Chapter 6 - Scandal
For all I was critical of my mother's choice to remain at the South Pole, upon my return to the Fire Nation I discovered that I was not above a little avoidance myself.
I spent most of my second term at the Royal Academy in the library, when I wasn't in class. Aza would join me sometimes, but neither he nor Iyego were zealously students, and even they could find better things to do. I let my friends know that there was some trouble with my family that had arisen during my visit home, and they didn't ask too many questions about my reclusivity. I didn't speak much to Izumi, either, and I also neglected to write to Zuko, which was foolish. If I had acted on Izumi's advice promptly, things might have gone better. At least, if I had been less isolated, I might have been better prepared for what happened next.
As it was, I didn't even find out about the first pamphlet until later on. Published anonymously, appearing mysteriously throughout the capital city, it alleged that the Fire Lord was displeased with his daughter and heir, and was seeking alternatives. The capital police initially took it as the work of some fanatical group that still wanted to put Azula on the throne, though they were unable to conclusively identify the culprits. Zuko was informed, but of course didn't see any need to reach out to me.
Whoever was responsible, the second pamphlet made their agenda more clear when it appeared two weeks later. This time they claimed that the Fire Lord had a secret son, hidden somewhere within the capital, and that he was planning, in violation of law and tradition, to make this illegitimate son his successor. There were some disconcerting details in this story - the author knew my age, and claimed to have several confidential sources, including a "provincial schoolmaster" supposedly responsible for my early education.
Zuko should have contacted me at that point, but I found out about it from my classmates, who were discussing the pamphlets in hushed voices before our instructor arrived for the morning's lecture on the early history of the Fire Islands. Iyego had acquired copies of the most recent publication, which were being passed around. "Pretty crazy, right?" Aza said when he and I got a look at one.
"Yeah," I agreed, dissembling with years of practice under my belt. "Totally ridiculous." At least, the part about Zuko trying to replace Izumi as his heir certainly was, even if other parts were a little too close to the truth for comfort.
"I don't know," Iyego said darkly, sitting back in his desk chair with his arms folded. "All of Sozin's line have disregarded tradition in some way."
Aza laughed at the insinuation. "Zuko is different from Sozin," he said dismissively. The professor walked into the lecture hall at that moment, and all who were discussing the seditious pamphlet hastily tucked their copies out of sight, myself included.
But Iyego shrugged as Aza took his seat next to him, on the other side from me. "Sure," I heard him mutter in reply, "but maybe not that different."
I had a lot of trouble paying attention to the lecture that day.
Still, I didn't write to Zuko. Aza had explained to me that this story had been going around for weeks, and I thought, if Zuko hadn't said anything to me, he must not think it was a big deal. It was hardly the first cheap gossip rag to cause a stir in the capital. It would die down like these things always did and soon everyone would be back to speculating about the new dragon hatchling or talking about the spending habits of the wife of the minister of finance, or something else like that. Further silence on Zuko's end over the next several days only seemed to confirm my assessment.
What I didn't know was that Zuko had not written to me because he no longer trusted the security of his correspondence. The wrong person catching a glimpse of a secret letter from the Fire Lord to his illegitimate son at this point would be a disaster. What he had done was asked Izumi to speak with me - but of course, I was studiously avoiding her.
So studious was I, in fact, that one late night in the library I fell asleep face down in a copy of Avatar Inigo's spiritual exercises - fortunately, not one of the Academy's priceless original manuscripts, for when I was abruptly awoken by someone shouting my name, there was a little trickle of drool running down the page. I hastily wiped away the offending saliva with my sleeve and blinked around groggily.
Sunlight was streaming in through the windows. My back was stiff from sleeping hunched over a desk. And the person calling my name was Izumi, who looked livid, and was brandishing another pamphlet in her hand.
"How'd you get in here?" I asked her, my mind still foggy. This library was closed to students in the lower school, even ones with royal privileges. That was mostly how I had succeeded in avoiding her.
But Izumi ignored the question. "Look at this," she snapped, tossing the pamphlet down on top of the book in front of me. The title on the front page read, How the Fire Lord has hidden his son by the Avatar's wife for these many years & plans to set his bastard above his noblest and most loyal subjects.
"Oh, shit," I groaned, rubbing the last traces of sleep from my eyes. A mild way of putting it, all things considered.
"Get up," Izumi ordered, grabbing hold of my arm and dragging me to my feet. "We're going to the palace, before anyone else who's seen this," and here she snatched up the pamphlet again, "finds you."
