I know I can be a brat. I've been told that enough. It's just what I'm used to.

Before everything–the fire, the soldiers, the Freedom Fighters–I'd been living the high life. Expensive food and clothes, servants galore, parties, parents who expected me to behave like a lady, but still loved me. And, unlike Toph, who seems to not like me because of this, I liked it.

I was eight when it all happened.

It was mid afternoon. I was talking to one of the servant girls, one closer to my age. Because that's all I saw her as, a servant, it took me until I lost everything to realize that, by losing her, I'd lost the closest thing I'd even had to a friend.

"I still can't believe we had to move to the colonies," I grumbled.

She looked at me with that soft face of hers. "It's not all bad. At least you don't have those fussy diplomats breathing down your neck now."

"Yes, because soldiers are so much better."

She sighed and sat down on a tree stump, fingering the hem of her light brown, torn dress.

I did the unthinkable and sat down on the stump next to hers, mimicking her fingers on my simple dress of white silk, lined with lace.

"You know," she said, "you're perfect. Your life is perfect, you're beautiful…"

I smiled. "I guess. I'm happy. But sometimes I wonder what it would be like if, say, my parents were around more."

She smiled back. "I know the feeling. My parents are too busy, too."

Then we heard the first crash.

Both of us got up–I say that because she jumped and I didn't–and walked–or ran–closer to the house.

The house was on fire.

A handful of the villagers were fighting off our guards or helping the flames spread.

She looked terrified for a moment, then turned to me and whispered, "Go."

But everyone had still been in the house. At least, my parents had.

"What?"

Her eyes turned fierce. "They're here for your family. It's because of where you're from. I'm like them; maybe they'll listen to me; but if you go out there, you'll get slaughtered."

It sunk in, what she was saying. But what would happen to everyone else?

"But what about–?"

"Go!"

I turned and ran. But, of course, being nobility and all, I'm not known for my stamina.

I stopped to catch my breath after a smidge more than a minute.

I could still hear what was going on.

I'm not known for my speed, either.

Even from that distance, the sounds alone worried me. Let alone thinking about what could have happened.

I realized I actually cared about that girl. And her family.

Let alone mine.

I was the closest to crying I'd been in… ever. Or, at least, since my mother told me nobility doesn't cry.

They were really the same thing.

I heard a cheer go up. That was it. I knew they were gone.

I let my guard down and the tears started flowing.

"Hi," a soft voice said.

I jumped and turned towards it, reflexively wiping at my eyes.

A girl a bit younger than me was standing barefoot in the dried grass. Her hair was brown, a few shades darker than mine, and seemed singed off at the ends. Her eyes were hazel. Her dress was torn.

And she was covered in burns and scars.

I couldn't think of anything to say. According to my mother, ladies aren't impulsive. Especially when their impulse is to scream.

"I'm Whistle," she said, smiling a bit. The name fit. The S made a whistling sound, and I noticed the gap where her two front teeth should have been.

"Hello," I rasped. I cleared my throat as daintily as I could.

"Whistle!" someone yelled. "Where did you–?" Whoever it was stopped a few feet behind me. "Oh."

They walked over next to Whistle. It was another girl, this one a few years older than me. She had brown hair up in pigtails and with a fringe, brown eyes, a pair of expensive-looking glasses, quite pale skin, freckles, a very patched-up brown shirt and pair of pants, lighter brown boots, and what looked like a rock on a chain around her neck.

She smiled a bit, sadly. "I'm Granyt."

I nodded slowly. I felt almost like the world had slowed down. One minute I'm running for my life, the next these two girls are looking like they pity me.

"So, what happened to you?" Granyt said, sitting down.

I tilted my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"You know, village burned down, parents killed, what?"

Whistle sat down next to her.

I looked away. "My home was burned down."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Whistle look at me strangely.

"But why?" she said, walking over and kneeling right in front of me. "Why would they hurt you? You're one of them." She reached up and cupped my cheek in her hand, looking into my eyes.

"What do you mean?" Granyt said my thoughts. She walked over and kneeled down next to her. Her eyes widened when she saw my eyes and she sighed. "Bee's not gonna like this…"

"Huh?" I whispered.

She sighed again. "You need a place to stay, right?"

I hadn't even thought about that. I nodded.

"We might be able to help." She stood up and looked down at Whistle. "Well, Whistle, you found her."

Whistle nodded and looked back up at me, determined. "Lace."

I looked up at Granyt, questioning.

She smiled. "It's your new name. If you live with us, you have to have one."

I nodded slowly again. I liked the sound of it. Elegant, but simple. Granyt held out her hand. I took it and she pulled me up. I did the same for Whistle.

The three of us started walking, hand in hand. And I thought, Maybe this won't be so bad.