Elian sat heavily in one of the ornate chairs, his eyes locked on the untouched tray of food before him. The luxury that surrounded him felt cold, suffocating.
Nothing about this grand palace felt welcoming. He wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't supposed to be anyone important. And yet, the emperor's reaction earlier, the hushed respect from the servants, the fine clothes now hanging on his body, none of it made sense.
Was he being toyed with? Or was there something more going on, something hidden beneath the surface? He felt like a pawn in a game he couldn't yet understand, and the uncertainty gnawed at him.
As he sank deeper into confusion, the door creaked open behind him. Footsteps echoed softly across the polished floor.
"Elian."
The voice was soft, hesitant, and far too familiar.
