of heiresses and a goddess | drummingdame & selbstlose--eiskoenigin
Her books were burning, again.
She had known that her parents were against the very notion of her learning magic, against any mention of it. It was because of her brother, of course. It was not even her fault. It was not her fault that she had again frozen the surface of the pond, nearly killing her father’s kois.
But what could Urania do?
The ice was in her fingertips and all the so-called doctors her parents had called to take it away from her had not helped her at all. No. It had gotten even stronger. To her, the only way out of this chaos was to learn to control it — and she needed those books. She needed books to make sure she did not accidentally cover the mansion in ice, to make sure she did not scare the servants or her parents.
The ice was there, always.
Lurking just beneath the surface.
She had no means to keep it back, not yet at least.
And that was what she had to learn. She had to control the power and to control it, she had to understand it. As much was obvious, even to her. Her grandmother had said the same when she had scolded her father, raven eyes burning with anger.
Urania liked her grandmother a lot more than she liked her parents.
Her grandmother took the time to understand, really tried to make sure that it would get better. She had been the one to knit the scarf, had been the one to buy the books behind the parents’ back.
But no matter how much the old lady tried, the books burned again and again.
"I apologise, grandmother," Urania whispered, walking away from the glowing embers, away from the pain.
