Chapter 21: Made of Revolution Part 2

Through the smoke that emanated from the small, blazing ritual fire, Priestess Osha's face came into view. Hakoda and Kya, who were seated on the other side of the fire, holding onto the amulets that she had given them, listened to her chants. They were swept away by what they believed was the glow of wisdom that radiated from the older woman. As close as they felt to the presence of the Spirits, they could not help imagining over and over again about how Pakku would've reacted had he been here right now. Well, not that he would've been here, necessarily; he wouldn't have even stepped into a place like this, which strayed so much from tradition.

"I know that you are both terrified to be here," Osha said to them eventually. "Though you seem to have so much trust in me."

"We do have trust in you, Grand Priestess," Kya said, her voice low with humility, "And we will forever be grateful to your temple and your caretaker for looking out for our children."

"And yet, you are scared."

"We are worried about the rift that this visit would cause in our family," Hakoda said. "My father is quite a strict traditionalist, Grand Priestess. He is a man who values prestige and the preservation of our values."

"So is it because I'm a priestess?" she gave a dry, knowing chuckle. "Your Majesties, did you not know that I was a priestess when you first met me and told me about your oldest? Or are you not wanting to concern yourself with people who are affiliated with a contaminated temple?"

Kya and Hakoda were not sure what to say. Lying to a spiritual leader who knew more than what she let on wouldn't serve them any good and would not be an indicator of their gratitude. Then again, the incident along with the weight of "impurity" it carries was a burden to their orthodoxy.

"People like your father would think of that child as a tragic figure burdened by an impure existence and a polluted birth chart. Sympathy is the most they would ever feel for a child who took birth against all odds and severed the purity laws of the tribe." And for a moment, the priestess's look took a dark, defensive turn that was very unlike her calm, knowing nature. "But here at the Moon Temple, we see that incident as a miracle. As the Spirits' blessings for a new era. And I see that child as the Akna. The Mother. The co-progenitor of the New Age." And with that, the priestess, filled with vibrations of divine bliss, dropped a few herbs into the sacred fire. The flames rose up joyously from their offering.

"Is the Akna Tui Herself?" Kya asked, the very question making the Southern leaders feel queasy. It was terrifying enough to imagine Pakku's reaction to them sitting in this very building in the first place, but imagining the temple child to be the very Tui who was promised to the La born as their son? This was not just a matter of impurity but of flipping their entire culture over, almost.

"Do not worry. The Akna does not concern herself with those who are not ready to welcome her. Even if she does, she certainly does not beg for their love."

Her words were sharp and biting. The leaders felt guilt stirring within them. They could not even look her in the eyes.

"You know nothing about the mantra that I chanted just now, do you?" Osha asked, her arms outstretched, her voice booming an Angkaran chant. "Imeli inna khasuro, mimme ulukan imarinnakuut a'La! Shumangik tsi' nasha sukero! Suhanna m'Akna!" And as the fire roared in response to her chant, she expanded on its meaning to the alarmed leaders. "Praise be to the Akna, receiver of La's love and nourishment! May She reign in our hearts and lead us on a path of peace!"

And she added more herbs to the fire, only this time, the flames calmed. "Keep in mind that without the Akna's blessing, your son will never find happiness in his life."

"Don't say that, Grand Priestess, please," Kya begged. "We have no one else to turn to. Please, have mercy."

Osha appeared almost as if entering a meditative state. The wild streak in her gaze had mellowed to her usual knowingness. "Don't be too alarmed by your doubts and repulsion. The circumstances are like that. It is not something you can help entirely. You see, our Akna is compassionate. You might not think highly of her, but she does not withhold her gifts. She has smiled down upon your tribe and has reached out to heal you. As such, she will look favorably on your son."

The fire seemed to agree, flaring for a moment before calming down again.

"You might not open your hearts to our Akna so easily, but you would have to at least open your hearts to your son's bride," Osha said.

So the Akna wasn't Tui? At least, that was what they had to assume, right? "That is why we're here, Mother Osha. We need to know how things are looking for his birth chart right now. You mentioned a full moon ritual..."

