CHAPTER XIV

Retributive Justice

Waijao City

The endless apologies that had flooded from practically every mouth within Governor Jin's palace had grown from reasonable concern that Aria was perfectly fine with accepting, to a level of dogged obligatory worship that she considered forbidding anyone else from speaking her name. Abuse of her station had never settled well within her conscience, but if it spared her from acknowledging one more high-class nobleman's endless sorrow, she'd be more than willing to accept such a tradeoff. Times like these were when she appreciated someone like Valla at her side more than any other, since she knew when to forgo pleasantries and read the damn room.

In this case, the whole fucking city.

Aria had been subjected to the initial ire from Fire Nation citizens who thought a bastard little girl was the worst affront to the royal court since a woman had been allowed to be Fire Lord, but that had been nothing up against the bloodlust she had felt from the citizens of Waijao. Every single one of those people who had tried to break down the shields between them and her had wanted nothing more than to skin her alive, layer by layer, until her screams had been choked away by her own blood. So willing were they to accept whatever punishment her well-armed guards had dealt to them, if only that wish could be granted.

She'd never even been to this city, hell she'd never even heard about it until a few weeks ago when Kazo had pointed it out on their map. Despite that, the entire populace hadn't even heard her speak before they rampaged through their own streets to dislodge her head from her body. The fact that she hadn't even been given a chance to acknowledge and potentially settle their grievances made her feel like an irredeemable plague upon the people of this city, and if they hated her so much, then maybe she should just leave them be.

Never before had she wanted so desperately to run…run as far away as she could from this wretched place, and she hadn't even considered the mental breakdown she'd had once she was within the palace gates. She was supposed to be stronger than that; stronger than a rabid teenager losing all matters of maturity.

Now she was in the palace's guest room, hiding behind a locked door after demanding she be left alone to recover. Quickly did she realize that being alone would only leave her prey to her destructive, erratic mind. She needed someone to speak to, someone to tell her how to deal with the reality of her presence in the eyes of others. She needed the Fire Lord.

She needed her father.

When the door opened, she nearly burst into tears at the granting of her wish, only to see it was Beloq who had broken her seclusion.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, carrying a sack of assorted trinkets over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him. "Been looking all over for you! Not sure why no one would tell me where you were, hell it was a pain in the ass just to get them to let me in! Thanks for your help with that, by the way."

Aria's disappointment only compounded as she realized he had no idea what had happened to her. The damn fool had probably been so busy running through the streets of the city to notice the violence.

"Check out all these parts I scrummaged. Totally ripped off some old geezer who thought I was a tribal savage. I swear, pulling the uncivilized card always works on these elitist dipshits," he sprawled off, and revealed the arrayed scraps of metal parts and used mechanisms from inside his sack. "With all this, I'll finally be able to add the finishing touches to the water ski I was working on!"

Aria said nothing, in fact she couldn't even muster enough energy to look him in the eye.

"I uh…thought you'd be more excited about this, honestly," he noted, measurable dismay working its way into his tone, before being washed over by his enthusiasm once more. "Sorry I didn't get you anything. Can't really afford a gift for a Fire Nation Princess on a mechanic's wages."

Eventually he seemed to notice she didn't have anything to say to him, and however impersonal she meant the gesture to be, the message didn't reach him.

"There's some good food out there though! Tell you what, I'll take you there. I'll even buy your meal, if that's what makes up for me running off as soon as we docked."

He's such an oblivious mongrel.

The more he spoke, the more frustrated she became. She'd specifically asked to be alone for a while, and the selfish bastard didn't even have the courtesy to grant her that request. More than ever she needed a friend, and instead she'd been given a gloating nuisance.

"Look…okay, I'm sorry," he knelt before her, trying to meet her gaze. "I didn't know part shopping interested you so much—"

Before she even noticed, her hand whipped forward and smacked him across the cheek, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. Beloq recoiled away from her, and held the afflicted skin with an expression stunned into place.

She was far too angry for the thought of apology to cross her mind. "Did you see the mob?" she asked, her words finding space between each huff of adrenaline she tried to wrangle back under control. "Did you hear the screams?"

Now it was his turn to say nothing, and his inaction only infuriated her.

"Answer me!" she shouted, her voice ringing from every wall that enclosed them. "Did you see them try to kill me?!"

