Before I begin this next chapter, I want to thank all of you for getting me to #13 on the Hot 100 in Sci-Fi, 1.5K votes, and nearly 12K reads! Yay!

Okay, so there was only supposed to be one Saralee chapter, but the ending of chapter 39 was quite the cliffhanger and this little episode needs finishing up! It's a direct continuation of chapter 39, so if you need to reread that, feel free to do so.

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"Wh...what?" Selaeyah's jaw dropped as she stared at me in shock. Sophie too was looking from Sierra to her mother to me with horror, but her sister wore a nonchalant smirk that pleased me very much indeed. Good, I had always liked Sierra better anyway.

"You heard me right," I said icily, raising my arms and inflating my Aura. My expensive gossamer cape lifted slightly, billowing quite impressively in the breeze my swirling power made.

Blue walls rose around the shocked Valior twins and with a twist of my hand, I curved the Aural shields to form a dome that covered them.

"Bets, anyone?" Airel called out with a grin from his position at the back of the room.

"Bets, Prince Airel?" Selaeyah called out with fury. "My daughters are no lowly Kilaenaian warmatch contestants to be betted on!"

"Actually, Airel, that is a splendid idea!" I said with a flourish of my hand. I was actually quite fond of Kilaenas's elaborate warmatches, one might even call it a slight obsession. Most contestants were Rhenan slaves. Good, treating this like a warmatch would bring Selaeyah and her family even more ignominy and shame.

"Since we have Her Majesty's approval, I shall begin," Airel continued. "4000 duvats on Sophie. She has always been the better performer on training exams."

"Agreed, my Prince," Armetorius nodded from his seat beside me. "3500 duvats on Sophie."

"1000 duvats on Sophie!" called a lesser Iceheart from the back of the assembly. "2500 duvats on Sophie!" proclaimed another.

The air rang with the enthusiastic elites of Lessaenes calling out their bets. Every single one was on Sophie, based purely on her superior athletic ability and sharp decision making skills. Fools, every member of the sorry ruling class.

"10,000 duvats on Sierra!" I pronounced with authority, my words echoing off the frigid walls of Icicle Hall.

"You, my sister, are simply outrageous!" Airel yelled, his eyes widening with shock. "Will this be the first time our great Queen Saralee loses a bet?"

"Must I remind you that I am the Prototype? The very first Iceheart to Turn. I am the essence of perfection itself! I am never wrong!"

"Or so we thought," Airel wiggled his eyebrows tauntingly in a way that made me want to slap him across the cheek like we were children again.

"Oh, Airel," I rolled my eyes. "Unlike the rest of you idiots, I analyzed more than just their skills. Just watch."

I crossed my legs, my glittering high heels pinging against the immaculate floor. Being an experienced intimidator, I knew that the more comfortable I appeared, the more terrified Selaeyah and the twins would be.

"Begin!" I called, and the assembled Icehearts roared in approval as Sierra summoned her Aura from behind her, drawing it out into a whiplike shape and lunging at Sophie.

"No! Sierra!" Sophie whisper-yelled, thinking I couldn't hear. However, she had forgotten that as the Prototype, my senses were even sharper than the average Iceheart's.

"We're sisters! We shouldn't be doing this! Don't listen to her!"

"Sorry," Sierra grinned. "But I really want to be the next Chief Valior."

She crossed her fingers and deadly spikes grew out of her Aural whip. Swinging it around her head, she brought it down on Sophie, who rolled out of her way in the nick of time.

"Sierra, no!" She pleaded, but her sister continued her attacks relentlessly, morphing her Aura into various weapons and slashing it through the air. Sophie's agility saved her countless times as she ducked, rolled, and put up Aural shields. No matter how close to death she came, she refused to bear arms against her sister. Fool.

"Get up, Sophie! You're better than her!" Airel fumed, but the older twin didn't listen. Instead, his comment only enraged Sierra, who stopped her swift attacks and began to concentrate her power into a rotating funnel with a sharp tip. I nodded with approval, she was using the Icicle, my favorite move and coincidentally the one I had used to kill my older sister and become Queen. Oh, the irony.

