Chapter 10: I'll Pretend I Don't Know

The masked woman, bathed in abundant moonlight, blinked at him in confusion as the breathless warrior cocked his head to the side following his outburst, grinning at her with absolute delight. "Sorry, that was loud, wasn't it?" As excited as he was, he was quite nervous, partly caught in an out-of-this-world kind of feeling after finally running into the one person he'd been so curious about the past few weeks. He tried to step into the room to partake in his curiosity, but he suddenly tripped on an unnoticed step and yelped his way forward in horror. He grabbed hold of the door before he could fall on top of the startled woman, who leaned back against the wall, wide-eyed, one arm wrapped around the idols and the other gripping the counter behind her. He was about to apologize but quickly lost his balance. His grip on the ice slipped and caused him to topple down to the ground, earning a gasp in response.

"Sorry, sorry!" He scrambled to get himself together. "I'm sorry, I didn't really see the step there and the—oww," his efforts to get up failed as he bumped his head against a cupboard. He landed back on his bottom, silently grumbling to himself as he rubbed his head. Smooth today, aren't we?

"I am so, so sorry, I just...I didn't get enough sleep, you see, and…uhm…" He trailed off as he saw her outstretched palm waiting for him, the idols now sitting on the countertop.

"Are you alright?"

A strange tingle surged through him, making him suddenly feel relaxed, maybe even a little euphoric at the sound of her voice. He blinked and nodded, feeling warm all of a sudden. "Uh...y-yes, thank you...t-that's okay, I got it—"

"It's okay, let me help you."

While trying to fight off his embarrassment, he took her hand, and he was rather surprised to see how light her complexion was for a tribeswoman. A snowy tan, so incredibly soft and smooth like a flower born from milk.

"You seemed to have hit your head quite hard," she noted. "I have healing abilities. If you'd like me to examine your head, I will be happy to do so."

"..."

"Sir? Excuse me?"

"Huh? Oh, it's fine, I'm okay..."

"Are you sure? It won't take long at all."

He didn't answer right away, repeatedly distracted. He swore it was those eyes of hers that were drawing him in like magnets and somehow making him feel lightheaded. Since he couldn't bring himself to protest, she led him to a small chair in the corner. With hooded eyelids, he glanced up at her as she ran her fingers gently over his head and maneuvered her way around the hairs in his wolf tail, taking great care to not mess it up.

"You're quite strong," she remarked, and he didn't have to see the rest of her face to know that she was smiling with every word she spoke. "I don't see anything to be worried about. How are you feeling? You're not in pain, are you?"

Realizing that he was staring at her rather unabashedly, he snapped out of his trance. "Oh, no, I'm good…thank you, ma'am, I..." he trailed off, fully aware that he was repeating his responses and highly unsure of what exactly to say next. What was wrong with him? He never felt like this around any woman before, never felt the nervousness of tripping over his words. It's safe to say that he hadn't run into a woman like her before, either; could it be possible for someone to be so warm by voice alone?

"S-Sorry about that, Princess, ma'am," and then he got down on his knees and sprawled forward in a bow, catching her off guard and sending her a few steps back. "I'm honored to finally meet you, Your Highness."

"Sir, please don't bow, I'm not—"

"What you've done for the South is remarkable, and I...we won't ever forget your help."

"You must be mistaken, I'm not the princess—"

"Hey, don't you worry, I completely understand!" he burst with empathy, sitting up but immediately lowering his voice when it echoed loudly throughout the chamber. "I-I mean...it must have taken a lot for you to get past the security secretly."

"Secretly? But I—"

"I know it's annoying and all, and frankly, I'd be annoyed, too, to be restricted like that. But it's okay, you can trust me! I won't tell anyone that you're here—"

"I'm really not who you think I am, sir. There's been a misunderstanding. I'm not the princess."

A pause settled in as he gawked at her, unable to register her words in his daze. Not the princess? "You're not...?"

"No, I'm the temple servant."

But how could this woman not be the princess? The white robes, the pleasant air about her that Ivaneq kept stressing every time Sokka prodded him to give away some kind of information about her. There was also the fact that it was extremely rare if not downright impossible to run into a tribeswoman who was past marrying age but didn't have a betrothal necklace at her throat, especially in a tradition-driven place like the North. Not everyone was like him and Katara, right? "You're not the princess...but...why?"

