I’m so angry right now that I can’t think straight. I’ve gone through hell for Atlas, and he speaks to me like I’m no more significant than a worm curling over the toe of his golden boot. I’ve spent my entire life protecting him, even when I wasn’t obligated to do so, and he’s never once shown an ounce of gratitude. I stalk through the palace as servants and courtiers leap out of my way. Gods, I need a drink and a good fuck. I need to punch something. Hard.
