Metal clangs as swords clash. Blood flies and eventually dries as men and women are laid to rest with a single stroke across the throat. But through all the war and bloodshed, time seems to still as their eyes meet.

They easily walk across the battlefield as if the fighting parts for them. They stand a hair’s breadth from each other, gazes locked.

“Stand down,” Queen Lydia says lowly, but loud enough for the other queen to hear over the war. “Stand down and I’ll consider forgiving you.”

“Please,” Queen Mira retorts, “we both know you made your decision. Your perception of me will not change whether or not I tell my men to lay their weapons down.”

“You’re right, it won’t. But I’m giving you an option.”

“Yes, just like you gave me an option last night.”

“You said you loved me,” Queen Lydia hisses.

“I did. I do.”

“Then why challenge my crown?”

Queen Mira steps impossibly closer. She leans in, her lips hovering over Lydia’s ear. “I am doing this for us.”

“Forcing innocents to die, when you could’ve easily told me before our…activities, last night?” Queen Lydia huffs. “You have a cruel way of showing your love.”

“No one would ever accept us. If I conquer your kingdom and take you as prisoner—“

“Enough. What you’re doing is wrong. My people would’ve accepted us if I told them to. I will not let you conquer my kingdom for what you believe to be love.”

Queen Mira’s eyes fill with rage as she watches pure steel emerges from Queen Lydia’s sheath. “So this is how it’ll go?” She questions, a coldness in her voice.

As a response, Queen Lydia let’s out a bloodcurdling scream and charges. Queen Mira draws her own sword just in time for her enemy’s attack.

“Let the battle begin.”