"Why?" the woman clutched the idols close to her chest. "Because the Spirits willed it that way, I suppose."

Slowly coming down from his daze, he shook his head, rubbing his temple to shake away any lingering effects of his tiredness. "Sorry, sorry, that's a stupid question, wasn't it?"

"Not at all," she laughed, but it wasn't in a mocking tone as he'd expected or heard from tribesfolk all throughout his life. Rather, she seemed to have been amused by the question. "The question why has puzzled philosophers for several millennia. I bet we all ask ourselves this at some point, right? Why we are or aren't a certain way?"

It still made no sense to him why she couldn't be the princess when she seemed to resemble a lot of what he fantasized the princess to be like based off of others' descriptions. Gentle, pleasant, radiant, most likely the opposite of him in many ways. But his confusion had reached a pause because she was laughing, and her laughter flowed smoothly like rippling water, and it was making him feel good inside. "I appreciate that, but I know it's still not one of my smartest moments. Today's been like that; a whole series of accidents thanks to the universe."

"The universe?"

"The universe and I are kind of in a love-mostly hate relationship. I guess today's a bit worse since I'm living out my karma to the fullest."

"Aww," she chuckled out of both amusement and pity. "I'm sure things will get better with a little sleep."

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, not realizing that his grin had widened and his chest had begun to leap. Goosebumps trailed across his skin, and a strange drumming filled his chest, but the fragrance of moonflowers and cardamom—the exact fragrance that lined every word in the princess's letter to him as well as her handwritten documents outlining the protocol for the South's revival— calmed him greatly, tempting to widen the smile on his face.

"You must not be from around here. Were you travelling with the Southern royal family by any chance, Mr...?"

It was only then that Sokka realized that he'd discarded his badge of royalty long before, so there was no way of anyone figuring out that he was actually royalty. He also realized that he had been blabbering all this time but hadn't properly introduced himself. But for some reason, he didn't feel like introducing himself as the Southern prince. In just a few minutes, he was attracted to the point of wanting to be relatable to this woman who owned such a sweet laugh and a warm ambience about her. He didn't want to establish a clear wall of difference. Besides, if there really was a slim chance somewhere or somehow that she really was the princess like his innermost instinct was screaming that she was— how can she not be?— then it would level the playing field. "W-Wang. My name's... Wang. Wang Fire. And yes, I was travelling with them. I...I'm actually a friend and personal guard of the prince."

"Wang Fire," she enunciated. "That's a very unique name. Are your wife and children here, too?"

"I'm not married."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I just kind of assumed..."

"Nah, it's fine," he shrugged. "People don't expect to run into unmarried twenty three year-olds in the Water Tribe of all places."

"Well that makes us two of a kind, I suppose," she chuckled, bowing. "Anyhow, it's an honor to meet someone who's very close to the royal family. And wow, a friend of Prince Sokka. We've heard many things about him."

"Really?"

"All good things, of course. And also that he happens to be a harsh critic of the North."

His eyes widened. Did the entire North Pole know about this? "How did you know that he...?"

"I work in the palace some days. It's something I've heard among the officials. They're trying to make it as pleasant for him as possible." She chuckled nervously. "Of course, there's no need for the prince to feel bad. It's very understandable considering all that happened. I hope we can be redeemed by doing our best to please him and make his stay here comfortable."

"Well that's not really necessary," he squeaked, perhaps with more sincerity than necessary for a "friend and guard" of the prince. "Actually, he's loosened up a lot. The North has been going through so much, and we weren't aware of it." And the princess… He sighed, reminded of those articles and the chaos written all over the crew members' faces. "It's a big misunderstanding on my...er, the prince's part. He regrets it and wants to leave it behind—"

"I thought you were circumambulating, son," interrupted a third voice. The prince turned around to see the high priestess standing by the doorway.