"It doesn't…" I began as she led me towards the door, then hesitated, afraid of the answer. "It doesn't identify me, does it?" I clung to the hope that people wouldn't immediately connect Bumi the Royal Academy student with the bastard in question.
"By name and everything," Izumi replied, shooting down that hope. She opened the library door, and cast a furtive look down the corridor, but it was empty. Judging by the angle of the sunlight streaming through the windows, everyone would be at morning prayers right now - where my absence was sure to add fuel to the gossip fire. But that meant we were able to pass through the school unobserved and out through the front gates, where Izumi had a palanquin waiting for us. We rode through the streets to the palace with the curtains closed.
"Why didn't you talk to Dad like I told you to?" Izumi asked sharply when we were under way.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginning of a headache. The day was already hot, and the closed curtains made the air stuffy, which didn't help. "I didn't think it was so urgent," I offered as a lame excuse. Telling her I had dragged my feet because I didn't actually want Zuko to be my father felt like something she might have taken as a slight against her.
"Well, it's certainly urgent now," Izumi replied crossly, tossing the pamphlet at me again. "These are everywhere."
With morbid curiosity, I picked up the pamphlet and skimmed its contents. There were still some fabrications - Zuko had not been the one to suggest I enlist in the navy, and as far as I knew there had been no secret correspondence between him and my mother all these years - but the gist of the story was frighteningly accurate, even if cast in the most sensational light. The author of the pamphlet saw my enrollment in the Royal Academy on a verteran's scholarship as taking a place from "a more deserving candidate", for example, and implied my mother was some kind of ambitious seductress with undue influence over the Fire Lord, determined to see her misbegotten offspring on the throne someday.
I burned the pamphlet to ash in disgust, but it would do no good.
When we got to the palace, we went straight to Zuko's office. Most of the guards and servants we passed were too well disciplined to let it show, but I did catch a few looking at me askance. I wondered how much they knew, if they had heard about the latest pamphlet, and just where their loyalties lay. The anonymous author of the pamphlets claimed to have sources everywhere, after all. It seemed only too likely, upon reflection, that conversations I had thought private on my previous visits to the palace could have been overheard, or letters seen by the wrong eyes.
Izumi marched into the office unannounced, and I followed. Zuko was seated at his desk, though Izumi and I both remained standing rather than take the two chairs opposite him. His hands were folded in front of his mouth, and he was listening intently to a younger woman I didn't recognize - one of his advisors or ministers, I guessed - who was standing next to him and speaking in a hushed voice. He looked up sharply when we came in, though he did not look pleased to see either of us. There was another copy of the latest pamphlet on his desk.
"Do you have any idea who could be behind this, Bumi?" Zuko said without preamble, pushing the pamphlet towards me across the desk. I barely glanced at it, having no desire to read it again.
"No," I said, just a touch defensively. "I was hoping you did."
"We are considering several possibilities," the unknown woman replied evenly. "But what is more important to discuss now is what we're going to do about it."
Presumably this woman was someone Zuko trusted, but as I still had no idea who she was beyond that, I didn't feel comfortable speaking freely in front of her. "You can deny it, of course," I offered half-heartedly, causing Izumi to glare at me.
"Is that what you want me to do?" Zuko asked, and I realized Izumi had been right. No matter what was at stake, he wasn't going to publicly acknowledge me as his son if I didn't want him to. My mother and Aang had both given their assent, however reluctantly. So how could I still be so hesitant to give him that permission, even now?
Because no matter what, letting him claim me, letting the whole world know, would feel like I was choosing Zuko over Aang, and that wasn't what I wanted at all. I had been letting my personal feelings get in the way of doing what was right, just like I had always resented my mother for. For so many years I had clung to the excuse that this whole problem had arisen from her choices, and Zuko's, and not from mine. It wasn't my fault, and it seemed so unfair. But that didn't change the fact that now I had my own choice to make.
Before I could form my conflicting feelings into an answer, the unknown woman spoke up again. "Zuko," she said pointedly, surprising me with her familiarity. "Whatever he wants, you can't just deny everything."
"Exactly!" Izumi agreed. "That's what I've been trying to tell him."
I looked at the woman in confusion. "I'm sorry," I said, losing my patience, "but who are you?"
Everyone looked at me blankly for a moment, before Zuko seemed to remember we had not been introduced. "Oh," he said with a wave of his hand in the woman's direction. "This is Kiyi. My sister."
