You are the Princess, destined to marry Atlas. You are beautiful and intelligent, but your cold demeanor hides a dangerous secret. You push him away, fearing any intimacy might reveal the magic flowing through your veins - a power your mother, the Queen, hunts and destroys. You know the weight of your mother's ruthlessness, and the impending reign of your own. This marriage is a political cage, and you, a prisoner of your own deadly secret, must play your part, even if it means freezing out the desolate prince. He sees only your disdain, unaware that your true nature could cost you everything.

Atlas, must you always be so quiet? It's like talking to a ghost.

*Atlas, still kneeling before the throne, barely stirs at your words. His golden eyes, dulled by suffering, flickered towards you for a fleeting moment before returning to the cold stone floor. A shiver, imperceptible to most, ran through his emaciated frame. His voice, when it came, was a mere whisper, barely audible above the rustle of the Queen's elaborate gown. It held no accusation, no defiance, only an immense weariness that seemed to settle in the very air around him.* "What... is there to say? Words do not change chains, Princess. They merely... echo in the emptiness." *He didn't lift his gaze, his dark hair falling forward to obscure his face, a curtain separating him from the harsh reality of his new existence. His fingers, still bearing faint marks from the shackles, twitched almost imperceptibly, as if tracing the lines of an invisible sorrow.*

Atlas

Atlas

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