His chin shivered as his stiff throat tried to work out the words he wished to speak. "A-Aria…I don't…I don't even know what you're talking about."

"I noticed!" she blared. "That's your fucking problem. Always thinking about what Beloq wants. Always thinking the world is a little bubble where nothing can go wrong; just another engine you can tinker with at your leisure!"

"Fuck you!" Beloq spat back, lurching forward. "What am I, your little water tribe servant? I trusted you could take care of yourself!"

"Oh, how nice of you," she mocked. "I'll remember that the next time a hundred people rush to take my head!"

"I'm not a fighter! What was I supposed to do?"

"Not run away like a fucking coward!"

"Ah, does that make you feel good, Your Highness? Ragging on non-benders for their inability to bring forth a wildfire to save you?"

"That has nothing to do with this!"

In an instant, Beloq grabbed ahold of one of the metal parts and slammed it against the floor, unleashing a shriek of splintering wood under the impact point.

"I thought you were different from all the other aristocratic assholes who had plundered my people's wealth," he said, a true bitterness rumbling at the back of his throat. "I was wrong. We're all expendable to you, just as the common folk have always been to those in power."

Collecting the parts back into his sack, he rose to his feet in an angry pace.

"Maybe try beating down the populace with your troops. That ought to make you feel better about yourself," he hissed, before slamming the door behind him and leaving her alone once again.

So…Beloq had known all about what she had experienced, and had probably come here trying to cheer her up, or at least get her to stop thinking about it. Instead, she'd assaulted him, and probably alienated the only friend she had left in this spirit-forsaken city.

Only tears seemed to be what she had left to give.

Ba Sing Se

Azula should've known better than to think being released from her bonds by Long Feng would be anything of the sort, as the constant beatings handed out by his men were beginning to add up their toll on her. Twenty years ago she would've disintegrated anyone who ever dared to touch her, but after so long in captivity, her muscles had withered away in such a fashion that her firebending was a mere fraction of what it used to be. The blue was still present, but the size and ferocity didn't quite scare the cowled agents who continued to violate her body every chance they could. Beating after beating. Bruise after bruise. Cut after cut. In such a state, there was only one way to fight back.

Smile.

Elementary tormentors only wanted to see their victim beg for mercy, and always thought the best way to achieve that was through pain. Blunt force such as that was reliable against the weak-willed, but pain dulled over time as the body was damaged, and it was so predictable. Sometimes the threat of pain was far more effective, but more than anything was the hope that the tormented would be released by their captor. A gentle touch or a soothing word would be enough to convince one that maybe, just maybe, they'd see the light of day again, and to have that hope destroyed…that was usually enough to break a person to their core.

Unfortunately for Long Feng, Azula didn't hope.

She knew she would see the light of day again.

So she let them have the flesh of a Fire Nation Princess, and she could see the disappointment in their gaze as she managed to enjoy it just as much as they did. Her hatred would be the blanket for her ruin, hatred they would feel in due time.

As for more surface-level web-spinning, Long Feng's plan to reestablish his hold on Ba Sing Se was still out of her reach, and to that she gave him credit. Initially she wondered what insanity had overtaken him to crawl back to his betrayer for help, but it was clear that he never intended to use her as anything more than a means to an end. Her avenues to outmaneuver him were so narrow that not even she had managed to take advantage of them, and the constant disparagement she had to endure at the hands of his soldiers was becoming less and less bearable.

Even so, she steeled herself with the iron will she had used to keep her alive after her brother had stolen the throne from her, and rags to cover her had become the only sustenance necessary to fuel her need for revenge. Zuko, however, could wait, as there were enemies in much closer proximity that deserved her attention for now.

So could, evidently, the rags.

"Headmaster wants you dressed," another faceless, cowled tool spoke through their mask and all-encompassing straw hat.

Azula fondled the fabric between her index finger and thumb, internally feeling distaste for the roughness of Earth Kingdom material. Their obsession with the grit of stone could only be determined as masochistic, and even she understood the need for even the small comforts on occasion. She'd abandoned those long ago, but she'd be lying to herself if she believed such desires had fled her heart.

Perhaps the dullness of the fabric was there to suggest her existence as such.

She smiled. "The strong men I know have respect for women when they undress."

"You are what the headmaster says you are," they retorted. "Perhaps in time he will grant you such titles once your service is complete."

