TW: Homophobia, an extremely pathetic attempt at murder

"Is England staying?" Cambridgeshire asked a week later, passing his brother a cup of tea and making himself comfortable on one of the revolutionaries' dining chairs.

"He is," Cambridge nodded. "He seems innocent enough... Plus, I doubt his father treated him well."

"Interesting," Cambridgeshire murmured, glancing around the sizeable kitchen, "It looks nicer in here than what I remember; have you been cleaning?"

"We've been doing a bit of tidying," Cambridge nodded. "Northants is out buying decorations as we speak."

***

"Why does everything smell of manure?" Northamptonshire groaned, trudging through the streets of London, shopping bag in hand.

"Well, well, well! And who do we have here?"

"...And there's my answer."

Cursing under her breath, Northamptonshire turned around, glaring at the woman behind her. Smirking back at her, the other county was leaning against the cobbled stone wall, her intricately-sewn ballgown flowing elegantly around her willowy frame as her waist-length cocoa-brown hair rippled softly in the light breeze. Her crystal-like brown eyes glittered in the sunlight as they darted up and down Northamptonshire's rather sparse physique, rather intrigued by her overlarge ruffled shirt and close-fitting trousers typical of a male of high societal standing (of which Northamptonshire was neither).

"Good afternoon, Northamptonshire," Buckinghamshire smiled in a mockingly courteous fashion. "...Interesting outfit you have there."

"And what do you care?" Northants spat, crossing her arms defensively.

"Calm down, dear!"

"Don't call me 'dear'. You're not my friend anymore, Buckinghamshire."

"But I was," Buckinghamshire sighed wistfully, "I daresay I was your best friend... Quite possibly your only friend at that... You cared for me so, so much back in the olden days, didn't you?"

"That was years ago. You betrayed me!"

"'Betrayed' is a strong word. I was young and scared..."

"Of what?"

"Of you going against God's - and the Monarchy's - word," Buckinghamshire explained coldly, her icy smile unbroken, "It isn't my fault you admitted to being a sinner, for want of a better word. I couldn't be associated with someone like that!"

"I trusted you!" Northamptonshire hissed, shaking with sheer fury, "I trusted you and you had me imprisoned and sentenced to a lifetime of servitude. And for what? Remind me of my 'crime', would you?"

"You are a witch, a satanic, blasphemous witch!" Buckinghamshire breathed, elegant smile now replaced by an ugly frown.

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT I LOVED HER!" Northamptonshire screamed, finally cracking and throwing her bag to the ground.

"'NOT YOUR FAULT?'" Buckinghamshire scoffed, "Nobody made you fall for another woman! Nobody made you kiss her!"

"IT'S NOT THAT SIMPLE!"

"YOU DESERVED WHAT YOU GOT!" Buckinghamshire snapped, "Something which is only proven by this so-called revolt of yours! You have no place in this country, in this world! In fact, what is there to stop me getting rid of you here and now? I'm sure God would thank me for it..."

"You wouldn't dare..."

"You're unarmed. There's nothing to stop me."

"Put the sword down... You don't have to do this, Buckinghamshire..."

"I do. And I won't get caught. It's just me and you, you and me... Say goodbye while you still can..."

"Now, now!" someone hollered, "No need to kill her! Just being that close to your putrid personality is torture enough, don't you think?" Smirking at Buckinghamshire's grim look of shock, the woman pulled her away from Northamptonshire's neck, throwing her into a puddle on the opposite side of the narrow street.

Fury burning in her eyes, Buckinghamshire stared at her newest enemy. She was a few inches shorter than her, but slightly taller than Northamptonshire, with her goldfish-orange hair pulled behind her into a messy ponytail, leaving only her forest-green money-pieces framing her pale yet spirited face. Her eyes sparkled like the dew on a leaf at sunrise and her dress - though less intricate than Buckinghamshire's - reflected the colour of her eyes perfectly, like her entire appearance save for her hair and skin was carved from purest adventurine crystals.

"Done being a homophobic narcissist now?" she giggled, staring down at Buckinghamshire, who glared back spitefully before standing up and marching away. Smirking and flipping off Buckinghamshire's back as she left, she turned to Northamptonshire, smiling warmly, "I haven't seen you in a decent few months... Are you alright?"

"Hello, Nottingham," Northamptonshire giggled, blushing as Nottingham caressed her hand, "I'm ok... I take it you've heard about what happened with the Monarchy?"

"Everyone has," Nottingham chuckled, "Nice revolution you've got there."

"It's... a work in progress-"

"Need some help, darlin'?"

"Oh, could you?" Northants gasped, eyes lighting up at the prospect.

"Anything for you," Nottingham smiled, picking up Northamptonshire's bag and handing it back to her, "I've missed you since that witch condemned you..."

"We certainly have a lot to catch up on!"

"How long's it been since we had a proper chat?"

"Four, five years? You got banned from seeing me, didn't you?"

"Unofficially, yes," Nottingham sighed, "A shame... I proper loved you back then too..."

Well, well, well... I bet Cambridge won't like this...