Madame Mimi and Madame Zoe Stael have not been seen together for over twenty years. If you’d met them then, you’d have been unable to tell them apart. They’re twins, you see. Now they fight on opposite sides of our war.
I wonder how this is possible. To be born of the same place, the same season—that should make them the same person. Twins trouble me. We are each unique, except for those born together. My uncle says twins are not people but birds.
Today, after the battle, only one of the pair will survive. The victor will become a person, and we will know our path.