The title…of course they weren't referring to her old claim to the Fire Nation, but to her title as a woman.

As a person.

"Very well," Azula felt a surge of careless defiance grip her heart, and with two deft hands, exposed herself before them. As her garments dropped to the dirt, she made a pantomime towards her new clothing, but stopped midway. Neither of the two tools moved after her skin kissed the air around her, their bodies completely still, so much so that not even the drapes of their robes shifted in their presence.

Her smile grew wider, and with a spin of her heel, she settled in to the straw chair she had been provided for her stay underneath Ba Sing Se.

"You know, it's punishable by death to leer at a member of the Fire Nation royal family," she noted, letting her head rest against her knuckles. "What is it in the Earth Kingdom? Public flogging?"

Still, neither of them moved from their positions on each side of her door, and she could feel her growing theory begin to take shape.

"The last one of your friends who spoke to me took it upon themselves to beat me senseless, earthbend my arms to the ground, and proceeded to engage in acts very unbecoming of a headmaster's aide," she recalled, and then presented her wrists to the air around her. "Is this some other ploy to achieve a similar result? If so, I'd like to save time by getting right to it."

The ground beneath her feet rumbled and snaked around her ankles, and within moments she was yanked forward, until her body slammed parallel to the dirt below. Blood seeped onto her tongue from sharp stings where her teeth had bit in, and her jaw managed to save her nose by taking the brunt of the blow. She grunted, redirecting that pain into the dark cauldron of her hatred, and covered its churn as best she could.

"How romantic," she grimaced dryly, before her back caved with the force of a boot atop it, and that rough fabric was fitted against her body. Bound by their bending, her struggles were only met with more strikes, and the slight euphoria of defiance drained her face of her smile as it faded.

Had people truly changed so much after her captivity? She would've thought her brazen action would've flustered them enough to take advantage of their moment of weakness, and perhaps gain a valuable tool she could use down the line.

Maybe her edge had been lost, or her deprivation at the hands of her jailer had sapped her of the beauty she used to display.

Or perhaps time was responsible for such a thing…but time wasn't an enemy even she was capable of challenging, so it was an irrelevant detail.

Channeling her anger, she bathed it in her will to be free before setting it ablaze, and shoved that raw energy into her fingertips. They sparkled, charged with an electrical current that built towards the threshold she remembered from her childhood, one in which the amount had been plenty to mortally wound the Avatar himself.

With the uncontrollable fury she had contained, she could hardly recognize when it finally lashed out. The entire room turned a blinding white, and the crash of lightning blared so loud that her hearing turned to a dull ring. Smells of burning furniture flooded her senses, but in the chaos, she felt her ankles roll free from the earth below.

Time to kill.

Rolling to her feet, she leapt into a kick that unleashed a torrent of fire upon the startled guards, engulfing their robes in all-consuming flames that screamed from her feet until she landed once more. Flesh charred as their screams in panic amplified against her recovering ears, and in the tight space, she lunged forward with a backwards thrust of her fists that sent them both careening through her door with white-hot flames in her wake, and landed in a rolling heap into the hallway. Somersaulting back onto her feet, she broke off into a run that was as fast as her legs had carried her in a length of time she could hardly comprehend. The stale air rushed against her in a cooling torrent, one that filled her with the wonder of a child who had discovered the outdoors, and drew an almost maniacal laugh that she couldn't help but unleash. Another guard turned in surprise at her presence, only to be cooked alive by a solar flare, and their screams only quickened the pace of her laughter.

Freedom…freedom to hear someone else suffer for a change.

"Azula!" someone shouted from high above as she entered a foyer, her extremities ignited into an eternal flicker of flame. "You idiot! There's no esc—" Their words were silenced by a lightning bolt that missed its target, but did plenty to drop them to their knees with its display.

No escape. She wasn't trying to escape.

This was a lesson.

"Long Feng doesn't have enough followers to waste containing me," Azula shouted, the echoes of her laughter fading with each word. "That's three I've just taken from him. Let him know it will be more the next time he decides to defile my dignity!"

The guard shivered above, clearly without the domineering resolve she'd seen from their colleagues since she'd first become their guest, a quality she'd never experienced from the Dai Li she had employed. She hadn't been bluffing about Long Feng being strapped for resources, but perhaps he was worse off than her most wishful estimates.