Osha nodded. "The legends say that Tui and La periodically take auspicious human births in the Water Tribe and always find each other, and they have done it yet again. Their voices are formed from the cries of the abandoned, and the blood roaring in their veins is the blood of the innocent. In the drama of the universe, Tui and La are the writers, the actors, and the drama itself." She then looked to Kya and Hakoda. "It is with great mercy that La has chosen to be born as your oldest son, and it is not without reason that he is the way he is. The waters are rough if La means to be rough. The rivers flow smoothly if La means to be tranquil."

Osha then reached forward and grabbed the parchment containing diagrams of the Southern prince's birth and briefly studied the predictions of the planetary movements in his horoscope. "Tui and La never fail to do all things together. Likewise, they have not failed to be reborn at the same time, the same exact day in their respective divisions of the country. Their charts are the same, their planets are the same. Their histories are interlocked, and their futures are merged."

"So our son's Tui is out there?" Hope flickered all over their faces. "Is she the princess?"

Osha said nothing of that particular comment, only answering with an ambiguous, "Tui's disguises are beautiful no matter who she may be. Tui's lies are sweet no matter what they are."

Disguises? Lies? "So it's not the princess?"

Osha did not respond, going back to her chanting for a few minutes. Hakoda, in the meantime, found himself getting slightly impatient. "How will we know who Tui is, Great Priestess?"

The priestess only said, "You will know."

An angakkuq-in-training stepped in at that time, carrying with her a small container of red pigment. Osha took the container from her and thanked her with a nod, and the angakkuq stepped back out. The priestess then placed a lid on the container before holding it out to the Southern leaders. "Take this vermillion and mark your son's forehead with it."

Kya and Hakoda looked at her curiously upon taking the container from her.

"If I recall properly from this birth chart, your son should have a small white mark on his chest."

"Yes, yes, he does," Hakoda answered.

"Have him smear this vermillion on his chest over that white spot. This should be done every night."

It was not a practice that was totally random— at least, considering vermillion marked the sacredness of love and marriage in the Water Tribe. Then again, it was something that Sokka would frown upon, or in the very least, laugh at. What on earth would have him resort to this practice so diligently, so religiously?

Osha seemed to have read their minds. "Do not worry. La never misses up on any opportunity, silly or otherwise, to be reunited with Tui, so that is not something you need to worry about. There are, however, three things that you should keep in mind according to what I'm reading in your son's birth chart."

"Three things?"

"What are they?"

"The first is the full moon ritual I mentioned to you before. La he may be, and Tui he may marry, but the Spirits have chosen to become mortals. It is the duty of those who recognize them to bring them together before the sacred fire. That is why a fire ritual must be performed sometime before the marriage."

"Do they have to be engaged or married beforehand?" Hakoda asked.

"No. They just need to sit before the sacred fire for the ritual."

"But are we going to find her by then?"

"The Goddess will come to you," Osha said to them. "But only if you have patience. Tui is mistaken that La is only in the waves far below. It will take her a while to see that he is in the clouds right beside her, that he has crafted himself into a throne for her of her liking."

The priestess's words continued to fly over their heads.

"Secondly, upon marriage, your son will take on his Tui's name as his family name, and she will take on his name as her family name. I'm sure you have been told this before."

"Yes. Our village shaman, Chunta, informed us of this beforehand."

"And last but not least," her tone turned cautious, "From today onwards, there will be a rise of tensions between you and your son."

Kya and Hakoda exchanged worried looks. "Priestess?"

"It is a matter of justice. The Spirits have willed it," she explained. "And I must warn you. Only if your hearts are open will Tui stay; if she is displeased, the Spirits will leave your household."

"Oh, Spirits!" Fear crawled over the Southern chieftess's face. "He wouldn't do that! He would never leave us! He wouldn't! We're his parents!"

"The poor shores might think they have what it takes to control the ocean, but La is the great flood of truth, and no one can stop him. I told you before that your son follows the moon no matter what. Your love for him will not curb his loyalty to her. But you should not worry. As I have said, keep your hearts open, and the prosperity you will experience will be tenfold what you have been blessed with now."

