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“No,” she said as the last of the bonds lifted. “I’m worse.”

Maude’s fire exploded out of her in a blast radius that could have detonated the town square. Her father was blasted back with the force of her fire. He slammed into the wall by the door as Maude turned, her entire body wreathed in her golden flames that billowed out from her chest in fiery waves.

The war room began to crumble under her power, the foundation falling apart as she raged. The table map of Ahland ignited, the cities and borders burning away as if she had ripped up the Treaty and watched its rigid rules disintegrate at her fingertips.

The chairs went up next, the burning velvet causing black smoke to billow out the large windows, signaling anyone who would help their treacherous King.

Ten years of repressed anger flooded through Maude as she looked at her father, his rage beginning to kindle the fire in his eyes.

Helvig sprinted for the door as the floor began to give away under the pressure of Maude’s fire. She followed him, sheathing her short sword as she ran after the monster who molded her. The walls of the long hallwaythat led to the war room shook as they were destroyed beyond repair. Maude dimmed her fire as she approached her father.

“You always did have a nasty temper,” her father chuckled as he removed the battle axe from his back. “Your anger will not win you this fight,dóttir.”

Maude bit back her rage once more, attempting to keep Herrick’s words in the front of her mind.

You are not a monster. You don’t have to sink to his level.

“I am not going to fight you,” she said, trying to let Herrick’s calm flow through her instead of her anger. “We can solve this peacefully.”

“Peace? You were not raised for peace.” He spat the last word out like poison. “You were raised to be ruthless, a warrior, a force of nature.”

A force of nature.That was not the first time someone had referred to her as such. Herrick had said together, they could be a force of nature. The Grand Soothsayer had said she would be a force of nature if Bryn were to be believed. Maude felt the weaving of the Norns felt present again as the words made their way into the ether.

“My daughter does not know peace,” he continued as her introspection continued. “My daughter slices first and demands later. My daughter is strong and powerful, not this whimperingfoolwho hopes for peace.”

Maude flinched at his words, her fire dimming further in the verbal assault of her character. With every word that landed on her psyche, Maude felt herself grow smaller, felt herself withdraw into the girl she was when she lived under his thumb. Maude shrunk until she was sure she could hide under her boot.

“My daughter would not waste her time on aboywho has shown that he would rule with peace over strength.” The king scoffed. “Come to your senses, girl. He will lead to your death, and for that, he must die.”

Maude halted in her self-deprecating spiral.

“You do not touch him.” Her voice came out harsh and guttural with the strength of her newly stoked wrath. “If you touch him, I willobliterateyou.”

She looked up at the last word, her eyes meeting her hateful father's as she promised death to him.

For the first time in her life, her father was unsure of himself. Whatever he saw in Maude’s eyes made him pause.

It was all the time she needed.

Maude charged forward, the edge of her sword glinting in the dim firelight of the torches lining the long hall. At the last second, her father lifted his battle axe and blocked her swing. It was too late, however, because her fist shot out and slammed into his side, forcing him to his knee. The king swiped out a leg in a move so reminiscent of what she had done when she ran from her father ten years ago, causing Maude to hit the ground.

Her hip slammed into the stone floor, sending waves of agony through her side as she struggled to get to her feet. Her father swung his axe, the large blade promising death as it aimed for her belly. Maude twisted away, throwing her arm out with the axe to try and catch her father’s flesh.

A second before his scream sounded, Maude was rewarded with the feel of her blade slicing down her father’s face. From his right temple down to the corner of his mouth, a new jagged cut, courtesy of her blade, poured crimson blood onto the stone floor. Maude gave him a savage, satisfactory smile as she eyed the latest token from her anger.

“Looks like we really are mirrors,Papa,” Maude shot at him, winking.

Fury flooded the hall as her father exploded, orange flames billowing out from his chest. Maude only laughed as his fire skated around her air shield that she erected seconds before his explosion.

He moved forward, his honey-colored hair disheveled and his face twisted with blood and outrage as he attacked Maude. Their blades clashedtogether, hit after hit, and neither person landed another blow on the other.

Locked in a battle for the freedom of Ahland, Maude and her father relentlessly clashed again and again. No one could interfere, and nothing would stop them until the other was dead.

Herrick sprinted down the abandoned servant’s hall, trying to find his way to Maude. His fatemark pulsed on his chest faster than his heartbeat, which led him to believe that each pulse was a blow that Maude was taking in a fight for her life.

When he had reached the eastern gate of the palace, he had found it deserted. Not a soul guarding it. Then, the earth rocked as a section of the palace began to crumble under some great power.

Maude.