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Summary
It wasn't unique, just a portrait of two women. Yet, she feels so strongly while looking at it. Like her heart is being squeezed and her is stomach being twisted. The two women were hugging with anguish in their eyes. The black-haired one's left arm was slashed and bleeding. The auburn-haired woman was clinging to the other, clearly the more distressed one. Her nails were a mess. There is a knife dropped on the floor. They look so desperate. Tragic. There are also other people in the painting, watching the two women but they pale in comparison to the obvious subjects.
She was so engrossed that she didn't notice another person standing beside her. Also looking at the painting.
"The dance of two queens."
Narda glanced at the person who talked and immediately felt like the air has been knocked out of her lungs. The woman had a wavy auburn hair, Narda was so sure that if she touched it, it would be the softest and silkiest locks her palms would ever grace upon.