“Haha. I’m a polymath,” Cleopatra said, a sly glint dancing in her eyes. “I adapt, I evolve. Something I know is far too difficult for you, isn’t it?” 

A shiver ran down Guinevere’s spine. This wasn’t a casual jab; every word dripped with piercing truth, sharp enough to cut through the bravado she carefully wore. Her pulse quickened, and for a heartbeat, she faltered, retreating inward, scrambling to mask the cracks where she was weakest. Cleopatra’s gaze bore down on her, steady, unrelenting, merciless an invisible weight that made her chest tighten. 

“Hmmm.” Cleopatra’s lips curled into a faint, almost polite smile, but the fire in her eyes warned that...