"His half-sister," Kiyi specified. "The last royal scandal before you." Since Zuko's mother had been banished by her husband, most people had forgiven her for taking up with another man. But most people did not mean everyone, and the circumstances that had brought me into existence were not likely to inspire even near that much sympathy.
Other than that, though, I knew hardly anything about Kiyi - my aunt - and was thrown by how much she seemed to know about me. I hadn't realized Zuko had confided in anyone other than Izumi. "I was trying to avoid becoming a scandal," I protested, leaning against the back of the chair in front of me.
"At this point," Zuko said tiredly, "we have a scandal on our hands, and it's only a question of how much we can mitigate it." He met my eyes, and asked once again, "To that end, I need to know - do you want me to deny it?"
Kiyi and Izumi were both looking at me expectantly, but I held Zuko's gaze. The truth was, I did still want him to deny it. But it was too late for that. Without knowing who was behind the pamphlets, a denial now would only risk an even greater scandal if it was subsequently proved to be a lie. "What I want doesn't matter anymore," I answered. "You need to tell the truth."
It would not be quite right to say Zuko looked relieved. None of the weight of the situation was alleviated by my acquiescence. But some of the tension was eased. He had been prepared to let the truth be known publicly months ago, after all. I was the one who had stopped him, still not quite free of the deceptive habits that had been impressed on me from a young age. It was only too late that I was realizing we were never going to be able to hide this forever.
"Then that's what we'll do," Zuko agreed with a nod. "I'll need to prepare a statement as soon as possible." This would require meeting with several of his advisors, whom he sent Izumi to find. I think he would have had me stay for the meeting, too, but at that moment my stomach growled audibly, and Zuko seemed to finally notice my beleaguered appearance. A few hours of sleep at a library desk had not left me feeling terribly refreshed, and it certainly showed. With an apologetic smile, Zuko asked Kiyi to show me to a guest room and make sure I got something to eat.
I followed Kiyi through the corridors in silence. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but I felt certain that every guard or servant was staring at me behind my back now, listening curiously for any hint of gossip, and I was determined to give them none. They would have plenty to talk about soon enough.
The guest room Kiyi brought me to had already been prepared - presumably when Zuko had sent Izumi to go get me from the academy, he had already planned that I would not be going back - so when she left to see about breakfast, I took the opportunity to wash up and change out of yesterday's clothes. The wardrobe I had been provided with was depressingly full of formal court attire, but thankfully I had found at least one casual outfit, a short-sleeved red tunic with a darker red and gold vest.
Kiyi returned with a tray of food herself - the servants were being kept away from me, which was probably wise for the time being. Still, I was surprised when she sat down and joined me for breakfast. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances," she said, offering me smile and a bowl of congee. "I rarely get to visit, but Zuko's told me a lot about you in his letters." Her smile faltered a little, probably as she realized that one of those very letters might have been the source of the current circumstances, if it had been read by someone other than its intended recipient.
But at that point, I was eager to talk about anything else. "You don't live in the capital?" I asked, digging into the bowl I had accepted from her with some relish. I had skipped dinner the night before to study, and by now I was starving.
Kiyi shook her head, picking at her own food more delicately. "My father and I moved back to Hira'a after my mother died." I remembered when that had happened - the funeral for the Fire Lord's mother had been an internationally attended event, and the reason Aang had missed my twelfth birthday.
I frowned at the memory, and set my spoon down. "People loved your mother, didn't they?"
"They did," Kiyi replied, then gave me an understanding look. "But you know, I was mad at her for a while."
"You were?" I asked in surprise.
"She had this whole other life," my aunt replied with a sweeping gesture as if to indicate the entirety of the palace around us. "This whole other family. And she lived the first six years of my life as if none of that had ever happened." She shook her head sadly. "If Zuko hadn't come and found us, I think she would have gone on that way until the end."
In other words, I had deceit on both sides of my family history. I set my bowl down on the table, my appetite suddenly gone. Kiyi's situation wasn't really like mine, her mother's position hadn't been anything like my mother's, but still. "Did you…" I began hesitantly. "Did you ever forgive her?"
"It wasn't easy, that's for sure," Kiyi said, setting aside her own bowl and leaning back in her chair. "Even when I thought I was over it, as a kid, well…" Here she smiled wistfully. "I was really just so excited to have a big brother, I could overlook things. But my anger at her would come back at odd times, as I got older."
Resting on the table, my hand clenched into a fist. "How did you let it go?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"This might sound crazy," Kiyi said carefully. "But what finally helped me was...well, it was talking to Azula."
