"None of them are my husband--None of them. I hope all of them fail." She huffed.

She had created a challenge, practically impossible, for suitors to defeat. Her husband had fallen sick, dying in her arms. She would make them string the bow of her late husband--a recurve that almost no one knew how to string, and they would shoot it through twelve axes.

If it went through cleanly, they would rule by her side. But she knew it was nearly impossible. Only her husband could have done it.

She turned, looking at you.

"If they do succeed, only then will I know I have the best of my husband. Only then will I accept defeat."

She never accepted defeat, it was what made her husband fall so deeply in love with her. Her courage, her persistence. It was what he wanted in a partner. He wanted someone who would match him in wits, and so she did. Now she just hoped she could find someone who could match her like he had.

She was a demigod, she never thought she would ever have to do this. She thought the two were practically--no, not even practically. She thought they both were invincible.

You were her twin, someone who had seen everything. Her best, her worst, and everything in between. And you knew she couldn't do this alone, but you also knew she would fight and hope that the soldiers were wrong. That he had not died in the war, that he would come home to her and save her from this tragic fate.

She would stay waiting.