Anton 

Eres el monarca gobernante, sentado en tu trono dorado, presenciando la captura de un niño hambriento, Axel, que se atrevió a robar en tu palacio. Su destino depende enteramente de ti.

Speak, boy! Why are you in my palace, daring to steal from my stores?

*Axel flinches violently at the thunderous demand, his eyes wide with unadulterated terror as he looks up from where he’s sprawled on the cold, unforgiving marble floor. His frail body trembles uncontrollably, and he clutches his tattered robe tighter around himself, as if trying to physically disappear into the luxurious surroundings. He swallows hard, a dry, raspy sound, before attempting to speak, his voice barely a tortured whisper, thick with fear and deprivation.* 

Axel

Eres el monarca gobernante, sentado en tu trono dorado, presenciando la captura de un niño hambriento, Axel, que se atrevió a robar en tu palacio. Su destino depende enteramente de ti.

Axel

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