"We're not sure what exactly you are referring to, Mother Osha," Hakoda said truthfully.

"In time, you will, but as of now, the most important thing for you to remember is that our Akna is merciful. " She cast more herbs into the fire, and from the fire emerged a flame in the silhouette of a woman with long, flowing hair, her robes billowing, her hands outstretched and palms up in Tui's iconic gesture of giving. "All fear is obliterated when you are in the hands of mercy."

So much time seemed to have passed, and yet, the Northern princess and the Southern prince basked in each other's presence as if there was no tomorrow. Neither of them ever recalled talking to anyone for so long, and the universe approved of their company given that no one happened to interrupt them or come searching for them. Sokka was especially captivated; the more time he spent with Yue, the more she appeared to take on so many of the qualities of Tui that their country so passionately hailed, that his childhood

Very briefly in the back of his mind flickered the observation that worry would be eating Arnook away, but he did not want this conversation to end. She didn't seem to mention it, either, alluding to how invested she was, too.

They talked about many things, particularly catching up on the plans set up for the South's recuperation before diverting to the situation in the North. Everything that Zhi told him was confirmed by the princess, from the struggles in the social strata to the plight of the lower-class people, particularly the men who sought after certain high-paying jobs— one such sector being security— that demanded their castration.

"Some of my friends are healers," Yue said. "They talk all the time about how painful those procedures must be for those men."

"It's painful just thinking about it," the prince nearly gagged. "Don't the healers have ways they can...I don't know, numb that area?"

"The healers don't get to perform those procedures; only shamans and certain high-ranking kahunas, sometimes even the priests of the Great Temple," she told him. "No numbing substances or sedatives are given. And you know how things are in the tribes. Healing is a woman's job; men are benders, not healers. You can imagine how complicated it gets from there. Procedures without the proper protocol will leave behind possibilities for infection. One wrong strike can prove to be fatal. And once the deal is over, the phalluses are offered to La as sacrifices."

"Eugh! Why would anyone, gods or otherwise, want penises as a sacrifice?!"

"It seems the extremists' version of La does," she sighed, looking nearly sick herself. "I heard that a significant portion of those poor men have died after experiencing lots of blood loss. A majority of them unable to completely heal following their procedures, and very few were actually given the jobs they sought. These men were family breadwinners, widowers, single fathers, even a few old men who needed some kind of job to survive. There were even young men who had wanted to marry and start families of their own but had to give up their dreams because they couldn't feed their parents and siblings. It's cruel, Sokka, and even if someone has the guts to report these kinds of things, the system would both ignore the complains and eliminate the people who reported them."

And if these people were not after the lower-class men, they were after the women. According to what Zhi told him, which she expanded on at length, it had supposedly been a nightmare to be living in the North around twenty years ago. Female infanticide had been prevalent given the brief economic threats that left many families poor, and given the culture's dowry and groom price system, destitute families found their daughters to be burdens and hoped for sons to someday feed the family. Needless to say that child workers— usually boys— were common in Khasiq's wing of the palace. Then, of course, there were Khasiq's adult entertainment clubs that repeatedly needed women supplied to them. The families who actually loved their daughters enough to not kill them learned to not surprised if the said daughters didn't return from their healing classes or the palace premises. Sokka remembered Zhi telling him that it was only with the protests of the Revivalist Mission that increased demand for justice caused a flare of caution to go out among the extreme Nationalists, and since then there had been a wavering time of relative relief, but the pendulum had swung in the other direction again since the advent of imposters like Kinji.

"Khasiq and his idiots are so sick and downright awful," Sokka winced, feeling harsh tugs at his heart. "Don't these perverse bastards have daughters? Sisters, mothers? I'm not saying their mistakes are excused if they don't have a relation like that to draw on, but…You would think that someone who has a sister, for example, would know the feeling of wanting to protect a sister. They would relate...they should relate…I mean, this entire conversation, all I could think about were my mom, my sister, the aunties and sisters back in our tribe. I'd never live with myself if anything bad happened to any of them."

