ＷＨＯ: @cscension
these were far from the sort of events atlas found amusing, the company was too often dull. content enough within themselves to let their disdain be painted clearly on their faces, yet too cowardly to raise their swords and take back what once belonged to them. the prince stood at the end of the extravagant hall, peering out a stained glass window. perhaps he should have been more careful, allowing his back to be exposed to such a vast number of enemies; no matter how many times they swore fealty. but somewhere not far off, possibly unseen entirely was his personal guard. maybe even sephtis. atlas allowed himself to remain vulnerable, almost as if to taunt the masses, to say come and strike down the high king’s son. it was then he felt it, a presence nearby that was all too familiar yet somehow so foreign. ❝ it’s proper to bow before gawking at a prince, ❞ he informed the passerby without bothering to turn his head.