"I didn't expect to find you here," she said, stepping in. "Since only religious authorities are allowed back here." The older woman then noted the distracted look on the prince's face and smiled knowingly before turning to the woman. "The workers are here, dear, if you would like to speak with them about the repairs. Also, I have a few errands to run. Would you be willing to perform the protection ritual for the visiting family afterwards?"

"Yes, Mother Osha." The woman bowed to the priestess and then to Sokka, her smile recognizable despite hidden beneath her face veil. "It's delightful meeting you. Please keep away from the eastern chamber." And as she made her way out of the room with the idols, Sokka's gaze trailed behind her, and his senses kept reveling in the scent of moonflowers and spice. He couldn't follow her out, though, thanks to the priestess's look, and he felt compelled to explain himself.

"I heard the princess wears white robes and face veils, so I thought..."

"Maybe so, but the caretaker's white robes are ceremonial, not exactly royal," Priestess Osha explained. "She sometimes wears them when she's on temple premises. And also, don't be mistaken by the face veils worn by the servant women and the female workers in general. It's required of them if they work anywhere in or near the palace and the inner division. I understand you would have no way of knowing this. If you were from around here, you would've recognized those robes as part of her uniform."

"Oh, I see."

"You seem to be a bit too eager to see Her Highness."

A blush crept over his cheeks. "Not at all, I was just...I'm grateful for her help, that's all. Would be nice if I can say it to her face."

"I don't think that's possible. Chief Arnook is adamant about making sure she does not leave the palace premises or have anyone personally contact her for any reason. It's highly unlikely that anyone will have a chance to speak with her, let alone see her face or expect her to come see them. And if by some miracle she does come and see them, she's not allowed to without lots of backup."

Disappointment flared up in him, but he tried not to show it.

"So don't bow to every woman you see thinking she's the princess. It's not at all possible that she is."

His answer came in the form of a flushed face.

Maybe he'd hit his noggin a little too hard, or maybe it was the lack of sleep and constant curiosity regarding the princess. His eagerness to see her must have also played into his projecting of the very little qualities he knew of her onto people who may potentially resemble her. Maybe his nose was betraying him, too; he'd been caught up in that same fragrance every time he read her letter, after all, and it was totally possible for his sleep-deprived brain to think he was still smelling that fragrance.

At the same time, though, he knew he wasn't completely going crazy. Even if his nose and mind were playing tricks on him, they hadn't been doing so for the past hour when they toured the city. Why now all of a sudden?

Come on, now, think straight. Maybe there's a popular moonflower spice perfume or something out there that the princess and the caretaker must both use… Although a temple servant probably wouldn't share the same exact perfume with the princess given the fact that their statuses are on opposing ends of the spectrum...

But anyway.

"It took you this long to go around once?" chimed in Katara's voice as she began to approach him. "What, did you fall asleep on the wall or something?"

"I got lost, okay? There was another room back there," he said. "And also, don't go around blabbering that we're the royal family in front of people."

"Why not? This is the first time we've ever felt royal to begin with."

True, very true. "But let's just keep it to ourselves, alright? We're in a temple after all; best if we stopped flaunting for once."

"Since when did you start to care about being humble in a temple?" she teased. "You must have some kind of motive up your sleeve."

"There's no motive, okay? We've had enough special treatment, and frankly it's annoying. Tell Mom and Dad, too."

"Speaking of Mom and Dad, they're planning on making a donation to the temple," Katara said. "They think it'll be good if you're the one to sign the papers."

"Why me?"

"I don't know, maybe writing your name down as the donor will help you get married sooner."

"Nonsense," the prince huffed. "Write your name down if you want, but if you ask me, wasting even a single copper piece on this place is useless. You're not getting anything from me."

"How can you say that? The Spirits have been gracious to us, and you're here standing around with zero gratitude whatsoever."

"My gratitude goes out to the princess, an actual concrete human being, mind you."

The glare on Katara's face then morphed into a smile. Ah, I see.

It was an unconscious endeavor on his part, and the reason-loving part of him denied it to be anything more than curiosity and "strict detective work" because he believed— no, he knew deep down— that she had to be the princess, so he continued his circumambulations (now amounting to more than three) for the sake of seeing the temple caretaker again. She was sitting on a raised platform near the high altar and was setting the idols in their respective space on the pedestal. Next to her was a basket of white flowers: a combination of arctic jasmines, white water lilies, and moonflowers.

