The council chamber slowly emptied after hours of debate, the weight of the discussions lingering in the air. Atlas remained at the head of the table, his hands clasped tightly as if anchoring himself to the present. Leon lingered as well, his gaze fixed on Atlas's tense form.
When the last council member departed, Leon approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing in the silence.
"You barely spoke today," Leon said softly, breaking the stillness.
Atlas didn't look up. "I said what needed to be said."
Leon's brows furrowed at the detached response. "Did you? Because from where I was sitting, it looked like you were holding back."
Atlas finally lifted his gaze, meeting Leon's eyes with a look so guarded it made Leon's chest ache. "This isn't a time for personal feelings, Leon. We're on the brink of a war."
Leon crossed his arms, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what about you? Are you just going to shoulder everything alone? Do you even hear yourself?"
Atlas's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond immediately. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words.
"I'm doing what I have to," Atlas said finally, his voice low and strained. "For the kingdom. For you."
Leon stepped closer, his voice softening. "Atlas, you don't have to shut me out. Whatever this is—whatever's happening to you—we can face it together."
Atlas closed his eyes briefly, his composure wavering. For a moment, it seemed as though he might let the walls around him crumble, but then he turned away, his back to Leon.
"You don't understand," Atlas murmured. "I can't let you see me like this."
Leon reached out, his fingers brushing Atlas's arm. "Then help me understand. Because all I see is someone I love hurting—and I can't just stand by and watch."
Atlas stiffened at the touch, the raw emotion in Leon's words cutting through the haze of his thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to pull Leon close, to let him chase away the shadows that plagued his mind. But the whisper in his head—the voice that gnawed at his confidence—reminded him of his vulnerability, of the danger he posed to the one person he couldn't bear to lose.
Before he could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted them. Cecily appeared at the doorway, her expression grim.
"Both of you need to come now," she said, urgency lacing her tone. "There's been an attack near the border. It's the Fleur Empire."
---
At the Border
The aftermath of the attack was devastating. Smoke rose from the charred remains of a village that once thrived on the edge of the kingdom. Soldiers moved methodically through the wreckage, searching for survivors and assessing the damage.
Leon dismounted his horse alongside Atlas and Cecily, his heart sinking at the sight before him. The stench of ash and despair hung heavy in the air.
"What were they after?" Cecily asked a nearby soldier.
The soldier bowed. "There was no clear objective, Your Highness. They destroyed homes, scattered our forces, and retreated before reinforcements could arrive."
"Testing our defenses," Atlas muttered, his voice grim. "They wanted to see how quickly we could respond."
Leon's fists clenched as he scanned the wreckage. His eyes fell on a small, burned-out home, and he approached it cautiously. Among the debris, he spotted a child's toy, blackened by the fire but still intact.
He picked it up, the weight of the small object pressing heavily on his chest. "They didn't just test our defenses," he said quietly. "They wanted to send a message."
Atlas joined him, his gaze softening as he noticed the toy in Leon's hands. "A reminder of what they're capable of."
Leon turned to him, his eyes blazing with determination. "Then we need to remind them of who we are. They can't keep doing this—they can't keep tearing people's lives apart."
Atlas studied him for a moment, a flicker of pride breaking through his stoic expression. "You're right. But we can't act rashly. This is what they want—to provoke us."
"And what do you want?" Leon asked, his voice sharper than he intended. "To sit back and wait for them to strike again?"
Atlas's gaze hardened, though his voice remained calm. "I want to protect you. All of you. And that means thinking ahead, not letting them dictate our moves."
Leon stepped closer, his frustration giving way to something deeper. "Then let me help. Stop pushing me away, Atlas."
The tension between them crackled in the air, but before Atlas could respond, Cecily called out from a distance.
"Over here! We've found something."
The two of them hurried to where Cecily stood with a group of soldiers. She pointed to a symbol etched into a partially burned wall—a mark unmistakably tied to the Fleur Empire.
"It's a warning," Cecily said grimly. "They're making it clear that this is only the beginning."
Atlas's expression darkened as he studied the mark. "Then we need to make it just as clear that we're ready for them."
---
That Night
Back at the palace, Leon sat alone in his chambers, the events of the day replaying in his mind. He couldn't shake the image of the ruined village, the toy in his hands, the pain in Atlas's eyes.
His gaze drifted to the small pendant around his neck—a gift from Atlas during one of their happier moments. He held it tightly, as if drawing strength from the memory.
A knock at the door startled him, and he turned to see Atlas standing there, his expression softer than it had been in days.
"May I come in?" Atlas asked quietly.
Leon nodded, and Atlas stepped inside, closing the door behind him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Atlas crossed the room and knelt in front of Leon, his head bowed.
"I'm sorry," Atlas said, his voice barely above a whisper. "For shutting you out. For making you feel like you're not enough."
Leon's breath hitched, his heart aching at the vulnerability in Atlas's words. He reached out, cupping Atlas's face and lifting it so their eyes met.
"You don't have to do this alone," Leon said softly. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together. Just... let me in."
Atlas closed his eyes, leaning into Leon's touch. "I'm trying," he murmured. "But there are things I can't control. Things I can't protect you from."
"Then let me protect you," Leon whispered, his voice steady despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "We're stronger together, Atlas. Don't forget that."
For the first time in days, Atlas allowed himself to believe it. And in that quiet moment, with Leon's hand in his, the darkness in his mind seemed a little less suffocating.