A large huff of breath came accustomed along with the jolt of quickly picking up a large crate and transporting it elsewhere of the large pyramid. A beautiful strand of gold hair and a flash of sunrise blue eyes were all it took to make such a peasant the apple of even a merchant’s eyes. Straining muscles against his shirt and the sweat that callously dropped from his forehead, the heavy, determined look in his eyes showcased the man’s strong will, so now who wouldn’t want that? Nobody, and with the special case of Prince Heracles. Had the young blonde not come on that day, shining bright like a hero to flawlessly save Heracles from a pile of falling rock that fell from the construction of their great Parthenon (which the architectures were punished for), the young brunette wouldn’t be here to witness the ever-so bright smile that effortlessly found its way onto the very handsome man’s face. Unfortunately, their spectrums were far too apart, even for Heracles, as he couldn’t slander his good mother’s name if anybody had found out he had caught feelings for a peasant, and a man, no less.
“What’s the matter?” He heard his mother ask, quietly walking up to him with her ever-so kind smile, and extending a hand to pat his back with. Her grin had grown even larger as she saw the lovestruck expression on his face, giggling for a little bit before asking another question, “Oh? Has my son found a lover? Or does he still have his hands tied in a twist for not being able to sort it out?”
Heracles wasn’t the kind of man to make an embarrassing remark back to his mother, but the fact she had caught on so quickly caused him to duck his head into his chest, raising his knees to wrap his arms around them. No answer received, which was expected, as she raised a rather quiet boy. Another round of laughter escaped her lips while she sat down next to her son, legs neatly squished together in a royalty-like manner. “Do tell, who is it?”
“Will you hate me if I told you?” An insecure, yet rather deep voice, skittishly questioned, full of an anxiety ridden break that his mother had to shut a mouthful of laugher for. “Of course not, whether it be a woman or a cousin, a nobility or even a merchant, I will always support you.”
But not a peasant or a man? He was afraid to ask, considering how disgusting that seemed to be at the moment. He prayed to both Greek and Egyptian Gods, an uncommon trait for a Greek prince.
Personally, he never thought the idea of a cow god exactly that believable, but the utter detail his friend, Gupta, prince of Egypt, went into was extraordinary that he couldn’t help but to believe some parts. How else would he explain how the world had worked?
His thought train was soon interrupted by his mother’s soothing voice, “you’re quite quiet, is something the matter?”
Immediately, he had shaken his head in disagreement, but obtaining a motherly glare from his mother, “What have I told you about lying, mister!” she yelled, softly although, garnering much of his attention as she usually doesn’t yell often. “Is it something you’re afraid to tell me?”
A slow, but painfully sure nod was the only response he gave her, yet was garnered by a hug and a kiss to his cheek, “let me rephrase that. I will support you, no matter who they are.”
It was a soon clap back to return her hug, a sure-hard snuggle and a confession he let escape his lips from reassurance. “Him, the blonde one, blue eyes like Athena and shiny beauty like Aphrodite,” he explained, continuing with a few more compliments to the man’s existence, “loyalty like Poseidon and prowess like Zeus, a shiny smile that combats even Apollo and Artemis.”
His mother could only return with a large, hefty laugh, patting his back in support and leaning on his head, “I can tell you love that boy very much,” but a frown soon crossed her face, which very much worried Heracles, “but you know his status. He is a man, and a peasant, you cannot possibly wed him.”
“Please, Heracles, if it were up to me I would oh-so allow you to love that man as much as you can. However, you know the rest of the kingdom will not accept the intertwining of two men in love, more-so with a peasant.”
Her explanation made far too much sense. He hated that, why couldn’t people just love as one pleased? Aphrodite exists to spread love, to let you know that love comes in many shapes and forms, but nobody has yet to realize the diversity of what she means to represent. Heracles, clearly upset by her response, simply squeezed harder into their no way bittersweet hug. “I know, I know.”
Oh how he had wished,
That he was not royalty.