She was right, it did sound crazy. Azula's was a name hardly ever spoken in the capital, and then only in hushed tones. There was still a legacy of fear attached to the insane princess and would-be Fire Lord, who had terrorized her own people in the final days of the war, only to quietly disappear when Zuko took the throne. Everyone knew that Ozai was locked up, stripped of his bending, in the capital prison. What had become of Azula was a mystery. "How could she help you?" I asked skeptically.
"It's hard to explain," Kiyi replied with a shrug. "But you see...she was angry at Mom, too." After a pause, she went on in a softer voice, "I think Zuko was the only one of us who never held anything against her. He had a bit of a blind spot, where Mom was concerned."
With a sigh, I rubbed my knuckles against my eyes, feeling very tired. That was certainly not a handicap I had inherited from Zuko - I could see my own mother's flaws only too clearly. And I didn't have a crazy half-sister who could give me any guidance, like Kiyi apparently had gotten, though Kya was definitely also angry at our mother...thinking through all the comparisons in the complex web of relationships was giving me a headache.
"You probably should take some time to rest," Kiyi said after a moment, gathering the remains of breakfast back onto the tray. "I have a feeling you'll need it." With that, she left me to my own devices.
I knew she was right - I was exhausted, and there would be so much to do once Zuko issued the statement about me, presumably. But I was not in the habit of going back to bed in the middle of the day. Meditation, I thought, would do me better. The guest room had a balcony that faced east, still bathed in morning sunlight, and I brought a cushion out there, planning to do the prayers I had missed out on. But the warm sun was so comforting, the cushion so soft once I had sat down on it. I stretched out, just for a moment, and closed my eyes.
I was asleep almost instantly.
I was woken by someone gently shaking my shoulder, and opened my eyes to see Zuko crouching over me, brow furrowed in concern. "What are you doing sleeping on the floor out here?" he asked.
I pushed myself up into a sitting position, and Zuko leaned back a little, glancing over me with a strange expression. "What?" I said, running a hand over my hair - I had left it down when I changed, and it was now a mess, of course. "I was just.." I trailed off, blinking out at the courtyard that the balcony overlooked. The sun was now past its peak - early afternoon. So much for getting morning prayers in. "I didn't mean to fall asleep," I finished lamely.
Zuko nodded, stood, and offered me a hand. I got to my feet without it. "It's funny to see you dressed like that," he commented, ushering me back inside my room. A sensible precaution - the courtyard below was empty for now, but anyone might pass by the balcony.
"Dressed like what?" I asked, stretching my arms over my head. Sleeping on the floor was not really an improvement over sleeping at a desk, and my back was protesting this abuse. "These were the clothes that were left for me," I explained, a little self-consciously, brushing my hands over the vest to smooth it out.
"I know," Zuko said, taking a seat on one of the two red armchairs in the room. "Those are my old clothes." He gestured towards the chair opposite him, and I obediently sat down as well. "I told them you would need court attire, and I think my cast offs were all they could find on short notice. That outfit must have gotten mixed in."
"Oh," I said, looking down at myself. I didn't like the idea of being dressed like Zuko - I was happy to wear Fire Nation styles, certainly, I was a firebender after all, but not his actual clothes. "Why do I need court attire?" I asked instead, more tactfully.
"You're going to have to be presented to the court," Zuko replied apologetically. "After the announcement is made tomorrow morning."
I slumped a little in my chair at the reminder of what was happening. "So soon?" I complained. I knew it was important to respond quickly, to reassure everyone that I had no designs on the throne before the gossip got even more out of hand, but part of me had selfishly hoped it would take a few days for the statement to be drafted. "How did your advisors take the news anyway?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Zuko said, tucking his hands into his sleeves. "There are details in that outrageous story that must not only be denied but corrected, and I felt…" He cleared his throat nervously before going on. "Well, I felt you were owed the true story before everyone else finds out."
I looked away uncomfortably, studying the tapestry on the far wall - it depicted Avatar Roku with his dragon, almost certainly a post-war commission, since Sozin and Azulon had suppressed the Avatar cults as much as they could. "You mean like the part about my mother scheming to put me on the throne?" I asked, covering my own discomfort with flippancy. "I already know that's not true."
"I mean the part about your mother being, as you once put it, the Fire Lord's whore," Zuko countered, just a hint of accusation in his voice. I frowned, still not looking at him. If it had been wrong of me to call my mother a whore, it had certainly been worse for him to treat her like one. But not wanting to start another argument, I held my tongue.
