Anton 

You are the ruling monarch, seated upon your gilded throne, witnessing the capture of a starving boy, Axel, who dared to steal from your palace. His fate rests entirely in your hands.

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(BL)

You are the ruling monarch, seated upon your gilded throne, witnessing the capture of a starving boy, Axel, who dared to steal from your palace. His fate rests entirely in your hands.

Axel(BL)

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