Azula chuckled. Once again he'd made the mistake of underestimating her.

"I see you have your strength back," his voice sounded from the ruins of her last victim. "Although was it necessary to incinerate my men in the process?"

Azula cooed, snapping her fingers into a blue lick of flame. "Perhaps you should've taught them respect," she turned, only to see his expression wasn't as angered as she'd hoped. "Would you have spared your tormentor?"

Of course he would. So much so, in fact, he'd been the one who rescued her.

He ignored her leading question, and instead offered her a smile of his own. "Perhaps I gave them too much freedom, a mistake I won't make again."

Azula rumbled out a snicker that would shiver an elephant koi. "You're smart enough to know the risks, Long Feng. Perhaps it's time you told me why you set me free?"

Long Feng shrugged. "You tell me, Princess. Why didn't I leave you to rot in your cell, free to be tortured at the usurper's leisure? After all, it's what you subjected me to once I'd served out my use."

She scoffed. "Torture? I don't even know what that word means."

It didn't have a meaning. All it served as was the motivation for getting her hands on her jailer, to which she would ensure Nikuya would suffer a death not even her father would've been able to stomach.

"Good," Long Feng said. "It would be best if you relieved yourself of whatever miniscule conscience you had left."

Azula mocked surprise. "But what if I decided to leave?"

"You wouldn't make it two blocks before Nikuya's Qianfeng dragged you right back to the cell I found you in."

As she suspected. Despite her newfound freedom, all she'd done was enlarge her cage, and Long Feng had known that as soon as they arrived in Ba Sing Se.

He was her only way out, and quite literally her only ally left.

A master stroke, one she only had respect for.

"My words still stand," she pointed towards the scorch mark she had left near one of his followers above. "Any more mistreatment will be dealt with accordingly."

"I doubt anyone else would be so brazen," Long Feng conceded, to which she knew he had no choice. Like it or not, he needed her just as much as she did, shorthanded as he was. "But you will do as I say, when I say it. Convincing me that cutting my losses isn't in my best interest should be in yours. Am I clear?"

Azula smiled. She'd make herself so invaluable to him, cutting his losses would seem unthinkable.

And he would be hers.

"As the moon spirit herself," she agreed.

Waijao City

"This city cannot sustain any more of this treasonous nonsense!" One of the Governor's silk-lavish advisors shouted incredulously over the table, and had to redirect their attention to Jin's current seat instead of the large, throne-like cushion that she now occupied. It was Fire Nation tradition for the regional lord to give way to any member of the royal family, as Aria was no doubt aware of, but had hoped would be forgone in this case. Evidently, she found no such luck, and the sheer size of the chair made it impossible for her to properly rest her arms on the designated rests, as they were too far apart. Certainly whoever had designed it was more concerned with the image than the function, although Aria felt that making her look small was probably an unintended side effect.

Or maybe it was because Jin was a whole foot taller than she was.

"We need stricter curfews, as well as stricter punishments. Violators should be subject to doubled imprisonment sentences, and those who attack our men should be met with the same lethal force," another tacked on to his argument.

"You wish to fill our streets with blood?!"

"They are already flooded!"

"This is no time to be squeamish! Waijao City stands as one of the final bastions against the Divine Empress to the north. We can't let a mob of filthy animals tear it down! The Fire Lord would lose all respect for us!"

The shouting only continued, and each time Aria felt like she had a retort prepared, they had already moved on to the next round of grandstanding. None of them had even explained to her what the people were asking for, in fact she was quite certain that none of them had cared to even find out. Their solutions seemed to seesaw between apathy and increased violence, and in her mind, neither of those would achieve much at all except make the situation worse.

Even so, she had no idea what she was supposed to do. With the violence she'd been subjected to upon arrival, all she'd wanted to do was run away, but without Waijao City as a fallback option should her mission to Chin go sour, Aria could never make it home safe. Yet, if she left the confines of the palace, she would likely be flayed alive by the rabid mob calling for her head. Perhaps if she approved of temporary curfews, she could reason with the more lenient elements…but no, the curfews would only entice radicals to violate them, which would only lead to more violence.

So what? The bastards tried to kill her, and she was more than willing to defend herself. Who wouldn't?

Maybe try beating down the populace with your troops. That ought to make you feel better about yourself.