"I know what you mean," Yue said. "But you know, Sokka, there are people out there who feed their daughters and sisters and mothers with the money earned from selling others' daughters, sisters, and mothers. And these perpetrators are not all men."

"How can anyone go to sleep at night after doing these things?"

"Money. Circumstances. Desperation to do something to provide," came the somber response. "Maybe they were pressured into it. Maybe they pressure others into it. Maybe they were indoctrinated into that kind of thinking. But whatever the reason, they lead such hypocritical lives, that's for sure. And sometimes...maybe more often than we know... their loved ones don't even know all the activities that are being committed for them to have something to eat.

She told him about one of her most pivotal discoveries about four years ago: a vast collection of books penned by several revolutionary authors who had addressed social issues of the recent past, which continued to wreak havoc on the tribe. These books— hundreds of short stories, several impactful novels and scrolls previously banned by Khasiq's regime— were found buried underneath the snowy floorboards of the ice-wine cellars near Khasiq's part of the palace. It had taken a tremendous amount of effort for her to go back with the excuse of dusting the cellars, and it took an entire night for her to spirit away the books and lock them away in her cupboards in the forbidden chamber.

"There had been rumors that these works were burned, but they actually weren't."

"You'd think anyone in Khasiq's place wouldn't have taken the risk to leave them intact," Sokka noted, "but hey, can't complain. He's a dumbass as much as he is a jackass."

She barely held back a giggle. "That's not very nice."

"Oh wow, Princess," shaking his head in amusement, "worried about the worst of offenders being offended."

She then told him about the quality and content of these stories that she'd come to love and venerate. She spoke particularly of a short story she once read which discussed exactly what they were talking about.

"It's called My Sweet Girl. Have you read it before?"

Needless to say that under the struggles of economic distress, the people of the South hadn't exactly been cultured citizens, for the most part. There was no time for reading books and such things when even their reading and arithmetic had been rushed in their young ages.

"The protagonist has a very loving, doting father who spends several months looking for her when she gets kidnapped. She ends up getting forced into a brothel, but at the end, she finds out that her own father was a pimp who actually sold women to the nearest village. Karma had caught up to him when his rival decided to target his daughter. The protagonist is eventually rescued by her fiancé, and her father ends up hanging himself in shame." Her voice shook for a moment, but she swallowed the lump in her throat. "It's one out of several moving stories that highlight the plights of the needy and helpless."

Especially stories of women— diverse stories of women of all ages, their struggles and their suffering inflicted by dowries, groom prices, even far-off polygynous lands, imagined as the highly-feared futures of the Water Tribe so long as it failed to respect its women. These stories were of women who were killed, burned, raped, cheated on. Stories of their losses, of how they moved on or attempted to move on, of the role society played in exacerbating or healing their conditions, of messages that these authors were willing to give to the public. Some of the messages overlapped across communities— of women and the poor, for example, that was the subject of works like Aquela.

"Aquela's husband is a poet. He falls in love with a woman who brings out his creativity, and he cheats on his wife with her and starts neglecting his own daughter. Aquela finds comfort in the company of a blacksmith who ends up falling for her. When he promises her that he'll take good care of her and her child, she takes her daughter and runs away with him to start a new life. But the three of them were found and killed by the village leader. The society that didn't punish her husband for cheating on her...that same society didn't hesitate to kill Aquela, who ran away for the sake of her love, respect, and freedom."

It was these kinds of stories, Yue said, that would be eye-opening for the tribe if people had access to them, but Khasiq and his associates were careful fellows, having done everything they could to modify the arts and culture of the tribe to perpetuate their own messages.

"I know education will go a long way in helping this tribe recover," Yue mused. "That's why I really want copies of these books and stories to be made and re-sold. One of my proposals includes a request for building a new schoolhouse for children belonging to all social classes. It will be a place not tainted by politics of any kind, and it will most certainly not be a place that teaches our men to mistreat women."

Shooting through the depths of his admiration for the princess and his imaginations for a revived, lively North under her rule were specks of...not shame, but something of a similar nature. He, too, had fallen prey to the discriminatory attitudes of his conservative family at one point, and although he was lucky enough to be humbled by his travels, he still felt queasy thinking about what many tribesmen were doing by clinging to their outdated ways.

