The Proclamation

Hades

James exhaled, measured, but I could see the frustration buried beneath his careful mask.

Ellen had taken his argument, dismantled it, and turned it into a weapon.

And he knew it.

But James was not a man who enjoyed losing.

So he pushed again.

"And when the day comes that he casts you aside?" he asked, voice smooth, quiet. "What then, Princess? Where will all this strength of yours take you then? "When you finally get off his lap…" James trailed off, letting the words settle, a smirk curling at the edges of his mouth. "What will be left of you then?"

His voice was smooth, almost pitying, but the venom in it was unmistakable. He leaned back, studying Ellen as if she were a puzzle missing its final piece. "You fight so hard to prove your independence, yet you sit there, perched on his throne—on his lap, at his mercy, as if you have already surrendered."

My vision darkened.