They didn't exactly hate her. They weren't exactly cruel. But the family had only adopted her to acquire themselves a less pricey servant. She supposed that she should be thankful that they paid her at all, legally they didn't have to. Indeed, they were a safe distance away from cruel but they still denied her a chance to go with them on family outings and to attend more luxurious events.
Perhaps it was wrong to steal finery, dress herself up in it, and go to the ball. But then, much of the upper class never had any regard for Zirin so why should she have any for them? Whoever owned the dress could probably pay for ten more to replace it. So she slipped in to silk of a deep forest green. It wasn't exactly her style her sleeves and the train of the dress dragged ridiculously long. And it had far too many emeralds all clustered at chest level. But she wanted to go to that ball so she would take what she could get. She would probably be the only gust there who didn't have any jewelry. At the very least she needed a mask, it was, afterall, a masquerade. She shuffled around her mistress' crate, at last she found something that would work. The mask is shaped like two squirrel-toads angled so that their heads touched and their bodies made for the eye slants. It was relatively simple and in a more vivid green than her dress, but she didn't have any other options. She hustled away from the scene of the crime and rushed to the palace. The night was still young but she only had until midnight before she'd have to beat her adoptive family home. She had gotten the majority of the housework out of the way so, she supposed that they couldn't get too angry with her so long as she returned the dress to whichever one of their guests owned it.
The palace was as splendid as she had heard. A towering building with many tiers and golden trimmed roof tiles. She took a deep breath, maybe she should turn around. She pushed her reluctance to the side and shimmied her way through the crowd.
And a lovely crowd it was; so much glitter and glitz. A whole rainbow spectrum of pretty and delicate gauze gowns. Lace and silk. Satin and velvet. The attire ranged from wholly opaque to nearly translucent. But each was elaborate in its own way.
And the masks. Those were the true spectacles, some were very clearly homemade. Others were forged from expensive shops. She spied a deer-dog with horns of polished ivory etched with intricate swirls. She noticed a rabaroo mask crafted pieced together by shards of diamond and glass. There was a wolf-bat mask covered in silk with black lace and a scatter of obsidian. Everywhere she looked was a new spectacle to behold. She smiled wide, it was overwhelmingly glorious.
The decor was eye catching as well, golden faux trees decorated the corners with glittering branches. Smaller versions gleamed on tables with silk red table cloths. Strings of ruby and topaz dripped from the ceiling and twirled around bamboo sticks. Paper lanterns glowed warmly overhead depicting things of the spirit world. The palace had been decorated to look like a forest. A magical spirit world forest.
Caught up in the splendor, Zirin took a step back. A step that had her colliding with another guest. The woman wore a bright red cheongsam gown, that hugged very tightly to a small form. Zirin was almost certain that the fox-lions and lotus flowers embroidered on it were made of real gold, or at least a touch of it. Her jewelry was certainly genuine. Long and thin bars of gold dropped from her ears ending with tiny rubies. A matching chain decorated her neck. Her arms were covered in golden bangles, one of which took the shape of a curling dragon. Another took the form of a curling fox-lion. Such was the make of her mask. A gleaming golden fox with criss-cross patterns etched in. Melted ruby filled the etches. A cascade of golden coins fell from either side of the mask. Matching the drip of her red-dyed lotus kanzashi. Her bear arms were a mural too, of shimmering, sparkling gold body paint. It had flares of red and orange to look like fire.
An elegant lady she was.
Zirin's cheeks colored for having bumped into her so rudely.
She sputtered a jumbled apology.
"You should be." The woman replied smoothly. "I take it, this is your first masquerade?"
Zirin nodded. "How'd you guess?"
"No one looks at the decorations for that long." She shrugged.
"Got any pointers for new attendees?" Zirin asked with a lopsided smile.
The woman nodded. "Don't ram yourself into royalty. Especially on their birthday ceremony."
Zirin made a noise, it was indistinguishable, of the surprised brand. She fought for some sort of tangible response. One that wouldn't leave her sounding like the peasant she was. All she could come up with was a horribly embarrassing, "happy birthday, princess."
She could hear the eyeroll in Azula's sigh. She thought that the princess must have been in a good mood that night because she mutters, "second piece of advice, learn to speak eloquently. If you're going to invade a party, at least pretend like you know what you're doing."
"I! I was invited!"
"Yes." Azula agreed. "You invited yourself. Stop acting like it, and pretend like someone important invited you."
Zirin blinked at the blunt remark. Her jaw must have been askew because the princess laughed. She held out a hand glimmering with ruby and gold rings. Zirin wasn't sure if she was supposed to take it or not, hesitantly her fingers curled around Azula's.
"If you're going to crash a masquerade, you should know how to dance at a masquerade." She guided Zirin through an elegant spin, one that ended in the princess holding her close. She had never been so close to anyone in her life. She can smell the princess' perfume. Beneath it is a tinge of smoke, the scent that ought to cling to any notable firebender. Azula took Zirin through a few more moves, before tsking to herself. "It's a shame. You might have been a skilled dancer if you weren't a peasant."
"I'm not-" Zirin started.
"Fourth piece of advice. At least try to bathe yourself before attending a high-class event."
Her cheeks reddened. This princess was going to drive her insane. A devious smile tugged at the woman's lips. She took Zirin into a new dance. A faster one. "You could have stolen some jewelry too." The princess noted nonchalantly.
Zirin was feeling rather gutsy. "Your necklace might match my dress."
Azula hummed. "Perhaps as well as that mask matches it."
"It was the only thing I could find."
"Naturally." Azula cooed.
.oOo.
The peasant girl was rather intriguing, Azula had to admit. She wouldn't give her name or anything about herself. Azula supposed that she wasn't as dull as she had initially thought. She hadn't exactly planned on spending her birthday sitting with a peasant under the moonlight and by the pond in her courtyard. She had expected, more or less, what happened every year; a dance or two with a noble and an elaborate dinner followed by opening the opulent gifts her father sought to give her.
This was something else.
This was new.
This was exciting in an almost forbidden way.
The girl prattled on and on about mundane peasant things. She was entirely lucky that she hadn't tried this conversation with someone else. She would have been arrested in a heartbeat. But somehow, Azula didn't mind the peasant babble. In fact she rather enjoyed the tall-tale about the milkmaid and the dragon. It must have been a word of the mouth story, because Azula had never read anything like it in the palace library.
She caught the girl peering at the sundial. It was perhaps only a few strokes away from midnight. Azula was feeling rather bold. She took the girl's face and turned it away from the sundial and towards herself. With only a fleeting moment of hesitation she kissed the girl in the squirrel-toad mask.
"Neat." The girl remarked.
Azula rolled her eyes. She didn't know why she had expected a more surprised or perhaps allured reaction.
"You're drunk." The girl accused with a sly smirk.
"I had one glass." Azula assured her. It was a lie. She had at least three. Perhaps her head was a little foggy, but she wasn't drunk. Not yet anyhow.
"Must have been a damn big glass." The peasent replied with a barking laugh.
"What makes you say so?"
"You're out here with me, 'stead of in there with the rest of the fancy people."
It was a fair point so she simply shrugged it off. The peasant glanced at the sundial again.
"Looks like it's time for me to take off." The girl noted. "Happy birthday, princess." She offered a clumsy bow and darted out of the garden. Azula wouldn't give chase, not for a peasant. And besides, the fool had gotten her gown tangled in a branch.
Tore a good piece of it off.
If she could track the Avatar down, she could find a peasant.