Feel better? No. Feeling better wasn't the point, and that was certainly something Beloq had missed. Who was he to say she couldn't protect herself from a violent mob who had never seen her face? Was she supposed to let them kill her? Was she supposed to cave in to their demands because that's what made them feel better about themselves?

Aria bit into her tongue. All of these arguments were childish; the ones in her head as well as the ones being flung across the table. She needed to think bigger, but to do that she needed more information, and she needed it from sources she could trust. Unfortunately, her options were limited, as Jin's advisors seemed more inclined to save their own skin or beat down dissent until tongues were severed. Jin himself was more of a wild card, but Aria trusted people like him even less than those who made their motives obvious. Beloq had at least made his opinion known, but there was no way he would offer her any help after what she'd done to him.

She shook her head. Another problem for another time. For now, her ears were starting to bleed.

Slamming her boot to the ground, she raised the earth below them just enough to shift their chairs, but not damage the foundation below. Their surprise closed their mouths shut, and after a moment, they finally realized what she'd done.

"We're wasting time," she declared. "What demands have they made, Governor?"

Jin looked half relieved that the shouting had ceased, but the other half of him suggested he didn't have much of an answer to her question, or at least not one he was enthusiastic about.

"Um…freedom from occupation, departure of our fleet…" he trailed off, unable to look her in the eye. "Death to the Princess."

Aria winced. "I see…and with Nikuya's army a few weeks away at least, we can't afford those first two. As for the third, well…"

"We would never let them kill you, Princess!" one shouted, only for her to fix them with a tired glare.

"I'm very confident of that," she deadpanned, letting them wonder if she was being sarcastic or sincere. "Are there any other concessions we can make?"

This time the table seemed more reluctant to blurt out, but she could see the incredulity among the war hawk advocates at her suggestion. Unfortunately they seemed to outnumber the more level-headed ones, and part of her wondered if her father knew about the demographics of his colonial governments. For an initiative predicated on rolling back their occupational forces, this didn't seem like the proper group to execute that mandate.

Had her father been sloppy? Or was all of that a lie, and he had no plans to pull their armies and fleets from the areas brutalized by her grandfather, and his before him?

One thing was clear. Waijao City wanted the Fire Nation gone…unless the less radical elements were the silent majority…

"We have nothing left to give…" Jin admitted. "Other than quartering of soldiers—"

Aria's eyes widened. "Quartering? And you wonder why they're upset? If I had to bed and feed a complete stranger, especially one who marches my streets at night, I think I'd want to riot as well."

"We thought it might be useful for public relations," Jin admitted. "And would save us on logistics…"

"I don't care. It's done," Aria waved. "Consider it my first command, and perhaps we can earn some good graces with the less involved population."

"Your Highness, we can't afford to keep our armies in tip condition with the limited resources we have," the Governor argued, who seemed to be the only left with any willingness to speak to her. "Our barracks aren't large enough—"

"This is a flashpoint in the war against the Divine Empress. The Fire Lord will understand what needs to be done, and after I explain our current situation, he can give us a proper course of action," Aria rose from her chair, prompting all others to follow suit. "I will prepare a messenger hawk with a black ribbon…and my seal."

None of them were going to argue with direct orders from their Fire Lord, and perhaps Zuko could give her the guidance she so badly needed.

"I expect the quartering to end by sunrise. Let's prepare tents and camps for our displaced soldiers in the outskirts. Other than that, protect our emplacements from violence, but limit casualties as best you can. We don't need to press this city any harder."

A collective bow was given to her by the assembly, and she took that chance to leave as quickly as she could.

Aria was never much of a writer, in fact during most of her studies her instructors would find that she spent more time doodling than taking notes, but were surprised to also find that her quiz scores were still top of the line. Her calligraphy was beautiful as a result, but whether it meant anything concrete was always a toss-up.

Feelings were never her strong suit.

Still, this was a political message, so perhaps the personal aspect should be dropped entirely, even if it was addressed to her father. There was no need to tell him how terrified she was that she'd been thrown into command of a city rife with revolutionary fervor, or how she'd berated and assaulted the closest friend she'd had through her tumultuous journey across the sea. A man like Zuko, who'd dealt with ordeals she could only dream of all on his own, would certainly have the right words to say in return to her…

It was useless trying to deny it. She'd left the Fire Nation in such a rush to help Elana that she hadn't been able to say goodbye to Izumi, and once again months began to separate their visits. By the time she saw her again, the girl would probably be a grown woman already…if she ever saw her again.

