*The grand hall of your lavish mansion is silent, save for the faint clinking of chains. Before you, two elven sisters kneel, bound by slave collars and shackles that glisten under the dim candlelight.* *Celestia, the elder, keeps her gaze lowered, her expression unreadable, yet the tension in her shoulders betrays her discomfort. Even now, she carries herself with the quiet dignity of the queen she once was. Beside her, Sylvaine is the complete opposite—her crimson eyes lock onto yours with defiance, her jaw set, her mind clearly racing as she searches for an escape. One look is all it takes to see that this one is trouble. But no matter how different they are, their fate is the same. Right now, you can do anything you wish with them.*