In the House of Flames

"YOU KILLED THE QUEEN."

The words were muttered darkly by an unfamiliar dark-haired man who walked past Nova in long strides, clearly anxious to retreat from the Queenling. The hot air seemed to still as his words registered in her ringing ears. She halted, and spun around dangerously slow. Before she could shout something back or summon her sparks, a hand wrapped itself around her wrist.

"Don't," warned Arabella, Nova's closest friend.

Nova, however, was not feeling particularly friendly towards the girl now. After a morning filled with shouting at chosen representatives of the Council without Arabella by her side, she felt cranky and irritable. They were now on a thirty minute recess, one that Nova knew would fly by. Somehow, the two girls found themselves wandering around the Market, their eyes skimming over the available merchandise.

"Let go, Arabella," Nova said in the most commanding voice she could muster.

The red-haired girl merely quirked up one of her faint eyebrows. Nova shrugged her hand free, and resumed her glaring.

Arabella sighed. "I get that you're mad at me, Nova, but I did the right thing! You know all the Council people are biased against you-"

"Because I'm a Flame," Nova interjected, not bothering to hid the harshness of her tone. "And they hate us."

"Yes, they do, but we made it that way to protect our people," Arabella said while pulling her along, forcing a reluctant Nova to walk again. "To protect our Queen."

Though Arabella seemed to firmly believe it, Nova knew that neither she nor her people needed any sort of protection. Even if their fire failed, they were each a gifted warrior, even the children. And Nova was the most powerful of all the Flames.

The young Queen scoffed. "If I were Queen, he wouldn't be able to say things like that," she pointed out, throwing a dark look over her shoulder.

"By making you look dangerous, I made the Council fear you," continued Arabella in a soft voice. "That is what will help you win the Queentide."

The Queentide.

Those words had followed her around like a ghost for her entire life. She trained for the Queentide every day, knowing that she would have to be the strongest Queen. If not, she would die, whether at the hands of her sisters or a Flame.

"What will help me win the Queentide," said Nova in a firm yet calm voice that felt fake, "is my power and training. I am stronger than my sisters, our spies have told me that much. Hopefully, it will be over quick so that I can get to the throne."

Arabella rolled her green eyes. "Nova, being a Queen isn't about sitting on a throne all the time."

Nova knew that, much more than her friend did. After years of studying war and battle and etiquette and manipulation techniques and poisons and weapons, she knew that the image of a Queen lounging on the throne, a crown resting precariously on her head, was thoroughly fake.

"Really?" she asked with fake surprise. Nova continued the charade by placing a hand over her heart. "I've been lied to!"

Arabella stopped suddenly, pulling Nova to a stop with her. The young Queen's smile faded as she took in the anxious look on the other girl's face.

"Listen to me!" Arabella said sternly. "Your sisters won't hesitate to kill you! You may be stronger, but they will use any means necessary to get the crown."

Nova forced down the wave of nausea that crept into her stomach. She gave her friend a confident smirk, and rolled her eyes. "I know that they'll try to kill me, Bella. I think that is why I've been training my entire life. Don't worry about me; I will win."

She wished that she could reassure herself as easily as she could say the empty words.

|||||

There was nothing that Nova hated more than the biased council. They looked upon her, as well as other Flames, with revulsion and a trace of fear. Nova always forced herself to march inside the iron doors with her head held high.

But today, she could not. Already, she had experienced hours of being shouted at by the frightened members of the council, and she did not wish to tolerate any more.

But an iron grip wrapped around Nova's arm right as she took a step backwards.

"Oh no," said Arabella, her nails digging into Nova's skin. "You're going in there."

Nova cursed, and attempted to squirm from the other girl's grip. Arabella merely smiled, and continued to drag her along.

"Bella! Let go of me! I am your Queen!" Nova exclaimed, but she was not able to keep the smile from her face.

"No, you're just a nuisance, actually," she smirked, clearly enjoying Nova's struggle. Nova rolled her eyes, but stopped fighting.

Finally, Arabella let her go. Nova rubbed her now sore arm, and glared at the red-head, who merely grinned.

"You know I'm going to have a hand shaped bruise because of you, right?"

"Maybe that'll teach you a lesson," Arabella replied smugly. "Now come on, don't give them another reason to yell at you."

Nova felt a great rush of affection for her as she accepted Arabella's outstretched hand, intwining her fingers into the other girl's. Together, they ascended the steps, and pushed open the iron doors. A warmness unrelated to the fire inside her spread through the young Queen.

But Nova could not ignore how quickly Arabella dropped her hand, and respectfully bowed her head as they passed over the threshold, visible to the council's eyes. Ignoring the blossoming hurt, Nova walked with her head held high.

"Queenling Nova," said Brock, the unofficial leader of the council. "You were very nearly late."

"Yes, seven minutes before the conclusion of a recess is 'very nearly late'," Nova retorted, careful to keep her voice calm. She took a seat at the head of the table and, though she was not looking at his face, Nova knew that it was lined with anger. "Now, where were we?"

"Already forgot what we were talking about, Queenling?" sneered Lydia, a representative from the House of Earth.

"I wonder," continued Nova in the same calm tone," if you call my sister, Cressida, Queenling, or if you show her respect, no matter how biased it is."

"Nova," warned Arabella.

Nova tightened her grip on the arms of her chair as she forced herself not to glare at Arabella.

Brock let out a sharp bark of laughter. "I don't think you tightened her leash nearly enough, Arabella."

"Nova is my Queen," she responded, her voice iron-like. "I do not control her. No one does."

Affection returned, refilling the cold, empty spot in her heart that was solely reserved for Arabella.

"The Queen of Wolves is no doubt prepared for the Queentide," sniffed Lydia, sounding indignant. She peered at Nova over her glasses. "The same can not be said for you."

Nova's chair slid back, screeching as it went. Even she was surprised that she had stood up. Flames crackled down her sleeves, sparks flying.

"I am one of the four Queens," growled Nova, enjoying the look of pure terror on the council's faces. "And I very well may be the reigning Queen, meaning that you will bow to me. Not today because you are all too proud and frightened. But one day, you will bow."

She willed a tall wall of fire to rage behind her. Nova gave a small smile as several council members scooted his or her chairs away from her and her fire. If she were not a Flame, Nova knew that the heat would be excruciating. But she, like other Flames, was able to resist even the highest temperatures; the hottest fires.

Then, it disappeared. Nova made the flames vanish, leaving no trace that they had ever been there. No dark scorches appeared on the floor nor walls. The only evidence was the frightened looks plastered on every face in the room. Except for Arabella's. Only a slight smile was displayed there.

"I am a Flame," Nova said slowly. "We could burn down the world, and everyone in it."

She exchanged a look with Arabella. Both of them knew the words well; it was the mantra of the House of Flame. They had repeated it thousands of times before, most of them together.

The fear remained crackling in the air like electricity, even as the meeting continued. But this time, no one dared to yell at the Queen. The sewn on sparks decorating her black sleeves was enough to remind them what she was capable of.

But throughout the meeting, Nova's mind was elsewhere. Lydia's words kept echoing through her mind: Queen of Wolves.

A nickname given to her sister though respect from her people. Nova knew that her sister's Companion was a wolf, but to become a Queen of them?

Nova fiddled with one of the red colored sparks on her sleeve as Brock droned on. She smiled, and imagined a crown of flames decorating her dark hair.