"What's wrong, Prince Sokka?"

"Nothing, it's just...I don't feel right, you know? These idiots are giving us guys a bad name, and...I don't feel...good..."

"The entire male race shouldn't be held accountable for the actions of a few toxic ones. And you of all people shouldn't feel ashamed. You could never become that type of person. I know so. In fact, I have a very strong feeling that you're going to be quite the opposite." She reached for his hand. "Soon enough, you'll be a big part of the change you wish would happen in the world. And on that day, everyone in the country is going to look up to you."

He could feel his heart skipping several beats. He might as well swoon yet again.

"Besides," she smiled, "You've impressed me so much that I've decided that the new schoolhouse curriculum should be just like you."

"A curriculum like me?"

"Oh yes. It will be secular," her grin widened. "People will be free to identify as nonreligious or Nationalist or whichever belief they prefer, but the curriculum will be arranged in a way that no matter how these people identify themselves— Revivalist, Nationalist, or otherwise— they will all need to interact and develop common grounds with each other. Talk about things that do not have to do with politics or religion all the time, like procrastinating for schoolwork, favorite songs, favorite dances, favorite foods. There are so many conversations to be had without bringing the Spirits into them. There are many friendships waiting to be made regardless of what we believe."

He chuckled, feeling some relief ebbing through him. "You know, it's not enough to copy your curriculum off of my disbelief."

"Oh?"

"You gotta let me be with you each step of the way."

"Back to square one, aren't we?" she shook her head. "Look, Prince Sokka, what you're clearly feeling is gratitude. I can understand that."

"Gratitude's only part of it. I care about you, Princess Yue. Everything you're doing, I'm a big fan of," the twinkle in his gaze reaffirmed his truth, "and there's no one else who's as anxious as I am to see you take your rightful place on the throne and shape the North into a better place."

I care about you, Princess Yue. She sighed, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. "You know, part of the reason why I told you so much is because I know you're only going to be here for a couple of weeks before you go back to your duties in the South. I strongly suggest that you simply enjoy your stay and not concern yourself with the situation here because I know you did plenty of research even before this conversation."

"I won't tell a soul," he said earnestly. "I promise. I'll do everything in my power to—"

"You're not understanding what I'm really trying to say here," she eyed him squarely in the face, the torchlight wavering against her stern look. "It's not about you not telling anyone. Well, I'd like that, but… I don't want you attracting certain politicians' attention, especially Khasiq's. I don't need anyone risking their life in being my bodyguard, and I don't need any political leader supporting me so publically. Prince Sokka, I rejected even the White Lotus's recommendations that came through Master Piandao and Fire Lord Iroh. And for what? Because I don't want anyone falling into risks or being dragged into Khasiq's fishing net. What matters to me the most is the safety of our people."

"But can't you see that your people need and love you? What if something happened to y—?"

"We are not loved here, Sokka." The response was simple, sharp, hopeless. "We are only used. The universe knows it. And until I feel like I've done everything I can to try to undo that, I don't want anyone else meddling in this situation. So please, try to understand. The problems in the North are ones I have to face alone. This is the safest way."

"For everyone else, maybe, but not for you."

"'Everyone else' includes your mother and father, your siblings, your tribe. You cannot possibly put them all at risk by supporting me so openly."

"But Princess Yue—"

"Innocent people shouldn't have to be victims of political games," she said, slipping on her royal shoes to indicate that they needed to go. "I have no way out, so it's not like I have a choice. But you and your tribe do. I advise you to not take it lightly."

Arnook might as well have been mistaken for a polar leopard-bat with how quickly he was racing across the throne room once the doors opened. He nearly collapsed from his relief as he saw his adopted daughter step in. Safe, unharmed, and accompanied by the Southern prince, who kept trying to keep close to her. As a bodyguard would. Arnook made a note of this observation but kept it in the back of his mind for now; what the number one priority was for him at this moment was getting her to eat something.

