Not too much to say about this...let me know what you think!

After being uncomfortably scrubbed down to remove the grim of travel and dressed in ill-fitting clothing by an array of servants, Moro had been taken to a room that reminded her of her mother's sunroom. A small feast had been laid out for her as well. Despite her hunger, Moro couldn't bring herself to eat. Everything tasted like ash, even though it smelled delicious and looked just as good. A few of the servants lingered, perhaps waiting for the Fire Lady, but didn't say anything to her. They simply milled about, occasionally stealing glances at the child of their conquered enemy.

She played with sleeve of the garment, hating the deep red color of the material. It was nice fabric but much too large for the lithe figure of a child. Her hair was still wet from the bath, but the room was warmed by the natural sunlight that caused the golden wall decorations to glimmer.

Moro picked at a piece of meat with chopsticks, but it wasn't appealing. She'd never really cared for meat. Her sister's had teased her for being a picky eater. It had annoyed her so much, but Moro would give anything to hear them teasing her again. She dropped the piece of meat back on the plate and choked back a sob. From the corner of her eye, she saw two of the servants exchange glances. None came to comfort her. They didn't know if that was allowed.

Silence settled over the room and wasn't broken until one of the doors slid open. At once, the servants bowed to the Fire Lady who swept in with the grace of a spirit. Moro lifted her eyes from her plate of mostly untouched food and met the Fire Lady's gaze. There must have been something unsettling in her jade green eyes because Ilah stopped dead in her tracks.

Fire Lord Azulon may have just been a man instead of the monster she expected, but his Fire Lady was something from one of the myths her mother used to tell. Tall and willowy, even as she stood still the Lady was graceful. Black hair had been intricately wrapped around a flame ornament – simple but elegant. Gold eyes were set in a pale face with high cheekbones and full, painted red lips. Nothing was out of place. Moro had never seen a woman so perfectly put together. It seemed unnatural, but so very Fire Nation.

Moro couldn't look away and found herself studying Ilah's face with an unexpected intensity. Why would she take her as a servant, but then have her clothed and fed? She could still feel the weight of the chains upon her shoulders. This sudden shift in situation made no sense.

The Fire Lady had always felt sympathy towards the other nations. However, it had been shamefully easy to forget they were at war. She'd never had to face the consequences of her husband's violent actions. Now, here in her favorite sunroom was a child her husband had made an orphan. There was a sorrow in the child's eyes she'd never seen before, a complete loss of innocence. Her husband, her nation, had caused it.

"Child, I…" Ilah started to speak but was at a loss of words. What was there to say? She looked away for a moment, unable to keep eye contact with the child that embodied her suppressed guilt. "I'm sorry for your loss." The words felt empty, and Ilah knew they were meaningless.

It was only after the Fire Lady apologized that Moro looked away. More silence followed. "I'm still a princess," She murmured softly, furrowing her brows and subconsciously forming fists with her little hands. "You can…you can take everything else away…but I'm still a princess!" Moro nearly shouted at the Fire Lady, tears welled in her eyes. The words were a poor paraphrasing of Sumi's speech before the final assault on their home. Nothing could ever change the fact they were the daughter's of Okami.

One of the servants gasped at the outburst, and Ilah's mouth was slightly parted in shock. Although tears streamed down her cheeks and her lips quivered pitifully, Moro kept her gaze firmly on Ilah.

"I know," Ilah replied softly before cautiously walking over to the table where Moro sat, and much to the shock of her servants, took a seat across from the child.

Moro blinked back her tears in shock, "you do?"

"Of course, you're the youngest daughter of one of the greatest Earth Kingdom kings, and I promise to treat you as such. You'll be my ward."

"What does that mean? What's a ward?" Moro tilted her head to the side in question like a little bird.

"It means you'll be under my protection and won't have to work as a servant." Or as much protection she could provide against her husband.

"Well, that's good, because I wouldn't be a good servant." Moro had been waited on all her, albeit short, life. She wouldn't know the first thing about being a servant.

Ilah couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Good indeed," Ilah motioned at the food, "is it not good?"

Moro shrugged, "I wasn't very hungry, after all." However, as she spoke, her stomach grumbled a little, "But…I guess I'm a little more hungry now."

"Well, eat your fill. Do you mind if I join you?" Ilah offered a small smile.

The child didn't smile back, but she did relax ever so slightly, "I think I'd like that, Fire Lady."

"I'm glad to hear that, Princess…" And with horror, Ilah realized she did not know which princess was sitting in front of her. She'd known the name of the prince and the mother, but not this poor child in front of her.

"Morokami, but everyone just calls me Moro," She helpfully filled in the blank without missing a beat. "It's okay. There are a lot of us," Her face fell, and tears filled her eyes again. "There were a lot of us. Now there's just me."

Ilah flinched at the change of tense, "and we can light incense sticks in their memory, if you'd like…" She knew she could not offer anything more formal for a memorial service. Azulon would not be pleased.

Moro nodded her head, "…yes…I'd like that…and for my little brother and mother too…" She wiped at her eyes and nose with her sleeve. "…and my nanny…she tried to protect us…"The list could go on without end.

"It'll be done then," Ilah offered a sad smile. "But for now, please eat. We can find something that fits a little better after as well."

The little princess wiggled her arms a little to show off just how ill-fitting the garment was before picking up a foreign vegetable with her chopsticks and nibbling on it. Ilah filled her plate and began to eat with delicately small bites.

Neither knew what to say so they said nothing, and so, the Fire Lady and her new ward ate in an unexpectedly comfortable silence.