Moonflowers. Well there you have it, that's where the fragrance is coming form.

But she didn't have a basket of flowers before. And the cardamom—

Don't overthink it.

Don't underthink it.

She turned a few hidden latches on the two idols, which allowed each of them to split into two parts and turn on their respective hinges. Each half found its companion in the other idol's corresponding half, and they fit together like a perfect puzzle piece, forming two connected but opposite-facing statues of the androgynous Tui-La being, one half La's darkness and the other Tui's light. She turned another set of latches to keep the combined idols locked in place, and she went on placing small garlands around the idols and decorating the space around them with the white flowers. Afterwards, she walked through the hallways and corridors, lighting the tiny ice lanterns that lined the walls. She passed by him occasionally, answering his smile with her hidden one before disappearing into another chamber. From then on, his gaze followed the presence of everything that was white, expecting it to be her, but he didn't see her again until she stepped back out minutes later, lugging a basket behind her: a very large basket filled with mouth-watering pastries. He broke out of his rounds to help.

"Can I help?"

"It's alright, I got it."

"It won't take long at all, ma'am," he smiled, echoing her words from earlier, and he set the basket next to the altar. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"That's all, thank you so much."

As he went back to his rounds, she began chanting softly in a foreign tongue, likely in Angkaran or Nagaran, the two languages of the ancient Water Tribe scriptures. Kya and Hakoda, who were lost in conversation with Ivaneq, paused and immediately became drawn to the woman and her chanting. Chieftess Kya was especially elated; she had always dreamed of learning either Angkaran or Nagaran if not both so that she could read the scriptures for herself instead of relying on the versions translated into vernacular languages. She was also caught off guard by how young the caretaker seemed despite her face being covered and even more so by the fact that she didn't have a marital necklace, so the chieftess was the first to approach the woman. Still keeping some distance from the raised platform, Kya and Hakoda, escorted by the still-anxious Zhi and Ivaneq, refrained from introducing themselves to avoid interrupting the woman's rituals until she stopped her chanting and noticed them, bowing in greeting. Kya was quick to jump into introduction and conversation and might have given away their positions as royalty if it wasn't for Katara, who stepped in and whispered something in her ear. Kya then took off her royalty badge before speaking with the woman; the chieftess referred to herself as hailing from the Southern Water Tribe instead of name and position.

"Can you speak Angkaran, dear?" she asked the woman. "Or Nagaran? Or did you learn the chants only?"

"I'm fluent in both languages, ma'am," the woman replied.

"So you can read and write them as well?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"My goodness, you are very blessed, child. And you're so young for performing rituals and representing the Mother Goddess! It usually takes many years to learn the liturgical arts."

A wandering Kohana soon joined the group; the child stared at the basket of pastries longingly— maybe even as longingly as Sokka might have been if he wasn't so caught up in his observations— but they were likely offerings and were off-limits until they were served to the spirits.

"Dad, I'm hungry," the boy tugged at Hakoda's sleeve. "Daaaadd…"

"Just a little while, pup, we'll have breakfast."

"No, I'm hungry nooooowww!"

"He's just looking for an excuse to chomp on those cakes," Katara said. Hakoda laughed and tickled his younger son to distract him, and when that failed to take his mind off of the pastries, the Southern chief suggested that they explore the rest of the temple.

While the rest of his family went around viewing the other chambers along with Ivaneq, Sokka found himself craving her warm company again, so he approached her, posing as if he had a genuine question.

"So, uh...the head priestess lady said that I'd need to have a ritual done, and…" he trailed off as she waited patiently for him to continue, blinking those breathtaking eyes of hers. What do I say? "And...oh, I can't remember which day, though. Do you happen to have an idea when…?"

"Do you know which ritual?"

"Well, my parents told her something about my birth chart."

"Depending on the specific issue, birth chart related rituals are usually performed during the full moon or the Birth Moon."

"Birth Moon?"

"It's Northern slang for the new moon."

"Interesting," he said. "Do you have a term for the full moon?"

"Yes. Lady Moon."

