She destroyed every single mirror that was in her possession. She couldn't afford such slip ups, especially now at the crowning height of her glory. Azula couldn't bear to see such weakness reflected back at her whenever she looked into the mirrors. Those eyes and long hair which of course, with her upbringing she took proper care of. She just, never expected to have such a resemblance to her. Ever since she was a child she always looked towards Daddy and whatever image her father had bestowed upon himself, whether it was strength in the eyes of his father, her grandfather, or shame in the eyes to which he casted upon Zuko, his son, her older brother.
And yet, in her own silence and world of burning fire and glistening gold she saw, without a doubt, the image of her mother reflected back at her. It was disgusting. Yet, she was extremely transfixed. Fire Lord Azula - power hungry (which she greedily admitted to) and grand narcisist. However, she wasn't as sloppy as some when it came to the affairs of political gain. Oh no, she was quite the conniving one. She could count on her fingers the many men to whom would slip and fall into their own traps.
However, no matter how much she detested the image she received upon those glossy mirrors (cleaned and taken care of, properly by the many servants or the ones who were left anyway) she could never, ever look away.
That is why she decided to break every, single, mirror.
Sometimes, she would look for a couple of minutes and see her mother and something inside her would twist and turn. An upset stomach no less from eating something bad or rotten - another servant would pay for their mishaps. The mirrors that made her look more than she would bargain for, she would destroy with such delight that some questioned her sanity now more than ever. Lightning blasts and frequent fires were casual in the household that Fire Lord Ozai had left for his daughter to reign.
And sometimes, when she would catch herself offguard and that is many an infrequent occassion, she would sit there and stare for hours. In hopes of seeing something else reflected back. Perhaps an embrace? A kiss or two from a gentle mother's lips - a love that she had never received in her youth. It was always for little Zuko, never for adoring and fiercely determined Azula. Nonetheless, at times she often thought that these contraptions had some form of magic, or a magical control to them - either way she never understood why she would see her mother in the mirror.
Maybe she wished the image of her mother to be there? Of that she was uncertain but with certainty she did know of another desire that lingered. She knew it the moment she ran her pale, long fingers along her long raven locks of hair. She watched herself do so, and then became hypnotized by the image reflected back at her. The hands belong to another - that of her mother, showing her love and appreciation in a way she could never understand. Her hands roaming down towards her legs and then stroking along her tighs, a whisper and a moan would always follow.
She let herself fall towards the ground and she would lay there, in proper movement with the image reflecting back. Her cheeks flushed and her mouth formed into a pout and she said and whispered things she never knew about herself, as she laid there. The image a smirk upon her face. When she relaxed, she found herself alone in the room with the mirror, the reflection no longer there.
She never knew of control until then. That's why she had to break all those mirrors.