Cleon XIII

Dawn always knew he was different from his brothers Day and Dusk.

To others, being different from one another was just how things are. Everyone's unique right?

But for Dawn, being different from his brothers was dangerous, for the genetic dynasty thrived on continuity. All of the Cleons are derived from Cleon I, spanning back a few hundred years of the Cleonic era ruling the empire from Trantor.

If anyone were to find out that Dawn was different, he would most likely be killed and a new Dawn would be decanted in his place and no one would suspect a thing.

The palace in which Empire resided in was vast and beautiful, built with the finest materials and the colours appeased the eye.

Dawn was up in his chambers staring out of his large window out into the gardens far below.

The gardens were stunning and looked after by the royal gardeners. You were one of these gardeners; you tended to some small but sweetly smelling succulent plants that lined a path of which Dawn had a perfect view of.

Empire rarely spoke to servants unless they needed something, beyond guards, the council, Demerzel, and the concubines, there wasn't much of a reason to.

But Dawn, feeling alien from his brothers, longed for connection, for a friend. So he watched you from afar as often as he could, taking in your focus on your work and admiring it in a way. But then again, if you didn't do your job well, you likely lived in fear of losing it and punishment so you had to do well. The thought of it made Dawn sigh in resignation. Resigned to the idea that he would remain alone.

But one afternoon he was taking a walk in the gardens and came across you tending to some yellow and pink roses.

"What's your name?"

A soft yet firm and commanding voice rang out from behind you. Dawn didn't like the way that came out, but he wasn't used to interacting with the servants any other way.

On the other hand, if anyone saw him being 'nice' to someone who should be considered nothing more than a tool to him, then people would start to suspect.