"Is there a meaning behind those terms?"

"Oh yeah, there's an extensive mythology behind it. I'm sure you wouldn't be interested."

He blinked. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I get that you're not exactly religious," she said, and to his surprise, she in no way sounded like she was disapproving of his lack of belief given her own religiosity. It was quite liberating. "I can see whether someone's circumambulations are pious or pressured. Yours seem to belong to the second category. It also seems to me that you're not too concerned with the ritual. You must be asking for your family members, yes?"

"Impressive," he grinned. "But I'd still like to hear more. If you're okay with revealing some of your secrets to a nonbeliever, that is."

She laughed. "Well, it's just that many legends say that Tui is 'born' on new moon days and 'matures' on full moon days. And I guess I'd be offending a vast majority of priests out there when I say this, but given our matchmaking culture, we're inclined to associate the Goddess with fertility metaphors, aren't we? Sometimes we don't see the bigger picture, the possibility for other realities."

And he beamed, for once having run into someone of greater intellect than the shamans and priests down South. "Other realities. I like the sound of that."

He didn't have long to milk the conversation, though, since a trio of tribesmen, likely the workers she'd been waiting to speak with, caught her attention. Sokka trailed behind them, maintaining some distance while she led them to a blocked-off chamber to the east; the area was definitely in need of renovation, and it appeared as if the entire chamber was about to cave in. A very large bell hung down from the ceiling, obviously in need of repair with the cracks near its rim and around the ceiling that held it in place. The workers carefully stepped in and surveyed the area. In the meantime, the woman wrote something on a sheet of parchment and subsequently attached the sign to the wall of the icy archway.

Caution: area under construction. Please do not cross beyond this point.

"Hey, wait a minute. The calligraphy..." Sokka hid himself in the shadows and pulled out the princess's letter. He sieved through it and observed the writing before diverting his attention back to the sign; both appeared to be identical in style. He then caught hold of a word that appeared in both writing samples: please. Sure enough, the words in both samples were exact matches.

She had to be the one who wrote this letter. She had to be the princess.

Or can it be that she was a scribe for the princess?

But Ivaneq said—

"Prince Sokka? What are you doing here?"

Sokka jumped and saw Zhi approaching him. The prince slipped the letter back into his pocket. "Shhh!"

"Is everything okay, sir?"

"Yeah, yeah." He then noted that the crewman had a disturbed look on his face, which was quickly masked with a superficial smile. "What happened, Brother Zhi?"

"Nothing, sir. I was just wondering where you'd been. Everyone was looking for you."

The prince raised his eyebrows, unconvinced. "You're not telling me something."

"It's nothing, sir, I assure you—"

"Either you'll tell me right now or I'm going to have to find out on my own. One way or another, I will know what's up." Sokka then softened his tone and led Zhi a few feet away. "Please, tell me. Anything about the princess? There's no danger, right?"

Zhi sighed. "You've already learned too much about our situation here, Your Highness."

"And I still have a lot more to learn. Tell me, what is it?"

"Well...it's just that…day by day, Her Highness is becoming more and more adamant about her decisions...especially the ones regarding her safety."

"What do you mean?"

The Northerner did his best to overcome his reluctance and admitted, "A princess without a backbone... That's what they're saying."

"Wait, what now?

"They're saying she's too soft. Unfit to rule."

"And why is that?" Sokka glared.

"Because it's practically established that she can't be assertive when necessary. Apparently, Chief Arnook appointed a few people to regularly taste the princess's food before it can be offered to her. Just to make sure her meals are safe for her to eat. But she dismissed them even before they had a chance to do their job."

Anxiety bubbled within the Southern warrior. He looked at the woman, who was now speaking with the workers. "Do you really think there's a chance that she could be...poisoned?" he asked.

"The palace is filled with Khasiq's supporters. What's to say that she won't be poisoned? There's no guarantee." Zhi shuddered. "And yet, she insists that she doesn't need such safety measures. And she's still refusing a bodyguard. All of her reasons are revolving around what-ifs. 'What if this person gets hurt protecting me? What if that person gets hurt protecting me? I won't be the cause of another's suffering.' That's all she's thinking about."

