The tent is absolutely filthy and smells of platypus bear dung.
Two of your private guards walk behind you despite your protests. You could kill them, kill seven attackers, and have a moment to laugh in between before they even saw it coming. Still, it's good to have someone to harass on such a long trip. Your eyes engulf the scenery around you as you come closer to the ring. Beaten up bleachers surround the tent, most likely caked in gum and old popcorn. The tent's top opens in a ring around the center to show off the ember sky as the sun sets. The heat sticks in your hair and on your skin but it feels like the boiling pressure in your body. You stop breathing through your nose as you almost gag on the smell.
"It is absolutely horrendous in here," you say confidently. "Ensure we burn it down when we're through." You smirk. The guards only nod with their usual "Yes, princess. Of course."
You stand with a hand on your hip and a sharp glare in your eyes. The dingy orange tent exhales as if it were listening. "Hello?" You call. "I won't be kept waiting!"
They knew you were coming and yet here they are, late. What kind of imbeciles are late to their own meeting in their own business? You consider leaving but you travelled too far and you'll have to travel even farther for what you need. You watch the opening on the other side of the ring through the trapeze net. You hear animals roaring and whining in the distance. You won't call again.
A tall, thin man in an orange suit stumbles through the opening. The black curtain flails behind him as he nearly falls. He adjusts his orange top hat back onto his head and smiles widely. "Hello, your majesty!" He calls and does an exaggerated bow. "I do apologize for my tardiness, we were working on our performance for tonight!"
You scoff and your golden eyes roll, pathetic creature. You keep your stoic view as he walks closer. You won't be his friend and you don't even need to pretend to be nice. He has a black mustache and beard glimmering with styling product. They stick out in near perfect triangles. His face is worn and dirty but almost covered up by awful stage make-up. This is the man with the rare lizards you had heard so much about?
"Mr. Farrow. I hear you have something that may interest me," you say. He smiles wide and laughs. His teeth are yellowed. You want to gag again.
"Yes! Of course. My Mongoose Lizard's eggs have just hatched. They're marvelous little creatures!" He gestures behind him toward the opening he came out of. "Please, right this way, your majesty."
You say nothing as you prop your chin up high and follow him. He doesn't think you can hear him gulp but you can. He even opens his mouth once and takes a harsh breath to speak again but he doesn't. You take joy in his silence.
Through the curtain is a variety of things you don't care to see. Filthy caged animals of all shapes and sizes. The ones that are doing well pace in their cages. The sick ones lay and whine at the sky. No one seems to be listening. You follow the man past a shirtless man swallowing a sword. You are tempted to punch him in the throat but you wait. You stop and you watch him.
"Why are you not bowing?" You ask. He points at the sword now down to the hilt in his mouth.
"That's no excuse. Bow, peasant." The ringleader wants to interject but he knows it means death. The man goes to reach the handle but you put up your hand to stop him.
"Bow first." You say. Everyone around you gulps. Their tension clogs the air and you take delight in their fear. You relish in it for a moment as the sword swallower goes to bow. The more you look at his eyes, the more panicked he looks.
"Princess!" Someone calls and there is a sigh of relief from everyone but you. The sword swallower waits in agony. You turn on your heel to face the sound.
"Oh, Princess how delighted I am to see you at our circus!" A fat man exclaims. He's wearing a red suit that just barely fits him but he's cleaner than everything else here. He bows immediately at your sight and approaches quickly. "I am Mr. Lee. I own the circus. I see Mr. Farrow has already brought you back."
"Yes," your word drags. "It's a real...pleasure."
"Thank you, your majesty, thank you." He's overbearing with glee. He's frightened, you can smell it even among the feces.
"Take me to the lizards before I grow bored."
"Yes, your majesty!" Mr. Lee says gleefully.
You stare at the sword swallower who removed the blade during the ruckus. He is bowing on the ground, sniveling. You won't kill him yet, you suppose. You follow the circus men as they lead you past cages and tell you about all their creatures. You don't listen to a word. You reach the end of the cloth hallway. There is an enormous cage set to itself at the end. A nearly twenty foot long Mongoose Lizard is curled around the edge of the cage hissing at the top. Your eyes look up to the top of the cage. A girl is perched and facing away from you. Her frayed braid sways at her back as she dangles a large slab of meat between the top bars.
