"These three hours that we have spent, / Walking here, two shadows went /
Along with us, which we ourselves produc'd." -- John Donne, "A Lecture Upon the Shadow"
Ursa and her brothers mope crossly in their stifling nursery until their mother orders a picnic. Then down to the waterside they run, outstripping the basket-laden servants and startling a flock of turtleducks from the green bank into the lazy stream.
After lunch, the boys play among the reeds while Ursa listens to her mother's stories of princesses and benders. Occasionally they toss leftover bread to the suspicious turtleducks, who squabble over every crumb. Ursa shrinks from their snapping beaks. A brave face begets a bold heart, says her mother, and shows her how to shoo the birds away.
oOoOoOo
Ursa finds her brothers practicing their firebending on a catweasel, driving the hysterical beast back and forth between them with gouts of flame. Stop, stop! she shouts, tugging at Zhang's belt, but he pushes her away. Don't spoil my aim! he says. We're not hurting it. We're not even touching it!
She grabs the catweasel, but it claws her arms and she drops it. Zhang shoves her to the ground; she screams until he lifts her scorched hem before her eyes. Cheng blanches, hiding his hands in his sleeves.
She trades her silence for their promise to leave catweasels alone.
oOoOoOo
Before she is pledged to him, Ursa encounters the Fire Nation's second prince at court. From afar, he seems handsome, vigorous and convivial -- a little spoiled, perhaps, as royal scions often are. Then the Fire Lord proposes a match between them and, with her parents' assent, Ozai comes to pay his addresses.
He converses with her shrewdly, drawing and holding her gaze, listening to her words. Other swains have praised her beauty and grace, but Ozai takes her measure. It delights her to be so attentively weighed, so beguilingly sifted.
When he asks for her hand, she smiles and consents.
oOoOoOo
Warned that a married woman must learn to enjoy her husband's company, whatever his tastes, Ursa is relieved to find Ozai so heedful of her desires. Later she realizes he is less eager to please her than to prove himself -- but when her pleasure demonstrates his prowess, that distinction is moot. Strong children are forged in the fires of love, he reminds her, smirking as she blushes.
She, too, yearns for children, not as proof of her womanhood, but for their own sake. So she welcomes her husband whenever he comes to her, fanning their shared hope into a blaze.