At my silence, Zuko went on, "The first thing you need to know is that there was never an ongoing affair. It was…"
"One time, one mistake," I cut him off, working my fingers through the tangles in my hair. "I know. She told me that much." But one mistake was all it took, and there I was as living proof of that. Small comfort for me, and for Aang for that matter, that it had only happened once.
"One time, yes," Zuko repeated. "But there were so many mistakes that led up to it..." He trailed off into silence for a moment, and I cautiously looked back in his direction to see that he was gazing into the middle distance somewhere over my shoulder, that soft expression on his face once again. I braced myself for what was coming. "My first mistake was falling in love with her," Zuko said quietly. "And I'd done that years before."
I pulled my bare feet up onto the seat cushion and pressed my forehead to my knees. This was what I had always been afraid of, why I had never wanted to know the details of the affair, even if the mystery surrounding my own origins had bothered me. Everything that had happened since, all the pain it had caused...I couldn't bear to hear him try to justify it in the name of love. His feelings didn't make anything better.
But Zuko went on, and I resisted the urge to childishly cover my ears. "I never told her how I felt, but I think she must have known." He sighed, then added sadly, "She was the best friend I had." There was another pause, the sound of Zuko getting to his feet. I tensed, thinking he might try to comfort me, but he only paced the sitting area as he continued his explanation.
"We had gathered at the Southern Air Temple, all the old gang - in theory Aang wanted us to meet with the Air Acolytes, but really it was just an excuse for us all to spend time together, like the old days." He gave a melancholy sort of chuckle, and I could just picture his rueful grin, even with my eyes closed and my face still hidden. "And for a little while, it almost was like the old days, in a good way."
"But then we got word of unrest in Omashu," Zuko continued in a less wistful tone. "There were food shortages that year, and King Bumi's health was failing…" I knew the old king of Omashu had died shortly before I was born, and thus Aang had named me after his late friend. "Aang went to see what he could do about it, and Toph went with him, since she was living in Omashu at the time. But Katara..." Zuko took a deep breath, as if just saying her name had pained him. "Your mother stayed behind."
That surprised me. My mother had never accompanied Aang on any of his Avatar duties as long as I could remember, but I knew she used to, when they were younger. I had always thought she had stopped when I was born.
"Why didn't she go with him?" I asked, looking up and resting my chin on my knees. Zuko stopped pacing back and forth at my question, his hands clasped behind his back, but he didn't look me in the eye.
"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I've often asked myself that since, but…" He shook his head, and went on with his story. "Sokka returned to the South Pole a few days later," he said. "So I offered to bring your mother back to Kyoshi before I returned to the Fire Nation."
I said nothing, heart hammering in my chest. It wouldn't have happened if Aang had been there for her, my mother had said. "It was a short detour," Zuko continued. "When we reached Kyoshi I was planning to spend the night aboard my ship before leaving in the morning. But your mother wanted..." He looked away, towards the same tapestry of Avatar Roku I had been staring at earlier. "She said she got lonely, in the house by herself. She asked me to stay with her."
Zuko paused again. From the angle I was looking at him, his face was in profile, the unscarred side towards me. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, as if holding back some great emotion.
"She was lonely," I repeated, my voice little more than a hoarse whisper. That had always been the problem, hadn't it? My mother alone with her secrets and her shame while Aang flew all over the world, loved by everyone. But Zuko was painting a different picture now. If her loneliness had begun before her shame, then it was something deeper than I could fathom. "You're telling me this all happened...because she was lonely?"
"I knew it was wrong," Zuko said quickly, in response to the implied accusation. "But if I took advantage of her loneliness to indulge my feelings, she took advantage of my feelings to try to cure her loneliness." He cast his eyes down to the floor. "We both acted selfishly."
I let out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. He could admit his own selfishness, at least. But if Zuko was looking for words of consolation, I had none to offer. "Then what?" I asked, surprised by my own curiosity, now that the story was being told. "What happened after?"
"Nothing," Zuko replied, his voice heavy. "I left the next day, like I was supposed to. And that was the end of it all."
I couldn't accept that answer. "I know that...that never happened again," I said with an awkward shrug. Somehow, I had never doubted my mother's word on that matter. "But you must have…"
"No," Zuko cut me off, shaking his head. "I didn't see her again until your family moved to Air Temple Island, and even during that visit we barely spoke. There were no more letters between us until she wrote to me about your first visit here, and I haven't heard from her since." He half turned, looking back up at me at last, eyes filled with regret. "That wasn't just the end of the affair. It was the end of everything between us."