"She's not in a position to think like that," Sokka said worriedly. "Her life is in danger. Doesn't she see that?"

"But she feels like she's deliberately putting the lives of those people in danger. All she can think about is how these people are easily susceptible to harm and how other people are relying on them to make a living."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we are not able to do anything if we don't have the full amount paid," Sokka heard the workers say to the caretaker. "The full amount is one thousand gold pieces. So far, seven hundred gold pieces have been extracted from your funds."

"Please, you have to understand, " she said. "The temple has so many visitors every day. We have playschool starting early in the mornings. The assistant priestesses are constantly training. The elderly often visit for meditations and spiritual practices. Expecting women attend for pregnancy rituals. These are only a few examples, and you can imagine how it is during holy days and festivals."

"The princess has been highly generous," a worker said. "She's offering three thousand gold pieces starting this upcoming year for each temple. Surely you can wait until the end of the year to repair the chamber. It's only a few more months."

"But if we don't do something about this really soon, who knows what will happen. You've seen how the chamber is. People will get hurt, and they have families of their own who are relying on them."

The prince widened his eyes at the striking similarities between hers and the princess's rhetoric. And she says she's not the princess.

"It also doesn't help that Her Highness hasn't selected a war minister for her Council yet, sir," Zhi went on, bringing Sokka back down to earth. "And this is greatly affecting her authoritative image. It's been three weeks since she began selecting the members of her Council, and so far, she's chosen a minister for security and defense, but the defense cabinet is not complete until a war minister is chosen. There's even a rumor floating around that she doesn't plan on choosing a war minister or even collaborating with the current war minister in Khasiq's council. You can imagine how concerning this is for the many people who are starting to side with her politically. Defense of her allies is guaranteed, but her security is highly threatened; what's the point in supporting a leader who is an easy target?"

"So does she plan on just ignoring the threats at this point?" Sokka's chest pounded. "What's her response to the internal conflicts?"

"Many of the officials have been asking her about her take on Khasiq and his team, but she hasn't given a response in the offensive," Zhi said. "She insists that she will sort out these conflicts in other ways, obviously ways that are nonviolent. Conversations, compromises, tactics...how far will all of that get her? Khasiq is not a man to be having a tea party with."

Sokka's frown deepened.

"The implications of having a soft-hearted leader are not always good," the Northerner added. "She won't stand a chance against her internal aggressors if she clings to nonviolence and tactics. That's not what politics is about. But there's just nothing we can say to a woman who's unwilling to let even the Spirits be her shield. She'd rather face the consequences on her own than ever dare to drag anyone into danger."

The Southern warrior's agitation increased by the second as he kept his gaze glued to the woman. "Zhi, didn't you say that the princess does not have scribes to reproduce her writing?"

The crewman, not understanding what the question had to do with their conversation and also wary of the prince's keen interest in the caretaker, answered, "Yes, sir, I did. The princess did not appoint scribes."

In a matter of minutes, all conversations came to a pause, and the masked woman rang one of the main temple bells that hung from the ceiling in the main sanctum. The chimes echoed through the chamber and garnered everyone's attention. She then began chanting again and stepped onto the platform, lighting a very large torch in the center with a smaller torch. She also lit some incense, signalling the beginning of the ritual. Whenever possible, Ivaneq picked up on the very few words he knew in the Nagaran chants and related their meanings to the best of his ability to the Southern couple. Some of the meanings nearly brought Kya to tears. "Beautiful, just beautiful," she would say. Hakoda, too, was mesmerized by the prayers, and he didn't stress on calling Sokka over to them; knowing the prince, he would only go off on his classic rant of how rituals were nothing but tools that priests and shamans capitalized on and scammed the public with; they deemed it was best if they called him for his part of the ceremony instead of having him linger any longer than he was required. The Southern Chief was pleasantly surprised, however, to see his son join them on his own volition and manage to stay quiet despite observing what he normally deemed to be "parts of a nonsense profession." In fact, it wasn't normal at all for Sokka to act so mellow and, dare he say, shy. Especially in a religious setting.

