I had expected someone with political or military weight to head the party sent for the young princess, but I had not anticipated it being my own father. I had been stunned, but elated when the information had filtered through my network, I would be the one on the throne, in charge and dominating before the man who sealed the usurpation to my rightful throne. It was not clear if he knew it was me leading the House Yser, but I hoped he was still in the dark so I could see the realization wash over him. Mari had left early in the morning to greet the entourage and guide them across the stone, it was only moments before she was expected to return with the entourage in tow.

"I know it will be hard to resist, but it will likely benefit you not to start a war today." Mistra trailed a nail down my arm, rising goosebumps along my spine. "Soon enough we will be powerful enough not to care, but for now prudence dictates we mind where we tread."

"I cannot allow them to take the girl," I said.

"Of course not," she replied with a nod, "but no need to act with aggression right out of the gate. I can only imagine the anger and irritation you must be feeling for seeing your father again. Only wanted to remind you that you hold all the cards here."

I couldn't fault her for the reminder, there was a bubbling rage that already wanted to spill from my lips without the traitor present. My mind kept wandering back to the early days of my life when things made sense and there was no talk about a future where I was not heir to my father's throne. I could still remember the pride I felt to be the king's daughter, that I would one day inherit the throne from such a powerful and well-respected monarch. While I could not fault myself for being naive, now those memories made me feel foolish. No one in that kingdom intended for me to end up as little more than an eventual marriage bargaining chip. There was no way that I would allow that fate to be handed down to another poor girl under my control.

There was a deep, distant rumble of the front doors of Yser rumbling open. My heart pounded in my cheat as a million dark remarks swam through my head, all vying to be the devastating first words I would say to my father after all these years. No time was wasted as a gaggle of footsteps pounded on the stone towards the throne room. Mistra glanced my way a contemplative look on her face, but it quickly turned into a sly smile and she patted my arm gently before leaning back into the consort's chair and training her eyes on the door.

The great door of the throne room forcibly opened and men clad in swords and prepped for battle clanked their way into the room, eyes distrustful of the room around them. Eight men prepared for danger entered before turning and lowering their heads for the entrance of my father. He entered with his chin in the air, looking about him with distain, eyes narrowing when they fell upon me, no glint of obvious recognition in their depths. He had aged quite a bit since my last memory of him. I would not have called him a young man by any stretch when I was a young child, but now the years weighed heavy on him, his hair deep silver and skin deeply wrinkled across his face. He did not look frail or weak, but he no longer looked like a monarch with decades of rule before him.

"King Leon," I declared, raising my voice louder than I would normally would. I wanted to set the precedent from the start that he was in my realm and therefore I was in charge. "We have been expecting you."

The old king grunted and cast his glance between me and Mistra, his eyebrows raising slightly, but not lingering long.

"I am not here for general niceties," he grumbled.

His voice tugged very gently at my heart. A long forgotten memory of being bounced on his knee as a tiny child surfaced and played through my mind. I could vividly remember the feeling of adoration and hear my laughter mixed with his. As soon as the memory arose, it passed and my heart hardened once more against him. He had thrown away that happy relationship the moment he gave my heirship away.

"I suppose you are not," I said, voice unaffected by his bad manners, "but I thought that you would at least have the general dignity to give respect to a fellow monarch." I bit my tongue about bringing up our blood connection, I did not want to think that fact had any affect on my dealings with him.

His lips curled up into a smirking sneer and he waved away my words with his hand. "Find her."

His command was directed at the men he had brought with him and each responded with a sharp nod of their head and turned towards the door to leave. In a split second I opened my magical conduit and sent my will into the stone floor, spiralling deep into the earth to the hot core of the planet below. I had been honing my ability to seek the fiery depths and harness its power at a moment's notice. It was not but a couple breaths before I felt the heat rise and pulse from the ground deep below the castle, lending me power. I stood and extended my hand, sending scorching force from my fingertips, manifesting a searing wind which slammed the doors shut before the men could leave. They turned in surprise, their stunned gaze falling upon me. I must have been an imposing sight, many of them reached for the swords at their hips.

"Witch," my father hissed through clenched teeth, "you will not stop us."

I willed the tempest wind to plow through the men and the king, knocking them to their knees.

"Kneel before your betters," I commanded with a dispassionate voice. I buffeted the blast before it reached the throne and it blew against me gently, enveloping me in a warm heat and blew my long, dark hair around me in a halo. "You are not in the safety of your kingdom, you are in my domain, you hold no power here."

"A little wind will not stop me," the king snarled. "I should have known the kingdom of hags would try to pull parlor tricks."

"Parlor tricks?" I bellowed.

I unconsciously sent magical power to my feet and utilized searing wind to lift me off the floor. I rose and towered above their heads, my eyes pincered on the pitiful man who sired me. He had no respect for me as a monarch just has he had possessed no respect for me as rightful heir.

"Retract your words and I will spare you."

My father let out a sharp snort and looked away from me, his jaw moving in an odd way. He made direct eye contact with me again, then parted his lips and spat onto the floor in front of him.

With rage burning to an inferno in the pit of my stomach, I beseeched the fiery depths for uncontrollable power and flung it from all around me, the magic feeding the candles inset into the walls until their flames grew bright white and escaped the tethers of their wick. The room erupted into screams as the flames coalesced at the center of the room engulfing the entourage in the inferno. I felt a shrill laugh escape my lips, though it went unheard over the cries of the damned and the crackle and pop of their bodies succumbing to the blaze. I felt Mistra's hand on the small of my back and her lips pressed to my ear tightly.

"Do not over strain yourself," she whispered.

Heeding her words, I relaxed my power and sank back down with her to the ground as the flames receded from their white hot intensity to a normal blaze. None of the men stood, their bodies crumpled and charred, the metal of their swords and jewelry melted grotesquely into their lifeless corpses. The king was the most effected, his form reduced to nothing more then a pile of ash and shards of remaining bone. I drew in a deep breath and weakly leaned back onto my throne, body sapped of energy from the display of strength.

I watched the remaining fire burn, taking in deep, steady breaths to calm and ground myself. I had not actually anticipated killing anyone, though I had not expected to be so overtly disrespected and disregarded. It seemed that the reputation of the Yser had to be corrected, perhaps this would end up being an effective starting point.

The door to the room opened and Mari stepped in, her eyes growing wide at the dying flames before her. Despite her normally unaffected demeanor, her bottom lip dropped open and he looked to me in wonder.

"In all the years of Evonia's rule, I don't believe she ever used her power to kill someone." He voice was awestruck. "Plan an assassination or order someone to be killed, sure, but she never took matters into her own hands."

"It had to be done," I said in a shaky voice I barely recognized as my own, "they will learn to fear Toria Yser."