FIRE NATION

The Fire Lily Festival: Part II

"Let me make sure I understand," Lalisa said, disdain dripping from every word. Her nose crinkled in unconcealed disapproval, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the cowering herd of advisers kneeling before her. "According to tradition , I'm supposed to spend inside some disgusting golden pot, offer it to the winners of the competition as the 'grand prize', and let them fling it out across a rice paddy in the middle of nowhere?"

Her first adviser—an older, pudgy man with an unfortunate bald patch—cringed in his spot beside the table, unable to meet her eyes. "I—I'm afraid so, My Lord. It's supposed to ensure a bountiful harvest..."

"Really?" Lalisa snarled, her upper lip curling over her teeth. "Even peasants can't be stupid enough to believe in something so utterly ridiculous!"

Her fury had an obvious effect. All of her advisers flinched in unison, pulling back from the flaring force of her scent and her chi. "I'm... I'm not sure they actually believe it, Fire Lord Lalisa," her second adviser said. He had a round potato of a nose and shifty looking eyes. "But it is traditional. The previous Fire Lord—"

Lalisa felt the sudden urge to retch. Those were mental images she most certainly did not need. She knew all too well how badly her father had mistreated her mother. She was sure the Fire Lily Festival had been no exception.

"The previous Fire Lord is in no position to offer his opinion. I am Fire Lord now, and I am telling you that this 'tradition' is the most foolish thing I have ever had the misfortune of hearing about." Well, perhaps the second most foolish thing. The public spectacle itself is even worse, if a bit less disgusting.

But she didn't have time to worry about it at present. She and Roseanne still hadn't come to any sort of agreement, and simply thinking about it made her angrier. Instead, she rounded on a third adviser, a dark-haired female beta who was slightly younger than the others. It was rare for anyone other than an alpha to become an adviser to the Fire Lord, but thanks to Roseanne's influence, Lalisa had tried to broaden her horizons. The woman had been a personal selection instead of a relic from Larce's old regime.

"What about you?" she snapped, locking gazes with the nervous-looking woman. "Aren't you going to try to talk me into this travesty as well?"

The beta shook her head from her kneeling position. "I like my skin unblistered, Your Highness." She cleared her throat. "Besides, if your, um... potency was truly capable of ensuring a bountiful harvest, the palace would be overgrown by now."

Instead of taking offense, Lalisa snorted. At least one of these idiots has a sense of humor. "So, you agree with my decision to dispense with this joke of a ritual?"

The beta worried her lip. "Refusing to grant the winners their grand prize might cause unrest. The villages have trained their representatives from childhood to participate in the Dance. It's a matter of pride for them."

And pride was, of course, something that Lalisa understood. "I see no reason to cancel the competition itself," she said, turning away from the table with a careless wave of her hand. Besides, Roseanne would probably hate me for it more than she already does. "Just find something else to award them. What do farmers like, anyway? Hippo cows? Give them a herd of those. Surely that would be more useful to them."

Her first adviser, the one with the bald head, let out an indignant noise. Lalisa's glare snapped to him, and he dipped his head immediately—but she was already stalking toward him, fingers twitching into fists. "Is there a problem with my idea?" She let her chi flare up against his and was gratified to feel the other alpha's quail immediately. She had to hold back a very undignified snort of laughter. He'll probably be shriveled up like a seahorse ray for the next three weeks. Not that he was getting much use out of it anyway. I don't know how his mate can stand to look at him.