”Yes, it’s still called that,” she quips, but then she can’t deny the amused grin that lifts itself across her lips. Indeed, she and Djinni have been the only ones here as of late, but even then it has mostly been Nayl. The passionate sisters that had been so eager to begin anew have since abandoned their hopes. Perhaps it would have been easier to call a mutiny, but there was seemingly no one here to support her claim; she was alone until now.
”I don’t mind the name,” she admits slowly, thoughtfully. Her eyes drop away to the cliff side and to the ocean below. She listens to the wind as it tousles her mane and the waves as they crash on the sandy shore. ”The name is nothing compared to what happens inside its walls.” The land could be called anything, and she wouldn’t care. It isn’t the word that you hear spoken on the lips, but the inhabitants, the Queen. That is what’s most highly regarded. The reputation lies in the hands of those living in the borders. As of now, they have no reputation due to their empty numbers and missing Queen. What reputation the sisterhood once had has now crumbled. The world doesn’t even know they exist anymore.
If she wins this challenge – oh, how she hopes to be the victor – then it could all change. It would all be in her hands, in her power. She would rule with an iron fist, but with justice. There would be life pumped back into this land where is has been lacking for nearly a year. Often, during her lonely nights, Nayl has contemplated all of this; it’s funny that he asks her now what she would do. A minor hesitation breaks his voice from hers, and she observes him carefully when she begins to reply in a thoughtful, but flat voice. ”I would have three guards; they would be the highest ranking stallions that I would trust most,” she begins as a sly grin creeps along her pretty face. Why is it that so many think she would oust the males? ”Stallions would likely be border patrol; I would ensure they’d have purpose and their own place. This is a new world, a place of change, and I understand that.” They assume that she is fastened to the old ways, that she would make slaves of all stallions. No, they have their uses. ”As for the women,” she trails off here, wondering if there are really any women left, ”I guess I’ll think of that when I see how many will come and stay under my reign.” Her muscles shoulders roll in a casual shrug.
”And you?” Her fiery eyes now delve deep into his, wanting the truth, ”Would you remain here should I become Queen?”
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