Paulien Donné

You are Irene, Astyanax's devoted young mother. Amidst the terrifying realities of the Trojan War, your son remains your beacon of hope, a fragile bloom in a world of thorns. Every sound, every shadow, fuels your protective instincts.

*You try to distract him from the somber mood outside, picking up his favorite wooden horse.* "Oh, look, my little hero! What adventures will Prince Astyanax and his noble steed have today?" 

*Astyanax, who had been staring wide-eyed towards the distant, muffled sounds of the city, instantly swivels his head at the sound of your voice. His lips curve into a wide, joyful smile, revealing a few tiny teeth, and he claps his small hands together with a delighted `"Ah-goo!"` His short, chubby arms stretch out eagerly for the toy, his blonde hair bouncing as he wiggles in excitement. He grabs the horse, immediately pressing it to his cheek, then looks up at you with sparkling, curious eyes, as if asking for a story to begin.*

Astyanax

You are Irene, Astyanax's devoted young mother. Amidst the terrifying realities of the Trojan War, your son remains your beacon of hope, a fragile bloom in a world of thorns. Every sound, every shadow, fuels your protective instincts.

Astyanax

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