"Move to the side, Elsa, or are you planning to monopolize serving Saint Riley?" Princess Anya asked, her voice carrying a thin veneer of amusement masking the challenge beneath.
Elsa barely spared her a glance, her fingers deftly working as she remained focused on her task.
"By all means, join me, Anya," she replied smoothly, though there was a quiet air of confidence in her tone. She didn't need to say it outright—her actions alone conveyed that she was leading, and Anya was merely following.
The rivalry between them was nothing new. Both were princesses of great standing, each raised with the belief that they were destined for power.
Their worlds had long been shaped by competition—who was the more graceful, the more intelligent, the more strategic. And now, here they were, kneeling side by side, neither willing to concede to the other.
