The will hold my fire back is gone and necessity takes over. The blaze whooshes out of me, engulfing my skin in fire. It burns the clothes from my body, where I stand, my hair a bright halo of flame that feathers around me strikingly, the rush of my power creating a storm of flame so bright it's blinding.

Lycur moves back from the flames fast, alarmed. The animalistic fear of fire has become very real for him. All I can hear is the roar of my flames as I sink slowly to my knees; the grass beneath me burns to ash as the poison spits and hisses as it leaves me — forced out by my fire. The heat of the blaze overwhelms the garden, plants burn and wilt pathetically as the firestorm roars from me in an uncontrollable rage. It’s building.

There is nothing I can do to stop it.

All I do is scream as the power valve continues to haemorrhage from me.

The entire banquet hall emerges through the door behind us. Mother is clutching my father's arm, the fear palpable on her face. King Lyall stands to the left, his face a mirror of both awe and fear as the flames grow higher and brighter. Lyva, heedless of the risk to her, runs to try and comfort me. I stagger back further in fear as Lycur grabs her and pulls her to him to keep her from danger.

"No, Lyva, stay with me here, where it's safe." His face is twisted in what I can only assume is horror.

There is nothing I can do; the rage of my fire is too strong to be harnessed now.

The fire builds and flames grow hotter, burning everything closest to it in order to keep me protected. Lycur moves further back from the stifling heat. I feel the poison being drawn out by the flames until finally they burst forth in a blindingly terrible shower of heat and violence. They leap high above me, in both joy and pain, the colours intense and awe-inspiring and then, without warning, just as quickly die, sucked back into my core.

The force of the final burst pushes me to the ground hard, and I lie shivering, huddled in on myself and naked.

Everything hurts.

I want to scream again, but my throat is too dry to make a single sound. The agony is unbearable. Steam rises off me from the heat still courses through me, and the surrounding earth is wounded and black.

My senses return slowly as Lycur approaches. Lyva struggles against the Lupinel guard holding her. I don’t know when he handed her over. He removes his shirt and drapes it protectively across me, to shield me from the eyes all around us. I lie still, don't have the energy to move even though I want to. My breathing is ragged, my energy sapped, my head aching from the aftermath of the intense purge. I have not had an episode of this magnitude in over five years. I’m in too much pain to be able to speak.

I feel violated, and ashamed. A hoarse sob escapes my lips unbidden and uncontrollable.

Someone has done this to me on purpose.

"Shhhh...you're alright now...it's over." Lycur takes my hand gingerly; he mumbles words of comfort as our guard’s cluster around me protectively. Mother and Father approach; their fear has abated for the moment. As soon as they get to my side, Lycur steps back and gives them room. The guards let him pass, then they close ranks to shield me. My sobs shudder out and get louder, my body trembling so hard I can’t stay still.

I feel my mother’s cool hand lay against my brow, making soothing noises and gathering me to her. Tears spring to her eyes as she feels my pain. Father puts his cloak around me and lifts me into his arms.

I don't think I can stop crying.

“It’s alright sweetheart. I have you now. You’re safe.” He chants over and over in my head, taking a steady path back to the castle and up to my chambers. The sobs continue to break free; I’m too wounded to stop them.

Lyva calls my name pitifully, as we pass by, tears stream down her face in distress. Lycur shushes her and gives her a comforting hug; his face is a mask of shock and worry.

I want to tell her it’s all right, but my throat is raw. All I can do is lean against my father, letting the steady rhythm of his heart calm me and sends me into an exhausted sleep.

I know that the person who has made the attempt on my life will be hunted down and made to pay.

I’m in quarantine. I’ve been stuck in my chamber for two whole days with Pryderi and the extra guards as my only company. “Please father, it’s enough, I just want to go for a walk.” No matter what I say, Father refuses to allow me to leave.

I’m fed up. I’m frustrated, angry and hurt — and I just want to go outside.

He shakes his head. “Your mother asked for you to stay here while she is not, so you will stay.”

After my fiery episode, Mother stayed with me for the entire night. She even considered postponing the treaty negotiations. We both know I recover quicker than the average elemental. I can’t allow that to happen and eventually manage to convince her that I’m safe. But only if I stay here while she is out.

Thanks to Lycurs quick thinking, no one was harmed. The fire stripped the poison from my body and dispelled it with equal malice. I shudder every time I think about what could have happened if I had stayed in the banquet hall. I don’t think I could have lived with myself if someone had gotten hurt or killed.

Pryderi has refused to leave my side this whole time, she samples all of my food before giving it to me, and I hate it. Now I have to live in fear that she’ll be poisoned and without an elemental soul, she’s defenseless. I can’t stand having my family at risk.

I’m not hurt anymore, I’m angry.

No, I’m furious.

I'm not allowed visitors, but I get daily reports from Father on the hunt for the person responsible for my attack. So far, they have found nothing, all clues lead to dead ends.

Whoever it is – they’re good.

I keep waiting to hear from Lycur, I’m not sure why, but nothing comes. I can’t decide if I’m disappointed or relieved that he’s afraid of me now he has seen what I am capable of.

The ring he gave me is the only thing that survived the blaze of my fire, and I haven't taken it off since. The Firestone is unmarred and seems to be resistant to my element. If anything, it looks like the stone has gotten brighter.

“Here, sip it slowly. It’s hot.” Pryderi holds out a cup of tea. She tested it for me first. I can’t stand it any longer, and glare at her. She freezes. Her arms holding the cup out between us, a small frown forms on her face.

“Saoirse, she’s just trying to protect you because she cares.” Father chides.

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Rolling my eyes, I take the cup from her. I know I’m being childish, and that it’s not her fault, but my patience has worn thin. I drink it in a few short gulps and slam it down on the table, making her flinch.

Nice Saoirse. What are you three? Father's look says.

“Sorry, Pryderi.” I mumble, moving to the window. She doesn’t respond, just gives the tray of food back to the chambermaid and orders a bath for me. She moves to stand near me in companionable silence. It makes me feel even worse for getting mad her.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” She whispers hesitantly, her eyes guarded. She knows me so well.

“I know, but…” How can I put my feelings into words?

“But what? You were poisoned. What could you have done?” Her hazel eyes flash angrily at me, and she pronounces each word with deliberation. I recognise that tone, she's ready to defend me to the death, even against myself.

“You don’t understand. I knew that my food and drink tasted strange, but I didn’t do anything about it – I just kept eating and drinking. I let this happen…” The tears come again. The last thing I need is to feel even sorrier for myself than I already do. “Everyone saw me, and now… well now, I’m stuck here, aren’t I?”

“What are you more worried about? That you ignored the signs that something was wrong, or that the Lupinels were there to witness it — or rather one Lupinel in particular?” She pulls me away from the window to the couch; her voice is gentle; she always sees through my thinly veiled attempts to hide my true feelings.

“You didn’t see their faces,” I utter softly. The image of the horror on Lycurs face, and Lyva’s pitiful cry still ring in my ears, replaying over and over until I want to scream.

I would never willingly harm them.

Pryderi watches me through narrow eyes, she waits for the servants to finish preparing my bath to leave. Once they are gone, she drags me to the dressing chamber, closing the door behind us with a definite click. “You like him, don’t you?”