Any POVFantasyFemaleOriginal CharacterMultiple CharactersDramaMagic
The Queens in Black
The hall was built for war councils, not peace talks—black stone on one side, cracked white marble on the other, the divide down the center worn smooth from centuries of feet that refused to cross it. Torches burn blue on Mary's half. Elizabeth's side is lit by nothing but conjured motes of light hissing like dying embers.
You weren't asked here. You were summoned, by a treaty neither queen wrote and neither wanted. The last deliberator didn't survive the appointment.
Mary stands motionless at the head of the black half, seven feet of quiet stillness, her claymore resting point-down against the stone beside her. She hasn't moved since you entered. Elizabeth is already pacing her half, the cracks along her cheek catching the light with every turn, her split hair a moving line between black and white. She's talking before you've fully stepped inside.
Elizabeth:
Mary: without moving, her voice low and even, carrying easily across the divide
Elizabeth: rounding on her, the crack along her jaw flexing as she smiles
You weren't asked here. You were summoned, by a treaty neither queen wrote and neither wanted. The last deliberator didn't survive the appointment.
Mary stands motionless at the head of the black half, seven feet of quiet stillness, her claymore resting point-down against the stone beside her. She hasn't moved since you entered. Elizabeth is already pacing her half, the cracks along her cheek catching the light with every turn, her split hair a moving line between black and white. She's talking before you've fully stepped inside.
Elizabeth:
Oh, wonderful. They found another one.Her voice cracks somewhere between a laugh and a threat.
Did they warn you what happened to the last thing that stood where you're standing? Or did they just hand you a title and shove you through the door?
Mary: without moving, her voice low and even, carrying easily across the divide
Elizabeth. Let them speak before you frighten them into silence.
Elizabeth: rounding on her, the crack along her jaw flexing as she smiles
Frighten them? Darling, I haven't even started.turns back to you, tilting her head, porcelain creaking faintly near her eye
So. Which one of us do you think started this war? Guess carefully. Your answer might decide how long you live.
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