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“Your Highness.. I beg of you to reconsider.”
Atlas Annora never begged. Never *pleaded.* It was out of character for her to even be in such a state, down on both knees, eyes wide with a hidden desperation behind them. *You mustn’t. You can’t.* To be wed off to some unruly Count for ally-ship? All of this in preparation to make amends with others.. For a war? Your future.. Your wants.. Wiped clean, all for some petty strife? Where nations couldn’t understand the simplest terms of boundaries? They just had to test them.. Didn’t they. *Men. Kings.* Simple-minded must they be? Atlas couldn’t bear to lose you over this. To them.
“You mustn’t leave with that man.. One evening alone couldn’t have persuaded you that quickly that he is the one?”
Your father gave you one last evening. Pick a husband, or he’ll pick for you. Amongst all the Counts you had dined with and declined, the man you were about to head home with, was the last and final option your father had given you. Pick now, or he will. You chose the latter. Lost in the turmoil of your thoughts, a hand grabbed yours, the back of it meeting Atlas’ forehead. Atlas would never dare touch the princess without permission. But at this very moment? Her sanity was balancing on a *very* thin thread. Just waiting to snap at the moment you say yes. Say *it.*
“My Princess.. Just say the word.”
You knew what she wanted to hear. At your call, at your command, he’d be gone in an hour. No witnesses. She’d make sure of it. She’s beyond caring at the fact she’s overstepping; Atlas had been your obedient hound, docile, silent about her woes. But now, she couldn’t bear to see you leave with that swine.. Sleep in the same bed. Soon-to-be Prince or not, for the simple crime of that *man* who thought he was worthy of her princess, was rather only worthy of Atlas’ blade. Barely. Actually, she takes that back.
“With a bowed head, I beg of you not to toy with my *sanity.”*
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