20th Day, 1st Moon, Year of the Dragon (Azulon 65)

Things have returned more-or-less to normal. I never did pluck up the courage to face my husband directly, but I think I have dispelled all his doubts about my loyalty. I did help him win, after all…

I had ordered lunch for us (steamed duck, the importance of which will become clear) and gone, with Zuko, to see if Ozai would eat with us in the solarium. My inquiries led me to the training arena, where I found my husband sparring with Lu Ten, of all people, while Iroh coached his son from the sidelines. None of them spotted me at first, and for a moment Zuko and I watched the spectacle in silence. My son's eyes were wide with amazement and perhaps a little terror, and I cannot say I did not share his opinion. The sight and sound of the flames flying back and forth was a breathtaking one, and I was struck by how strong and competent my husband appeared…and how attractive, with his half-naked body shining with sweat in the firelight! Whatever else I may think of him, I cannot deny that he is a fine figure of a man!

Poor Lu Ten was obviously hopelessly outmatched in every respect, trapped so far into the defensive position that he was almost in retreat, doing much more dodging than firebending.

"Don't be intimidated!" Iroh called to him. "Find an advantage and use it!"

Even at a distance, I could tell the boy was in distress. My husband was using unusually aggressive tactics for a simple sparring match, and Lu Ten didn't know how to handle it. After a near-miss sent him scampering, I shouted for Ozai to be careful lest he burn him. It would have been better for Lu Ten if I hadn't, however, because he glanced up to see me, and in that instant my husband darted in and attacked! There was scarcely enough time for Iroh to shout a warning, certainly not enough for Lu Ten to react, and the next thing I knew, my nephew was crying out and clapping a hand to his right ear.

"I told you!" I said, hurrying to the arena entrance as quickly as I could while carrying Zuko. Iroh had already leapt over the railing to help his son, while my husband stood by, unperturbed. By the time I reached the little gathering, Iroh was already smiling.

"It's all right," he said. "He's not hurt. He just lost a little hair." I saw—and smelled, unfortunately—that the little tuft of hair in front of his ear had been singed right off. There was some redness to the skin, but it was fading too rapidly to represent an injury as such. His cry, I realized, had been of alarm rather than pain.

"I'm glad," I said for lack of anything else to say.

"Hi, Aunt Ursa," said Lu Ten. "Hi, Zuko." He seemed embarrassed to have been caught performing so poorly.

"Ursa, what are you doing here?" asked my husband, sponging off his sweat with a cloth.

"Watching a grown man use unnecessary force to subdue an eight-year-old child, apparently," I replied. "You could have done him serious harm."

"I'll thank you not to question my skill and control, woman," he said, not too disdainfully.

"It's okay, Aunt Ursa," said Lu Ten. "I asked him not to hold back. I'll never become a master firebender if I only train with people who go easy on me, right?"

"Lu Ten, do you know why you lost?" Iroh asked sternly.

"Yes, Dad. I let myself get distracted."

"That's right. Never take your attention off your opponent, not even for an instant."

"Oh, Lu Ten, I'm so sorry for distracting you," I said.

"No, it's my own fault," he said immediately. "I should have been more focused. I bet Uncle Ozai would have won anyway, though. He's really good!"

My husband pretended not to hear, but I caught a hint of smugness on his face as he donned his robe again. "Indeed," I agreed. "I wonder if the great defeater of small boys would do me the honor of joining me in the solarium for lunch?"

"I don't make a habit of taking meals with people who mock me," he said in a drolly matter-of-fact tone.

"Mockery? Perish the thought!" I said. "And I should tell you that someone will be very disappointed if you don't." I hoisted Zuko higher on my hip, drawing attention to him, and the little darling babbled and reached out toward his father, just as if we had rehearsed it!

"What's his problem?" said Ozai.

"He wants you to hold him, silly. He likes you. Leave Papa alone for now, Zuko. He must be tired from exercising. Are you coming, my lord husband? The duck will get cold."

"I suppose you leave me no choice," he said.

"You ordered duck?" Iroh broke in, suddenly interested…as I had known he would be!

"I ordered exactly two helpings of it," I informed him. "If the Dragon of the West can't procure his own lunch, what's this world coming to? We'll see both of you later."

"Thank you for sparring with me, Uncle Ozai!" Lu Ten said with a neat bow. "I'll do better next time!"

As we left the arena, I made sure to let my husband set the pace, and to keep Zuko from grabbing at him. He maintained an emotionless demeanor, and we spoke little during lunch, but I do believe I impressed on him my faithful intentions. He can hardly have failed to notice my deliberate mention that we were having one of Iroh's favorite dishes without inviting him! I only hope I didn't give the appearance of protesting too much…but my husband has been gentler with me this afternoon than over the past few days. He didn't even bring up the wet nurse issue. Do I dare hope that I have found a reliable means of mollifying him? Only time will tell, I suppose.