Atlas (A Selection/Hat Films Fanfiction)

~ Twenty Nine ~

I swore again as I felt a sharp prick in my thumb.

I was in the Women's room, working on my needlepoint project we had been assigned for work outside of class this week. It felt incredibly mundane and silly when we had been studying economics for the past two weeks, and I didn't have the patience for it.

Though, I had better reasons to hate it. It was yet another task that made me feel inferior to all the other Elites. I wasn't an artist, and my hands were so arthritic that they ache only a few minutes after I start. I had broken my right hand twice and it never healed quite right, so all the delicate, fine work of the needle was painfully difficult to do. It meant I needed to practice more and work harder than the other girls, and my work was still messy.

I wanted to throw the work across the room out of frustration, but I set down the wooden frame onto the table gently to avoid making noise. I flexed my hands, feeling the unyielding scar tissue stretch the skin around it. I turned my head to look out the window, trying to calm myself down before I started crying.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the polite laughter coming from the sitting area in the middle of the room. The queen had joined us today, and the other Elites were all doing needlework in a circle as the queen talked about her Selection and told anecdotes of her daily life in the castle. No one seemed to mind that I was sitting away from the rest of the group, and I wasn't keen on torturing myself like that.

It wasn't like I was seeking any of their approval anyway.

"Oh, the boys were so rambunctious when they were little," the Queen mused, only needing to glance down at her needlework to continue her flawless rhythm, "it was quite the challenge to rear them, but they eventually recognized their responsibilities and calmed down."

She said it with such casual flippancy, but I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I listened. The Elites quietly giggled as the queen explained how she and the king had broken their sons' spirits. I wondered if she knew about Alex's punishments, but the hollowness of her personality made me think she wouldn't care.

"They're quite the gentlemen, your majesty," Fox gushed, sickly sweet. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

Still, I felt a pang of jealousy. These girls had grown up with mothers; they had been taught how to act like a woman, and now they were effortlessly interacting with their potential mother-in-law. Even if the queen didn't hate me, I didn't think I would be able to have any kind of meaningful relationship like they would. It was just one of the countless times I had been forced to question my femininity since I arrived here, and it intimidated me because of how complicated it was. There was no one to fight, no tangible thing to hate except myself.

I was chewing on my thumbnail and kicked myself when I felt the paint on it chip. I thought about how Luna would scold me again for the bad habit, and then remembered my maids were waiting for me in my room with unending, unconditional support. I didn't need to be here.

"Fuck this," I muttered in a whisper, unceremoniously bunching all the threads together in a fist and grabbing my unfinished piece with the other hand. I slunk around the walls of the room, but I still felt everyone's eyes on me, so I picked up my pace and kept my eyes glued on the exit.

I thought I was in the clear and heaved a sigh of relief when I escaped the room but froze when I didn't hear the door close behind me.

"Atlas," the queen called, forcing me to turn around, "Why don't you take a walk with me?"

I felt an icy fear settle in the pit of my stomach. "Thank you your majesty, I'm honored, but I-"

"It wasn't an invitation," she cut me off, her red lips pulling back in a grin that didn't reach her eyes.