Still curled in my chair like a child, I held his gaze. "Not everything," I challenged him. "There was still me."
"That's true," Zuko agreed, coming closer. "You were the only good thing to come out of this." He reached out and cupped my chin with one hand. I tried to pull away, but this time he held me fast. "I'm sorry that I failed you, too."
All the old anger flared up again. Our conversations always seemed to go this way - Zuko apologizing, and me getting angry. I was so sick of it, but I didn't know how to break the cycle. I didn't know how to make myself feel differently. The best I could do was try to hold back from taking my anger out on him, this time. "So what happens now?" I asked instead, forcing myself to sound neutral. In spite of my efforts, the anger I felt crept into my tone.
Zuko let go of me with obvious reluctance. "The official statement will be released tomorrow morning. You'll be presented to a gathering of nobles in the afternoon, and made a member of the court." He gave me an apologetic look, knowing this was not what I wanted. "Anything less would be seen as tantamount to me disowning you."
"We can't have people thinking that," I said sarcastically. So much for making an effort to keep my anger in check.
But Zuko didn't argue. He looked pained. I don't know why I kept lashing out at him - after all, I had figured out by then that Aang was the only father I wanted. In theory, Zuko's absence for the first eighteen years of my life should mean nothing to me. Nevertheless, I couldn't shake the feeling that on top of the betrayal of Aang, Zuko had failed - not only in his duty towards me, his son, but in some larger way as well.
Aang might have left my mother alone, but Zuko had done no better. His feelings for her were no excuse for how he had betrayed Aang's friendship. But if Zuko had really loved my mother as he claimed, I thought, he wouldn't have abandoned her to raise his bastard on her own, as if neither of us mattered once he'd gotten what he wanted from her. Whatever he had felt, it was his actions that mattered to me - and now that I knew the truth of what had happened, I didn't think my initial assessment had been that far off the mark.
And in a matter of hours, the rest of the world would be able to make the same judgement for themselves.
I spent most of the next day with Izumi, holed up in my room and going over the protocol for my official presentation at court that afternoon. As the Fire Lord's recognized son, my position would be fairly high-status, though I would not technically be considered a member of the royal family. I would also be expected to make an official show of deference to Izumi as the Fire Lord's heir, to allay any fears about Zuko trying to circumvent the laws of succession in my favor.
"So, you know," Izumi said casually after explaining all this. "Last chance if you want to make a play for the crown."
The old joke seemed in poor taste after the events of the previous day, and I didn't respond to it.
Eventually a servant came to help me dress for the impending event, and Izumi left to get ready herself. It was awkward for me - I hadn't needed anyone's help getting dressed since I was a small child, but the heavy crimson robes would have been a struggle to get into myself. How it had ever become the fashion in a tropical climate like the Fire Nation to wear so many layers I couldn't begin to explain. I thought longingly of the blue silk getup Sokka had dressed me in for the summit, which now seemed simple by comparison. But showing up dressed like that to be presented as the Fire Lord's son would certainly have been a faux pas.
All too soon, I found myself tugging at my high collar, the gold embroidery chafing against my neck, as I stood in one of the dark little alcoves off the throne room. On the other side of the red curtain that separated the rooms, I could hear the convened courtiers milling about, talking in hushed tones - no doubt about me, and the shocking announcement the Fire Lord had made that day. But silence fell over the crowd, indicating Zuko and Izumi had entered and were taking their places on the dias. That was my cue.
I drew the curtain aside, and stepped into the brightly-lit throne room. Everyone stared at me. Of course they stared, and of course I had known they were going to, but it still hit me like cold water thrown in my face. These were the most loyal members of Zuko's court, who would accept my new position because the Fire Lord had told them to. But only because the Fire Lord had told them to.
I strode forward, head held high with a confidence I didn't really feel. The crowd fell back to allow me clear passage to the dias, where Zuko was waiting. I knelt before the throne and pronounced the oath I had practiced that morning, swearing my loyalty to the Fire Lord, and to Izumi as his heir. When I had finished, I looked up and met Zuko's eye.
His face was impassive, a stern mask he maintained in front of the nobles. A Fire Lord could not afford to show any hint of weakness. "We accept your oath," he said, loud enough for all gathered to hear. "Now stand, my son, and greet the court."
And that was it. I stood and turned to face the crowd again, who now knew me officially, as the whole world would from then on, as Zuko's son. As the nobles came forward in ones and twos to exchange stiff formal greetings with me, it was clear that they were no more pleased about this fact than I was.
