What do you want from me? You want a teary confession of how hard my childhood was? Well it wasn't. I was a rich only child and got anything I wanted... as long as I behaved… and sat still… and didn't speak unless spoken to. My mother said I had to keep out of trouble; we had my father's political career to think about.
As Long as I Behaved
Mai sat patiently on the red velvet stool in front of the vanity. The servant assigned to do so ran a turtle-seal tusk comb through her long black hair as she stared at her own reflection. At fourteen years old, Mai was a very tall, slim girl. Her skin was so fair it was nearly opalescent.
"That girl of yours," her mother's friends would say, "She's very pretty. But, oh, she's pale as death! Does she ever go outside?" Mai's mother didn't think it appropriate for young ladies to rough house outside, like men and animals.
The middle-aged woman combing Mai's hair hit a knot; she tugged hard, making Mai flinch. As Lin, the servant, continued running the comb effortlessly through the waves of black, Mai sighed. Tears threatened at the sting where strands of hair used to hold, but Mai bit them back.
Moments like these always made Mai think about her mother.
"Never," she told Mai one day, after the child had been teased heavily by Princess Azula, "And I mean never, show any signs of inferiority." Mai had continued to cry softly; her mother rolled her eyes and handed her daughter a silk red handkerchief. "Petty tears will not help you in situations like these. Hold your head high," her mother tilted Mai's chin up to meet her gaze, "And stay noble."
After this conversation, after Mai had repeated some profanity (heard from her father) to Azula to make her stop, Mai's mother had to constantly remind her to hold her tongue in presence of royalty or higher ranked people.
Lin grabbed pieces of Mai's hair and twisted them up into small buns on both sides of her head. I despise this style, the teenager thought testily. Her mother's words, yet again, slid into memory.
"Put your hair like this more often," the woman said, holding her daughter's hair in the form as an example. Mai was six years old at the time.
"I don't like it that way," Mai had protested. A harsh look from her mother made her shrink back.
"For one," she continued, "Don't talk back to anyone, especially to me. Secondly, this style is more noble than leaving your hair down like you do. Do as I say." Even now, Mai wears her hair in that same dreadful style her mother showed her.
The servant picked up white powder and splashed it on Mai's young face. Lin grabbed brushes of different textures and shapes and applied a deep red liquid to her lips, pink powder to her cheeks, and gold paint to her eyelids with a heavy black liner. When Lin had finished, Mai looked disgusted at her reflection.
She looked like a circus performer.
Lin helped Mai get up as she led the fourteen-year-old to lean against the wall. The servant grabbed the strings of Mai's corset, prepped her foot against the wall, and pulled the ribbons hard; the elephant-koi bone of the garment dug into the girl's skin, making her already small waist tinier. After she was strapped in tight, Mai tried to breathe out her relief; that small task proved impossible.
More and more silk garments were piled on Mai, being locked in tightly into each one. At last, Lin put the final touch on Mai's apparel by tying a red sash around her waist. As she stepped into the pinchy, tight shoes, Mai finally stepped towards the full length mirror by her bed.
The image staring back at her was not at all her. Mai's reflection was a younger version of her mother.
"Pretty girl," Lin gestured with a smile, and led Mai to the front room where her parents were waiting eagerly.
"Mai!" her father boomed, "What took you so long? Now we might be late for the party."
"Oh, dear," Mai's mother scoffed, "We'll merely be fashionably late."
"Either way," he said more calmly, "We must go now." As the family walked outdoors to their awaiting carriage, the older woman whispered advice to her daughter.
"There will be many eligible suitors there, Mai," her mother said, "Make sure not to make a complete fool of yourself. Walk with grace, don't eat too much, speak only if approached, keep your head up-"
"Mother," Mai interrupted, much to her mom's surprise, "Would you stop? I don't want to meet any suitors tonight. I just want to be left alone."
"Hold your tongue!" the woman warned. She examined her daughter haughtily. "Is this about Zuko again, Mai? He's not coming back! There is no use waiting. So listen to me and be a lady tonight, no matter how hard that may be for you!"
As they climbed into the carriage, Mai's mother kept harping on her about her expected performance. But any advice said fell unto deaf ears, as Mai leaned to look out the carriage window and completely ignored her parents. This time, words from Lin (out of a moment of friendliness) came to Mai's mind.
"Just listen to your parents, Mai," she had said. "As long as you behave, you will get whatever you could possibly desire.
"As long as I behave," Mai thought sadly, as a silent tears drifted down her cheek, leaving a clean path through pounds of make-up, "I will be happy."