"This is one of our-employees," Mr. Lee chuckles nervously. "She feeds our fine beasts and helps train them when she isn't working on her fine acrobatics."
You look up at her in a daze. Your sharp attention to detail catches you off guard. Something about her braid makes you smell the ocean for a moment. You can hear a giggle in the distance as if you're fading into a different time. The meat plops down into the cage and the babies scramble towards it and the mother snaps her jaws onto it. You yourself snap into the moment. Mr. Lee has been talking and you haven't heard a word.
"What do you think?" He reitterates. You tilt your head and pretend you've been thinking about your decision. You're a fine actress.
"They seem absolutely savage," your words come out smooth as your smirk takes over. The girl on the top of the cage seems to immediately be sent on edge. She moves quickly off the top of the cage, her hands grabbing the edge and her legs so expertly flip as she lands in a perfect bow.
"They've all been fed, uh, sirs." She says. That voice, that broken, shy little voice. The way her body moved. You remember a flip like that. One where a girl nearly broke her leg coming over the top of your bed frame. You dared her, she took the command well, she always did.
"Good. Take your leave, quickly. We have special company this evening." Mr. Lee is quick to speak and there's a harsh undertone in his voice. You glare at him. You look to Mr. Farrow who is far too fidgety.
"I apologize," Mr. Lee gulps. "I had thought everyone would be in their quarters during your visit, princess." He flinches at the last word.
"Princess?" The girl's voice is faint. She looks up and finally, you see her face. She has a large bruise on her left eye, and her nose seems to have recently been reset from a break. Her golden eyes are so tired, so afraid. Her lip is swollen. You knew about the slave trade, the missing girls, you just hadn't put the pieces together.
"Azula," she sighs happily. Her eyes begin to tear.
"How dare you address the princess in such a way!" Mr. Farrow shouts. He tries to kick the girl in the head. You smirk. You move quickly, your hand flies out and grabs him by the throat. You ignite your palm and he begins wailing in pain. You hold his throat until he drops to the ground, he loses his ability to scream as his vocal chords slowly burn in your grasp. You stare at him, that cold yet fiery stare. You watch him cry as the light slowly fades from his eyes.
Mr. Lee drops to his knees. "Please, princess, no. Have mercy." His previously cheery voice quakes. You drop your victim and turn, void of all emotion.
"You deserve no such thing and you will receive nothing close," you reply. The girl on the ground moves quickly. Her fingers jab into his throat, his shoulder, his stomach. She hits with precision and whatever strength she has left. You watch with joy as he falls the rest of the way to his ground. She's crying as she does it. Her body is frail, she's too thin. She sits on the ground beside him. You walk over silently and place your foot on his tear coated cheek. You lift your boot only for a second to kick it back down. He becomes engulfed head first in your flame and rage. He doesn't deserve it, he didn't get anything close to what you were capable of.
"Guards, release the lizards. We will leave promptly. Ensure that there is nothing but ash behind us as we go."
"Yes, princess, of course."
The girl looks up at you, crying. You can't tell if it's happy or sad. You don't care. You hate tears, you always have. They're extraordinarily unproductive.
"Azula I-" She starts. You finish.
"Come now, let's go home," you say. She gets up slowly and walks just slightly behind you. You hear the guards quiver in fear as they open the cage. You don't care. You hear circus performers screaming as the hallway starts to burn. You walk silently out of the disgusting tent. You find your horses where you left them. The guards come closely behind, four lizards following nearly obediently. You mount your horse and pat the back of the saddle. The girl climbs up behind you and places her hands gingerly on your hips.
You smell the ocean once more, even in the middle of the desert. You see her struggling not to cry over the broken leg. You envision all of those missing posters, all those days spent silently with Mae. You hadn't worried, you hadn't missed her, you tell yourself. You're a fine actress.
Your guards tie links of rope from their horses to the lizards. They salute their readiness as they mount. You begin your journey back to your ship. You can smell the ashes in the distance. You can feel the heat of the flames in your blood. You say nothing as she collapses against your back. Your reflexes don't knock her flying off the saddle as she rests her cheek between your shoulder blades. You will only allow this once, you think. You would kill her for this on any other day.
You really are a fine actress.