The twins' father is a hunti fellow who makes an odd match for his elay wife and an odder one for her overwhelmingly sweela family. He comes home from his excursion to bless his twins with flexibility, imagination, and contentment for his son in his left pocket. In his right pocket are two sweela virtues, intelligence and clarity - that's a clue as to her alignment, if not a guarantee - and power.
Not every prime is graced with that particular hunti blessing in their first batch, but it's certainly suggestive.
Kiribel is possibly the most obviously sweela child of all time. She reads, she holds intensely strong opinions and defends them with more firey passion than wooden stubbornness, she seems to entirely inhabit her own mind to the point of forgetting that she's in the middle of trying to walk. Her twin is less obvious, but by the time they're seven people are guessing he's torz, and he doesn't dispute it. Their little brother is elay like their mother.
It's Kiri people pay covert attention to, because when the old prime dies, the new one is called up. The prime makes plans to start teaching her things, maybe bringing her to court, when the girl is ten.
The prime dies when Kiri is eight.
It's the middle of the night when it happens, and Kiri wakes up thinking the brightness filtering through her eyes is sunshine. It is not; she has set her bed on fire.
The accidental arson doesn't take particularly long to get under control. It's the other, less obvious power of the Ardelays that gives Kiri real trouble.
If the previous prime had the gift of mind-reading, she never saw fit to mention it to anyone. Kiri tells everybody, and screams at her parents and her brothers not to get too close to her, and weeps, inconsolable, in her replaced bed. There is a range limit. She can have company. But if someone gets within a few feet of her -
"I can feel it," she explains to Aleko, her twin, who is a safe distance across the room. "It's in your - warmness. Just stay about that far away and it won't happen."
"You can try it," she says dubiously to Jayce, their little brother, when he suggests wearing a lot of coats and mittens to obscure the warmness. That he does this in the hottest part of Quinnahunti demonstrates his dedication to hugging his sister.
But it doesn't help unless his face is covered up too, to the point where he can't breathe, so that doesn't work.
Kiri does without brotherly hugs for a month until Jayce has another idea without such suffocating pitfalls, and then she waits until Jayce is asleep, and climbs in with him, where she'll pick up nothing but fragments of dreams and only until she nods off herself. (Aleko sleeps lightly, and will surely wake up if someone joins him after he's managed to fall asleep; and Kiri talks at night; but if she sleeps first and he wears earplugs they can arrange things that way and only have Aleko sneaking back to his own bed at three in the morning half the time.)
She imagines this will work until she is at least twelve, but has no idea what she will do once it's weird for her to snuggle up to her sleeping brothers.
By this time there has been a fair amount of rumbling from various political interests that the new prime, eight years old or not, should be meeting various people, ranging from the king and queens and princes to the other primes, and Kiri is all for it. As a sort of concession to her age there is no objection that her brothers and parents accompany her to the Ardelay property in Chialto that she has inherited. They can't hug her - not without letting slip any secret that may cross their minds, and not without her nearing nausea from guilt; if Great-Aunt Ardelay did this casual invasion of everyone she met then Kiri is glad she's dead - but they can support her, with enough space between them.
Renny, her mother, has the most experience of anyone in the immediate family with politics, even if she couldn't stand the stuff and ran off with a man of no significant family at her earliest convenience. She's the one who goes shopping for Kiri's pretty new dress in sweela coral-red and other wardrobe items suitable for a newly visible prime. (Kiri dreads trying to navigate a crowd and doesn't care what she wears anyway.) She's the one who goes with Kiri to the palace. She stays five feet back as they walk in.
The king has already been immunized against the various powers of primes, so there's that.
"It..." She glances briefly over her shoulder at Renny, still following at the prescribed distance. "Doesn't work like how you were thinking," she decides to say. She holds up her hand and gloves it in flame. "I don't burn. It's just like sunshine. Or holding a cup of tea."
The fire's out before he gets close enough to touch it, although she leaves her hand where she was holding it in case he wants to touch her anyway.
"You don't feel like you were on fire," he comments. "Weird. I can't decide if I'd like it or not."
On the one hand, being all covered in fire and not burning sounds snuggly (and would be an excellent way to deter unwanted physical contact). On the other hand, if he couldn't ever get burned—that just sounds terrible.
And she goes back inside the palace.
"Why would you want to get burned?" exclaims Kiri when Renny is out of earshot. "I remember it from before I - primed, it hurt!"
Kiri decides this is a stupid way to conduct an argument with someone who'll be willingly within five feet of her.
She steps a little closer, closes her eyes -
"I don't get it. Help?"
There are kinds of hurting that just sort of are, and might be okay or not-nice or kind-of-nice, depending. Old injuries with unhappy origins, and hurting when he'd rather not be distracted from what he's doing or for some other reason doesn't feel like it, are this kind.
Most other kinds are actively nice. If he caught on fire a little bit, he would expect it to be fun. When he fell down the stairs last month, he giggled the whole way even though (as he found out afterward) he'd cracked a rib.
When his father beats him it often hurts more than most other things do, but 'more' and 'worse' do not run on the same scale. Falling down the stairs hurt as much as some beatings, but it was still fun, and they weren't.
(Her hair catches fire when she's startled, down from initial incidents that involved more distant objects or her less resilient clothes. She promptly extinguishes it, as near-reflex by this point.)
The prince regards her curiously and waits to see if she will say anything. If he has permanently taken away her ability to talk, maybe he will go get her mother or something. Even though this line of thinking is almost entirely a joke, he still contemplates ways to simultaneously make sure that Kiri gets safely back to her family and whatever help she might receive from that quarter, and make sure that his father doesn't find out he had anything to do with it.
And:
"I get the thing about wanting to be on fire - kind of - that wasn't the thing that surprised me so much, that was what I was looking for in the first place."
He's the king. Even if she decided that it would be best if the king were on fire, she could not bring this about. Thanks, Great-Aunt Elytte.
"Well, I'd mind, and my brothers are also really normal and they'd mind, and everybody I know would mind."