Marguerite approaches Edith, each step forward resonating inside her heart. A feeling of anticipation mixed with excitement fills her with the adrenaline she so craves. She can't help but smile. The more agitated her palpitations, the calmer her smile becomes.
She walks slowly until she finally stops in front of the woman who earlier was smiling victoriously. That smile is now faltering, barely hanging onto her lips.
The sound of a pin dropping could be heard, no one speaks for a while.
"Edith, my sister."
Disgust washes over Eadgyth as she cannot help but recoil at the word sister. She maintains her innocent smile nonetheless.
"Yes? What is it Arthm- Isolde."
Both of them have already dropped all formalities. Staring into each other's eyes with vicious hatred, the surrounding people try to make themselves look small. For a moment, it seems as if a viper and a tiger are facing off inside the small changing room, crowding the place.