"Must I remind you to do this every time?" Kya sighed as she made her older son bring his palms together in prayer fashion, just in time for the woman to invoke the Spirits by briefly transitioning into the common tongue.

"In the name of Tui and La. Merciful upholders of civilization."

While everyone else repeated the chant, Sokka recognized it to be the exact phrase that appeared in the princess's Southern Revival plan documents, and his mind began to reconnect the complex dots he'd connected before, weaving justifications for this woman being the princess herself who came to see them and welcome them.

Don't flatter yourself too much, the skeptical part of him said weakly. It's a very common prayer. You've heard it before, too, haven't you?

The writings match, the prayers match, the generosities match. There's no reason why she's not her.

The woman turned around and held her arms out as she looked at Kohana, her eyes lit with serenity. Kya nudged the little boy to go up to her, and he took small steps forward, but ultimately, he was shy and remained close to his mother.

"Go on, now, sweetie," Kya urged her younger son. "She's like Tui. You love Tui, don't you?"

The boy nodded and watched the woman with all the fascination and wonder a child could muster, occasionally shifting his gaze to the basket of cakes. He was delighted when the "Tui" woman reached into the basket and took out a wrapped pastry, holding it out to him to coax him forward.

"It's alright," Hakoda stepped in. "I'm guessing these cakes have to be offered to the Spirits, first."

"Sir, if the Spirits are present within pieces of stone, surely they are present in your son as well. I have already made the offering out to them."

Kohana made his way up front, taking the cake and eyeing it through the clear wrapper as the woman went back to her gentle chanting. She dipped her hand in the sanctified water and sprinkled some on him, making him giggle. Though normally turned off by rituals, Sokka couldn't help smiling this time.

"Can you do it again?" Kohana asked, immediately being shushed by his parents, but the woman simply chuckled and sprinkled water on him again, making him laugh. As the chanting went on, the little prince tore the wrapper open and indulged in his treat, smearing the icing over his coat and earning stern looks from his parents. When the boy was relaxed enough, the caretaker brought him into her arms and lifted him up.

"Kohana, you're messing up her robes," Kya said, nearly shrieking as her younger son held onto the woman's face veil and smeared it with cake, but the woman didn't seem to mind. She carried the boy over to a wall on the left side of the altar space, facing the symbol of Yin and Yang that was etched high up on the wall. She guided Kohana's hand to where he touched the symbol, and she chanted a few more mantras, keeping his tiny hand there.

"Are you Tui?" the boy asked her eventually, earning more commands from his parents to be quiet. The woman welcomed the question, though, and shook her head.

"No, sweetie, but I can talk to her."

"You can?"

"Mhm."

"Can you ask her to give me another cake? No wait, actually I want two."

Hakoda and Kya shook their heads in disapproval, but the woman laughed and set the boy down, granting his wish and even giving him an extra. She then placed her hand on top of his head, softly uttering a blessing. "Suhanna. Nimmena ugara igarianiti, iqaliatune nunnuna khamusiti."

"I've never heard of that prayer before," Hakoda pointed out, an observation seconded by his wife. "Is it specific to the North, Brother Ivaneq?"

"This is the first time I'm hearing it. I've never heard Priestess Osha say that blessing before," Ivaneq said. "Zhi, you studied some Nagaran when you were younger. Do you have any idea what it means?"

"I need to hear it again. Maybe I can pick out some words."

When Kohana's turn was over, Ivaneq, taking care not to give away their royal status under grounds of humility in the sacred space, explained that the couple wanted all of their children to undergo the protection ritual. The woman glanced at the Southern siblings and then at her hands. "Oh no."

"What's wrong?" Kya asked.

"I'm not sure if I have the strength to pick them up. Whatever will I do?"

Laughs reverberated through the temple as Katara smilingly made her way up and also received a cake. Upon earning compliments over her soft skin, the Southern princess raved to the woman about her special seaweed lotion. Sokka shook his head, trying to seem annoyed, but he was too drawn towards the woman and her warmth— the woman he knew had to absolutely be the princess— to really care about anything else at the moment. He watched her place her hand over Katara's head and repeat the foreign blessing from before. "Suhanna. Nimmena ugara igarianiti, iqaliatune nunnuna khamusiti."

