... I don't like the comics, so I'm disregarding them throughout and using my own headcanons— also, big warning for marital rape and general Ozai unpleasantness here.
There is no love and no honor at their wedding, just a hasty attempt to try to salvage a nightmare of a situation; Ursa forces herself to smile and smile at the crowd and fears they can see the shame stirring in her belly. She is becoming a princess, and all she can think about is the sour smirk on the Fire Lord's face as he made a decree he would not have subjected his eldest son or Prince Lu Ten to; she will not be spirited away to raise a royal bastard on some quiet estate, and perhaps that is the worst punishment he could have devised for them.
Ozai does not even smile once. She can't begin to imagine what the expression would look like on him.
Later that night, when they are alone in their bedchamber, there is no pretense of blood on a sheet; instead, Ozai backhands her into the door the second it closes behind them, and she tastes it as it falls from her lip and down her chin, like biting into a ripe peach. His grip on her arms is much too firm to escape, smears her henna and replaces it with bruises that the maids will have to cover with lead paint. When he finally lets go, his anger sated, her entire body feels singed, between her legs raw like a fresh burn.
"You've ruined my life— but maybe with your Avatar heritage, the child will end up a powerful bender, more powerful than my brother's." He pauses as he yanks his pants back up; her dress, made of the finest silks, is torn beyond repair. "That's the only reason I haven't knocked it out of you.