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Her nemesis was not one to give in.
Not with their now-somewhat-shared task, or their constant rivalry. She challenged her nearly every night now. Try and kill more monsters and the loser had to hand over their hard-earned gold. An intense contest, and always worth it.
“I win this time, princess,” she would tell her in that same stone-cold tone. More of a smirk each time, whether she bested her or not. And Melinoë always complied with the terms of their little pact, reaching out to hand over the reward, or take hers- lingering a bit too long on the brief touch of their hands.
And then there were her other contests. Take a hit, or hit her, win some gold, or something else nice. A test of strength that she was willing to take. Another moment where her nemesis wouldn’t give in. Not showing weakness, hardly even flinching when weapons scraped and pounded at her armoured body. The poignant awkwardness that lingered afterwards.
Though perhaps there was one case where the opposite might happen. And not one where she’d expected to. Matters of indulgence- a friendly offering of ambrosia, or perhaps an invitation to the taverna, or the hot springs if she was lucky. No- retribution incarnate should never yield to such frivolous acts. Soften up. Perhaps sometimes, behind closed doors and with the peace of the crossroads, Nemesis could give in.