"Something about good fortunes and giving something in return," Zhi said. "How did it go again? Nimmena ugara…"

Knowing he was up next, Sokka stepped forward without being told for once. He breathed in the moonflower fragrance, his smile widening.

"What's with you sniffing things around like a dog?" Katara said.

Sokka gave his sister a flustered look, feeling the hot air trap him in place. "A wolf, mind you!" he squeaked.

"Riiighhht, like a wolf. My bad."

The embarrassed warrior turned to the woman, who was trying to hold back her laughter.

"Please excuse their antics," Hakoda said. "They're both several years past marrying age and yet still act like children."

"I don't mind it at all," the woman said. "It's actually very endearing to watch these two interact. It must be wonderful to have a sibling." She then reached into the pastry basket and pulled out two cakes, placing them in the prince's hands.

"Oh...thanks, but one cake is enough for me..."

"No harm done," she said. "I kind of saw you staring at the cakes when you were helping me out earlier."

Sokka felt his embarrassment wash away and his chest inflate. He grinned as she sprinkled the holy water over him, and he willingly followed her to the wall holding the Yin-Yang symbol.

"I know you're not religious," she said to him. "If at any point you feel uncomfortable, just let me know, and we can stop the ritual."

"That's very kind of you, but I'm sure it won't be a problem," he smiled.

"I got it now," Zhi said in a low voice. "'Suhanna. Nimmena ugara igarianiti, iqaliatune nunnuna khamusiti. In the name of the Spirits. May you take my good fortunes and give your dangers in return.' It must be a mantra that redirects negative energy. I've never heard of it, though."

The prince thawed significantly at that. "She'd rather face the consequences on her own than ever dare to drag anyone into danger."

Before the woman could say the mantra, Sokka asked, "Actually, can we skip this step?"

Kya and Hakoda were preoccupied by anxiety and disappointment. It made no sense for Sokka to skip the blessing, which they felt was the most crucial part of the whole ritual. Then again, their son was acting a little strangely today for some reason, and they may never know the specifics as to why. Perhaps the pinnacle of their shock came when he rushed outside to their gondola, dodged the guards, and fetched what he had stored in his compartment. He ran back into the pagoda and jogged over to the woman.

"So, uh...Ivaneq just told me that the prince plans to donate something to the temple."

The woman blinked in disbelief. "The prince? Prince Sokka?"

"Yeah," he felt his chest inflating again with the way she said his name. "Eight hundred gold pieces."

She widened her eyes. "Eight hundred what? Mr. Wang, are you sure? Does he sincerely want to donate? I heard he's not religious at all, either."

"He had a feeling that you...I mean, your princess is rather religious," he said knowingly, earning another surprised look. "He wanted to be able to help out in some way, so he kind of entrusted me with the money to use for religious purposes." He gave her the bag that he got from his compartment. "What better way to help out than to help cover the costs for the eastern chamber's renovation? It's a really nice pagoda, besides."

She took a look at the vulnerable eastern chamber before turning back to him. "That's extremely sweet of him...but we only need three hundred gold pieces to—"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind," he insisted.

"But...but…"

Sokka sighed. "This isn't the prince's effort to show off in anyway, ma'am."

"I wasn't thinking of it like that, sir."

"But I still want you to know. Everything he has is basically what the princess gave him, directly or indirectly. These gold pieces right here, he only received them since Her Highness was able to get word out to Ba Sing Se sooner about our natural resources. So naturally he wants to show his gratitude, and he really regrets underestimating the North. So don't think of this as the prince's donation, per se. Think of it as the princess's generosity that's being recycled."

She didn't say anything for a moment, coughing and looking away. "I don't think we'll ever be able to thank you for this, Mr. Wang Fire. For choosing to donate here, I mean. This is really…I..."

He smiled a smile that seemed to reach both ends of the earth. "If you really want to thank me, maybe you can start speaking to me in the informal tone? We are friends now, aren't we?"

Before she could answer, frantic footsteps interrupted their conversation. Ivaneq and Zhi came rushing towards Sokka, perturbed looks raiding their faces again. "Sir, I think it's best if we leave as soon as possible."