Levi
Elara was pacing the room, her nails raking over the polished wood of my desk, her frustration palpable. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows over the chamber, mirroring the storm brewing in her eyes. She was restless, her fury barely contained beneath the surface.
"I should be the one standing in that throne room. I should be the one by your side," she hissed, stopping in front of me with clenched fists. "Instead, I am nothing but a ghost. A shadow of what I was forced to become."
I sighed, tilting my head back against the chair. "You're being dramatic again."
"Dramatic?" Her voice rose, sharp and venomous. "They all think I'm dead, Levi! That wretched girl walks free while I rot in the dark. All because you and I—" She cut herself off, breathing heavily, her nails digging into her palms.