Mai hates charity.
That probably makes her a bad person.
She wrinkles her nose and shakes the small child off, who has become entranced by the heavy golden embroidery of her robe. The orphanage mistress sniffs her disapproval at Mai's grimace of disgust, and continues to lead the Fire lady to the main office.
Mai has changed from her customary, pragmatic clothes to a dress more befitting a Fire Lady – all ebony silk, gold lotus flowers stitched in a gilded web upon the sleeves, buttons running from the waist to neck.
She hates it.
All of this.
She sits when then reach the office, and burns her mouth upon the offered tea.
'I must say,' the older woman says 'We never expected to see you here.'
'I have sectioned off a measure of the budget to be filtered into philanthropic causes.'
'Well,' the mistress raises her eyes 'that at least seems plausible.' She does not have respect for the cold woman before her – people must earn her respect, not be granted it because they are married to the Fire Lord.
Mai senses this.
'You have never done any charitable deeds before.'
'With my own private finances I have.'
'I have not heard of any particular actions.' Mai looks out of the window, stifles a sigh of boredom – already this woman has made her feel lethargic.
'I do not like to publicize what I choose to spend my money on. I get no particular joy from charitable work.'
'Then why help us now, Lady Mai?' The Fire lady looks her up and down with an appraising eye, and cracks a rare smile across her icy face.
'Perhaps I am bored. Or maybe I do have a concept of right and wrong – I just get no particular joy either way. I will never be a good person – but a suppose I ought to do the right thing. Does that answer your question?'
'Yes, my lady.'
'Good. Now, if you would be so kind as to tell me what annual income would fulfill your needs.'
'In order to pay for food, extend our premises, give healthcare, clothing, a rough estimate would be-'
'I shall give you this.' Mai takes a folded piece of paper from her sleeve and hands it to the orphanage mistress.
The woman's face pales. She looks, uncomprehending, at the (now extremely bored) woman sitting before her.
'This is far too generous-'
'No. It is not. Children need people to look after them. They need games to play. They need books to read. They need sweets on special days. They need birthday presents and trips to other places. When they grow they need funding, to start an independent life. All of this taken into account, I think you will find my estimate is exactly right. If a little sparse. Now if you will excuse me, I must be going.' The Fire Lady sweeps out of the office, leaving in her wake a stunned, silenced woman, and then proceeds to pick her way through the crowd of milling children, rolling her eyes and attempting not to let them touch her. Finally, finally, she emerges out of the orphanage, to where her guards should be waiting.
They are not.
Instead, there are soldiers.
'Mai of Omashu, we place you under arrest for treason.'
'Under whose orders?'
'Fire Lord Zuko.'
Ah. Well.
Brilliant.