Sophie's eyes widened at the sight of the gigantic glowing icicle and she backed up against my pulsating Aural wall fearfully. Sierra smiled, licked her lips, and sent the spinning mass forward. Sophie spun to the side, narrowly missing the point which went crashing into the wall, nearly shattering it. I could feel the younger twin's determination when our Auras made contact and it pleased me. She was like me, fiercely set on greatness. She wouldn't let trivial things like familial bonds get in her way.

Sierra pursed her lips in dissatisfaction as she lurched forward, propelled by her Aura. Quickly, she regained control and lunged forward once again. This time, there was no feint involved, she went straight for her sister's stomach. Sophie, expecting a trick, glanced forward in anticipation. This second was enough for Sierra to drive the icicle into her heart.

"Sophie!" Selaeyah screamed as her older daughter's blood splattered against my Aural walls. Slowly, I let the dome recede and the triumphant Sierra strode across the floor, climbing the steps up to the magnificent Regalion.

"No! She can't be-" Chief Valior choked, reaching out but quickly pulling her hand back at my menacing glare.

"Well done, Sierra!" I beamed. "You will be a great Iceheart and Chief. Remind me, when do you Turn again?"

"In four months, twenty three days, and seven hours," she grinned.

"You're even counting the hours," I laughed.

"Am I too eager?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not," I smiled. "There's no such thing as being too eager to become an Iceheart. Do you want to know a little secret? I did that too!"

"Really?" She giggled. "I'm tired of waiting! When I'm Chief, I'm going to lower the Turning age to twelve."

"Sorry, but I'd veto that," I sighed. "As much as I'd love younger Icehearts, Turning is an extremely painful process which twelve year olds probably wouldn't be able to handle. It also takes a certain level of maturity and control to handle the sudden surge of Aural power that comes with being a new Iceheart."

"Oh," she looked down sadly. "But at least I only have to wait until next Myrken* ."

"Yes, you are very lucky," I nodded. "I was crowned Queen in Deucwyn, and didn't Turn until Netwyn of the next year! Imagine almost a whole year of having to show my hideous, non-Iceheart face in court!"

"That must've been terrible!" Sierra gasped.

I genuinely liked Sierra Valior, which was rare for a person like me. It was nice to talk to a girl who wasn't scared to death of me. However, just as we were beginning to talk about the process of Turning, and what it meant to be the Prototype, we were interrupted by a frantic female Ice Guard who burst through the doors of Icicle Hall with tears in her uniform and her helmet askew.

"Your Majesty! It's Chief Myers!" She yelled in panic, her eyes filled with fear.

"What's his excuse?" I asked, bored. "And what on Lessaenes happened to you?"

"His body was found in a tree in the Arabella Province of Rhena, Majesty," she said solemnly.

"What!?" I stood up with a jolt, my eyes widening with shock. "Chief Myers...my Warrior Chief...the second most powerful person in the Lessaenite Empire...dead in a tree!?"

The Ice Guard nodded. "I was patrolling the area with my unit and we found him with ten or so Ice Guards dead around him. They put up an impressive fight, though, there were at least a hundred bloody Rhenan corpses scattered around the tree. They all wielded crude homemade weapons and wore armbands embroidered with a single, dancing white flame."

"The White Hot Flame..." I whispered, my eyes flashing blue with rage. Suddenly, a thought struck me and my lips twisted into a smile. "They made a fatal mistake by sending such a large force after the Chief: they've revealed their location. Armetorius," I addressed the Chief to my left. "Until Amanda is crowned Warrior Chief, you are in command of my Imperial Army. I want a force of ten thousand Ice Guards on Rhena at once."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Armetorius smiled thinly.

"The Flames are rising, Mother," Tara, who had been sitting quietly in the corner until then, said with a chuckle. "And soon you will all burn!"

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* The Lessaenite calendar has nine months with 64 days each, though the last one has 63. The months are Siesan, Catwyn, Bolwyn, Lemwyn, Araken, Myrken, Seolken, Netwyn, and Deucwyn in that order.