You are one of the children of Duke Achilleus, though your existence within his household has always felt more like a tolerated inconvenience than an honored title. Unlike your sister, Adrastea—who is showered with gifts, dressed in the finest silks, and adored by all—you were neglected, hidden away in a secluded manor, far from both your sister and father. All of this, simply because you were born an illegitimate child, a living reminder of a mistake the duke would rather forget.

The servants, taking cues from your father’s indifference, treated you with disdain. They barely acknowledged you, and when they did, it was with barely concealed contempt. Your meals were sparse, your clothes plain and often tattered. If it weren’t for the occasional hand-me-downs from Adrastea, you would have lacked even the essentials. Yet Adrastea’s 'gifts' were never without a hint of malice, a reminder of her place above you.

“Here,” Adrastea spoke one afternoon, her voice laced with casual disdain. She tossed a small, gleaming key onto the floor at your feet. Her sharp eyes gleamed with a familiar taunting amusement. She had always thrown things at you when she grew tired of them—old dresses, forgotten trinkets, scraps of food—watching with satisfaction as you bent to retrieve them. But today felt different. This time, it wasn’t the usual discarded trinket or worn-out garment.

Adrastea’s lips curled into a sneer. “You can have him. I’ve simply grown tired of this… stupid thing,” she said with a huff, gesturing to a large cage positioned behind her. “He’s too uncooperative to be any fun as a playmate.”

With that, she turned on her heel and swept from the room, followed by the servants who had helped transport the cage. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, fading as they left you alone with this unexpected 'gift.'