Chapter 25

It was early morning. Her breath puffed out small misty clouds in front of her as she concentrated. The guards were in the hallway as they usually were while the room was being frozen. Azula couldn't help thinking how stupid they were for initiating and following that rule, especially after Kai had installed carpet and padding on the walls. Yes, it was freezing, but it was more tolerable than it had been when every surface was coated in ice. Did they not realize that time alone in her cell had allowed her to become intimately familiar with every inch of it?

It had been another five days since her discovery of the cracked hinges. The room was cooled. The bars were coated in frost. The new burn on her forearm tingled, but in her gut Azula knew it was the last one. This was the last cooling session. The stage was set: in the next twenty-four hours, she would either be walking under the morning sun or squished under more of Zuko's restrictions.

She inhaled, calm despite the importance of what had to be done. But then, she was always cool under pressure. She'd been under immense pressure her entire life, this would be no different. It was simply another test that she would certainly pass.

Azula walked up to the bars, any trace of a limp vanished. She kept her leg bandaged at all times, hoping that with continuous applications of the ointment, the scars would not be so vivid. So far, the pale pink zigzags remained, but extra medicinal attention wouldn't hurt. Other than its less than perfect appearance, her leg was back to normal. She could put her full weight on it and it held up well even under some of the more difficult forms she'd practiced.

Her appetite was fine too. The months of eating better had paid off considerably. Azula had put on a little more weight and built up some of the muscle definition she'd lost by being completely inactive her first few years here. She could tell that she had more energy now than previously, and that excited her.

There was just one thing she was still uncertain about. She was positive she could break the hinges herself, even if the drastic temperature change from frozen metal to white hot lightning somehow couldn't, but she wasn't quite sure the door would stay upright. She needed everything in the room to appear as normal as possible when the morning shift guards came in to replace the night one. Even those idiots would notice if the door to her room was off its hinges. No, she needed something to secure it, but just what that thing was eluded her.

For now, Azula had decided to do something uncharacteristic: she would assess the situation as it came about, not having a specific plan to follow. It unnerved her a bit. Quite a bit. Uncertainty was never a good thing, especially when it came into play during an escape attempt. She exhaled and refocused her attention on the door in front of her.

One, two, and four. She aimed her two outstretched fingers at the third hinge down, the only one that lacked any visible damage. A faint cracking sound exploded in her ears, but again, the guards did not come running. The small bolt of lightning hit the hinge directly and the charges spread quickly over the frosted metal. The intense and abrupt temperature change had opened up a tiny fissure on the surface.

Azula merely bit her cheek in response. Again, she performed the motions to gather lightning in her hands, and launched several small bolts at all four hinges this time. At this point, she didn't have time to waste. The power source cooling the room had been shut off, and throughout the day, the temperature would rise and the guards would take up their posts again around late afternoon.

One, two, three, four. Each one has them. The princess strode up to the door and poked at the heated metal. It still sparked, but the electricity dissipated quickly. She ran her fingers along each imperfection, applying pressure. When the hinge she was currently examining shifted suddenly, Azula withdrew her hand and finally allowed herself a grin. With a properly aimed kick, getting out of the cell would be easy. Managing to walk out of the building unnoticed, on the other hand, was another thing.

She stepped back to the middle of her room and breathed deeply, settling on the floor to take up her daily meditation. It had helped a bit with the hallucinations and nightmares. She hadn't had either in a few days, which left her with a pleasantly light feeling. With her mind fully occupied on breaking out of here, she was not concerned that her father or mother would make an unannounced appearance.

Azula spent the better portion of two hours sitting straight backed on the floor. Her mind was blissfully free of the people that usually clogged it up. Zuko, Ty Lee, her mother. And to a lesser extent, her father, Mai, and that water peasant. She relaxed, visualizing herself standing in the sun, breathing fresh air, and freely bending.

A tingle ran down her spine at the thought.

Azula continued to sit for another few minutes before standing and stretching out. She would need to be limber and prepared for any encounters with guards outside of the building. She went through a few challenging forms, pushing herself to the limits of her flexibility without actually spinning or doing flips. One form called for a brief handstand, so Azula walked closer to the side wall of her room and rolled up into one, leaning her heels against the wall for extra support.

Her eyes settled on a piece of paper that had been swept under her bed. She flipped down and grabbed it. It was Ty Lee's painting.

She looked at it for all of two seconds before sliding it back under her bed. I don't need to be distracted. Days ago, Azula had decided to quash whatever annoying feelings she had for the woman. Interacting and thinking about Ty Lee only brought confusion and confliction. She'll leave in the end. It's not worth pursuing.

Azula spent the remainder of the morning stretching, thinking, and tracing the cracks on the hinges. Eventually, the frost on the bars melted away and the one of the day shift guards reentered the room.

She sat on her bed and studied him for a long time. The way his boots were tucked into his pants. The plates of armor never overlapping, always a section of underlying cloth separating them. The helmet that covered everything but his eyes. His belt positioned slightly off center. The bands that cinched his sleeves at the elbow. The black bands…

The man shifted uncomfortably under her strong gaze.

Requesting a light dinner, Azula nibbled on rice, some dark grained bread, and tea. She slid the tray back underneath the bars once she had finished and perched on her bed. The night guard would enter in about an hour and then it was a waiting game.