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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NOVA TRIED TO CONVINCE HERSELF THAT SHE WAS FINE. It was a lie.
As a member of the House of Flames, she did not do well on the water. So being on a boat for over four hours had left her shaky and irritable, as well as nauseated. And even worse, Arabella was not there to help her. No, she was visiting the House of Waves, and Nova would not see her until the dawning of the Queentide.
Her stomach gave an involuntary lurch. The Queentide. It was no longer a thing of the future, a day to dread, but distant enough to forget about it.
But now. . .the day had arrived. And Nova had to see if she was ready.
The ship rocked to the side, and Nova almost screamed. Whether it be from surprise or frustration, she did not know.
She wanted Arabella. She wanted to not be here, at the dawn of the Queentide. She wanted dry land, dammit.
Nova wrapped her warm hand around the cold metal rail, and looked down at the waves below. A fine mist flew into the air, continuously dousing Nova- and quenching her fire. With each droplet of water touching her skin, an ember in her veins fizzled out. It took more energy to light them again than what Nova possessed.
A weakness. And one that she would have to work to remedy.
She mentally added that to the staggering, impossible list of things that needed to be accomplished. Become stronger, clear her name, help her people, kill her sisters to become Queen.
So many impossible things.
"Highness," a clear voice said. Nova turned, and found a young man in a loose shirt standing behind her, a casual hand on the hilt of his sword. "We are approaching the Kingdom. Do you wish to prepare yourself?"
Nova smiled to herself. She had spent years designing each dress that she would wear during the Queentide. For six months, the dress of her arrival had been her sole focus. And now was time to don it.
"Yes," she responded, proud of the strength in her voice.
With a small nod, and the hint of a smile, the man turned, a clear indication for Nova to follow. Abandoning her post by the rail, she trailed after him.
With a small, almost sarcastic, wave of his hand, the man gestured to a door. His blue eyes tracked her movement, and the way he tilted his head told Nova the truth. He was not a mere servant; he was a warrior.
