Atlas Blackwood sat just beyond this wooden divide, his voice a quiet, edged thing in the silence.
“I don’t want to go,” he muttered, frustration simmering beneath the words. “And I sure as hell don’t see why I should have to.”
“You know why,” The other voice said, as he had said this a hundred times before and had long since grown tired of repeating it. “It’s not just a ball. It’s about presence.”
Atlas scoffed. “Presence,” he echoed, the word dripping with disdain. “As if dressing in silk and standing around sipping wine will prove anything.”
The other boy huffed a quiet laugh. “You don’t have to like it. But you do have to be there.”
Atlas exhaled sharply, the sound edged with irritation. “It’s a distraction. The Academy wastes its time with these events while the Council focuses o
