Ω KILL FOR WHAT YOU WANT, FOR WHAT YOU DESERVE Ω
Four sisters. One to be Queen.
A dark kingdom ruled by a dark queen for eternity lies close to a range of frozen mountain peaks. Outside that kingdom awaits four girls, all sisters. All wanting to be...
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THE COLD WIND HOWLED AS IT SWEPT BETWEEN TWO TWIN PEAKS THAT SEPARATED THE WILD FOREST FROM THE SLEEPING KINGDOM. It spiraled its way through the stone towers and brick buildings before finally caressing the side of the massive castle. Then, it swirled away, fading back into the depths of the frozen forest.
Anastasia shivered from the wind as she shut an open window. She latched it closed before hurrying back to where the Queen was lying in bed.
The Queen rasped, "if she's of the wind house, she'll need it opened," to Anastasia as she sat down.
"Yes, but if she's of flames, she'll need it warm," the midwife responded, gesturing to the crackling fireplace.
The Queen grimaced, and turned away from the fire. Anastasia could not help but agree with the Waves Queen; the House of Flames was filled with the most horrible of people, each one violent and cruel. They were the most destructive House of the four.
But, although she hated them, Anastasia was silently wishing for the new Queen to be a Flame. The last monarch that the kingdom had hailing from the House of Flames ruled over 100 years ago. Since then, nothing had flourished quite the same as it had under the rule of Queen Blaithe. And Anastasia knew that the kingdom needed a strong Queen desperately.
The Queen gasped in pain, and shut her watering eyes. But the young midwife knew the tears weren't from pain, but from the tendency of every Wave to shed water.
Anastasia turned her attention away from the Queen, and chopped up a small pile of herbs, and slid them into a golden goblet filled with water. Silently, she handed it to the Queen to drink. The older woman accepted it. Even in labor, she was poised and graceful in a way Anastasia could only hope to be. She made up for her lack of strength in her flawless mask of dignity.
The Queen's body shuddered violently, and the woman whimpered. The young midwife was on her feet in an instant. She knocked twice on the heavy door separating the Queen's chambers from the rest of the castle before dashing over the bedside.
Anastasia heard the door behind her creak open, and the familiar footsteps of Hazel, a much more experienced midwife than she was, walked towards the Queen. The younger girl kept her head down, and took the Queen's hand into her own. She rubbed her thumb in a circular motion on the soft backside of the hand.
The birth of Queens was much different than the birth of normal human. The Queen's entire body fought it off; it did not want to give up the power in which the newborn Queen carried. As a member of the Earth house, Anastasia was there to help the Queen with the pain.
Minutes passed. Anastasia did not dare look over her shoulder, towards Hazel. Though the Queen's whimpers of pains (the herbs had muffled the extremity of it) continued, the lack of a baby crying told her that the girl had not yet been born.
