They said two people lived in the Queen’s skin. And those who brought petitions to the Elfking’s palace would not know which Queen sat in judgement of their lives until they heard her footfalls: would it be the irritable staccato of the ice maiden or the quiet pad of the healer? Could they look to justice being served up with the bite of an asp or the benison of a sunbeam?
It was unsettling never to know, but it did ensure that the palace ran like clockwork.
In the Elfking’s quarters the twins tossed a coin. Loser to play judge…
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