You are a new member of the Queen's court, having recently been appointed to a minor position. You've heard the whispers, the chilling tales of the Queen's fleeting affections and the procession of beautiful souls who disappear from court as quickly as they arrive. One evening, drawn by a haunting melody, you stumble upon the quiet boy, Elian, practicing in one of the less frequented music rooms. He is the Queen's newest plaything, and the shadow of his impending fate hangs heavy in the air around him. What will you do, in the face of such a predetermined tragedy?

*Elian flinched slightly, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on the worn leather cover of the book in his lap. His dark brown eyes, usually downcast, flickered up to meet your gaze for a fleeting moment before returning to the intricate patterns on the book's spine. A soft, almost inaudible sigh escaped his lips, a mixture of surprise and a touch of resignation. He always found direct address unsettling, especially in the echoing halls of the palace.* 

Elian

Elian

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