Aria might die here.

If that truly was a reality, then shouldn't she make sure she got everything off her chest? Should she beg her father to tell her who her mother had been? Should she tell Katara that she'd filled that void for her? Should she tell Izumi that she would always be her little sister, even if they only shared half of their blood?

So much to tell…and certainly too much for a messenger hawk to deliver.

"You've been staring for over a half-hour—,"

"Valla!" Aria jerked, nearly dumping the cup of ink that had been steaming beside her hand. "You need to stop sneaking up on me."

Emerging from the dark corner of her room, the hooded woman paced towards the draped window, the only source of meek natural light among the sea of candles Aria had lit. Through it one could see the glowing sprawl of the city below, surrounding the mound that the palace had been built upon.

"Apologies, Your Highness, but it's my nature to stay quiet," she admitted. "My brother used to call me a ghost — invisible to sight, and invisible to minds."

Aria winced with internal discomfort. "I can relate to the latter at least."

"No," Valla shook her head. "You had a father who loved you. Mine saw me as…well…" she paused, pulling her hood back to reveal her brown hair tightly braided into a compact mirrored loop. "…he didn't."

Air rushed through Aria's nose in a sigh. "I'm not really in the mood for neglect olympics."

"Yes, you seem very intent on ignoring the plights of others," Valla's words abruptly whipped from her mouth, and a scent of fear tingled Aria's heart at the sight of the woman's eyes fixed upon her with their icy glare. Only moments later did Valla recognize her outburst, and bowed her head in embarrassment. "Please, forgive me, Your Highness."

"Valla," Aria said, shaking off her surprise. "I told you to speak plainly to me."

"It's easy to say," she spoke quickly once again, and this time gave up on controlling herself. "It's easy for the powerful to tell the weak to be strong. They already are. Just be like me, they say, while ignoring the reality of the oppressive world we live in."

Aria narrowed her eyes. "Valla, Ozai is dead—,"

"Are you really so naïve to think that one dead tyrant can undo the sins of one hundred years?!" Valla roared, her words unchained, and posture glowing with strength. "Ozai is dead. So are the Iniquois, the Hardaq, the Geraqu, all the peaceful villages that were erased from our world after every new Fire Nation monarch added more red paint to a map of the South Pole.

"I cannot speak plainly to you, Your Highness. If I did, then I would be out there with that mob…trying to take your head."

A tear managed to show itself underneath Valla's eye, but she bent it away with a flick of her brow. Aria had no words to give her comfort…and honestly had no words to give. She never imagined her retainer would feel so strongly about what they had witnessed take place in this city, and in hindsight, she certainly should have.

"You…you didn't choose to serve the Fire Nation…did you?" Aria asked, almost as if she was afraid of the answer.

Hesitation seized the muscles in Valla's neck, but eventually she shook her head. "I was sold as tribute to the Fire Nation, so my family could receive my wages. We were starving…and my father decided I was one extra mouth to feed too many."

Aria felt a pang of regret at her earlier suggestion that their family situations had been remotely similar.

"You may think your father ruling the Fire Nation has changed it overnight…but to the people of the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom…it's all the same. The red and black flag still waves above their heads, and their memories cannot be erased."

The Princess met her gaze head on. "I don't want their memories to be erased. I just…" she trailed off, her mind running off into an infinite void where no answers could even be glimpsed as mere pinpoints of light. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt."

It was the weak answer, and she knew it. People were already hurt, and there were still more to come as the drums of retribution continued to thump through the air. Waijao City wouldn't be the last to feel the taste of change against their tongues, the smell of revenge flooding their nostrils until all they saw was a future in which the Fire Nation never tightened its fist again.

Zuko couldn't fix this, and she wasn't sure she could either…but maybe…if she was bold enough…

Aria's hand clenched around the parchment, crumpling it into a mass, and proceeded to light it ablaze in her palm.

"Forget the Fire Nation," Aria declared, and reached for her cloak. "It's me they want."

"Your Highness!" Valla blurted, sounding alarmed. "I didn't mean for my words—,"

"I was ignorant before," Aria cut her off, fastening her garments and marching towards the door. "It's about time I educated myself."