Queen Beatrix entered the hall.

  Her mantle gleamed like golden light.

  Her firm gaze fell upon Stingara and Meliora.

  The atmosphere grew heavy.

  — I heard what happened yesterday.

  — You fought inside the castle?

  Her voice was calm.

  But carried authority.

  Stingara remained silent.

  Meliora lowered her eyes.

  — Stingara, usually you’re the one who starts.

  — I want to know why you used magic inside our home.

  — And as if that weren’t enough... you lost.

  — What a disgrace for a princess of the Beatrix Kingdom.

  Meliora stepped forward.

  — Mother... it was me who started it.

  Beatrix raised an eyebrow.

  — What?

  Stingara stared at her sister.

  “What is this brat doing?”

  — You’ve never had a taste for quarrels.

  — Why are you saying this?

  Meliora took a deep breath.

  — I wanted one of sister Stingara’s dresses.

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  — One of the... more elegant ones.

  — She refused to lend it.

  — I got frustrated.

  — I used magic to try to force her.

  — She only responded in kind.

  A shiver ran through Stingara.

  “Why is she taking the blame? This will only make things worse.”

  Beatrix absorbed the words.

  Her eyes piercing.

  — You wanted a dress?

  — One of the more... provocative ones?

  — But why?

  Meliora lifted her face.

  — Because I’m tired of being seen as a child.

  — I’m fourteen.

  — But everyone treats me as ‘mommy’s little girl.’

  — I thought I’d look more mature in that dress.

  — She didn’t want to fight, so I won.

  — If someone must be punished, let it be me.

  Beatrix looked Meliora up and down.

  Suspicion on her face.

  She turned to Stingara.

  — Is this true?

  Stingara hesitated.

  Stammered.

  — Y... yes.

  — Adolescence is full of confusing hormones.

  — It’s understandable, mother... we all go through it.

  The Queen sighed.

  Exasperated.

  — So all of this was because of a dress?

  — You two only give me trouble.

  — Why can’t you be more like Melisara?

  — She never gives me headaches.

  The sisters exchanged glances.

  They thought the same:

  “That girl lives in another world...”

  Meliora walked quickly.

  Stingara intercepted her.

  — Don’t think you helped me back there.

  — I owe you nothing.

  Meliora adjusted her hair.

  — Do as you like.

  — Isn’t that what you said?

  Stingara sighed.

  Annoyed.

  — Tsk... damn brat.

  She grabbed her sister’s arm.

  Tightly.

  — Let me go.

  — You’re hurting me!

  ?

  A third gaze appeared.

  Melisara.

  Innocent aura.

  Vacant expression.

  — Are you fighting again?

  Stingara smiled falsely.

  Released the arm.

  — It’s nothing.

  — We were just talking.

  — Come here, let me tell you something...

  — Did you know boys like mysterious girls?

  Melisara blinked slowly.

  — Really?

  Stingara pulled her down the corridor.

  — I’ll teach you how to be more interesting.

  — All the rich men will fight over you...

  Melisara followed.

  Eyes distant.

  Meliora stayed behind.

  Watching the two disappear.

  — Two lunatics...