two faces of the same card ~ two sides of the same coin
"She's so...unaffected," Nia snarls helplessly, fingers buried in Dromarch's fur as the same exact blatant tell towards discomfort and nervousness as they always have been.
"She's so...ruthless," Melia says to Tyrea, pleading in her tone as her sister observes her with a studied attempt away from exasperation.
"You don't wish to be like her?
"?You don't think that's the only way to win
"I don't care about that. I just want to know what she looks like."
The spirals of Melia's curls hang lower than they once did, but they still remain bafflingly aloft. Nia's hair is an unknowable, enigmatic length, stuffed somehow not unceremoniously in her hood.
"You know that would never be allowed."
"No? Who's to stop me? I am the leader, the ruler of this nation, am I not?"
Of course they'll never know, never quite hope to know, for they are so uncertain, if the other they speak so definitely of thinks, ever will think, the same. If she thinks of herself in such absolute, unyielded terms.
"So now that you have power..."
The queens stand, one sturdier yet more uneasy, one daintier yet more unsteady. Their aides stand aside, heads bowed. No, things are not how they used to be.
"I have to know what's on the other side. I've always had to know that."