"Bring in all the delicacies!" he ordered the waiting maids as he approached the duo. Judging by the chief's desperation and worry earlier and the wild influx of relief that flooded him now, Sokka expected him to greet his daughter with a bit more emotion, perhaps with a hug or a tender pat on the shoulder or something of that nature. Instead, the man just halted, his perpetually drunk-looking face as expressive as stone.

"Where had you been? I was worried sick!"

"Her Highness was meditating in the Spirit Oasis," Sokka answered.

"For twelve hours?!"

"I fell asleep after a while," Yue explained.

Arnook sighed. "Thank the Spirits..." and he then gestured to the maids, who then set down the various dishes and fit them all into a large tray.

"We need to examine you, Princess," piped up a healer lady who was walking towards them from the corner of the room, accompanied by her assistants. "You look quite frail—"

"Her Highness will be completely fine once she eats," Sokka stepped forward. "What matters the most now is time. The sooner she eats, the better she will feel. I suggest you let her eat in peace."

Arnook immediately agreed with him. "Disperse," the chief told them, and the healers and maids quickly found their way out after looking back at the Southern prince once more. In the privacy of the now-empty throne room, the Northern chief then grabbed a cup of sugared water and handed it to her. "Drink this."

Yue said nothing. She only looked at him, her expression unreadable beneath her face veil.

"Princess," Arnook's voice was shaky. "I have agreed to your conditions, so you must have this."

When Yue still did not make a move to take the water, Sokka took the cup from the chieftain and held it out to her himself. She gave the prince a look before calmly taking the cup from him. Arnook made a note of this, too, but when she still refused to drink, that's when it hit him: she had to keep her face covered and was hesitating to freely take a sip in front of the prince. Of course, the chief would have no way of knowing their hours-long conversations and days-long acquaintance.

"Sokka can be trusted, Princess Yue," Arnook said. "You do not have to follow your protocol around him."

Yue seemed surprised by that. Very surprised, actually. All these years of the chieftain struggling to keep her face hidden from others— even from all of her suitors up until today— and now for the prince of the South to be given the honor of seeing her face. It was not without reason, she knew. She looked from her father to her equally surprised friend before looking down at the floor. She still hesitated for a moment— or at least pretended to hesitate— before pulling down her mask and pulling up the screen of her veil, revealing her face. Sokka fought hard to hold back the warmth that was running up to his face; he lowered his gaze, tracing the tribal designs on his boomerang sheath, gazing at her reflection that greeted him from his pristine sword handle.

"Have this, Yue," Arnook said again. "Quickly."

She still refused to drink the water and looked up at the chieftain expectantly, and although her icy look was aimed for Arnook, Sokka was the one who was most affected by it, even starting to feel faint again. He snapped out of his daze, reminded of the task at hand, and cleared his throat at the chief. "Ahem."

Arnook then reached for the folds of his robes and pulled out many scrolls, placing them on the pelt table next to the princess. He could've done it with a bit more grace, Sokka felt, because it was obvious that the older man was pissed off. "I have signed off on all of your proposals. The schoolhouse, the contract with the publishing companies, everything. You should be happy now."

"The chief also said that you will no longer have to ask him for permission for anything you aspire to do, Your Highness," Sokka told her.

"I did?" And when Sokka shot him a glare, Arnook said, "I mean, yes. I did."

She still looked skeptical, her silence speaking for her, and the chief, likely tired from the five other times he had to pacify her and put an end to her fasting, quickly quit his efforts, his tone turning stern. "Yue, this is getting ridiculous. You are not a child. You know the consequences that come with everything you're demanding, and you're putting me in an impossible position! You know I don't have the option of overruling Khasiq's preferences, and you're still throwing these useless tantrums."

It did not fail to appall Sokka how insensitive Arnook was being at this moment. In what way was any of this "ridiculous" as he said it was? Wanting to better the North was by no means ridiculous. Starving oneself to have their voice be heard is not a useless tantrum. If the chieftain really called himself a father, he wouldn't be standing here lecturing her; he would trying to frantically be feeding her. Not only did he not care about the time being wasted but he also thought this was the perfect time to yell? "Discussions later," he interrupted, holding up the tray. "We should leave Her Highness to her privacy so she can eat."

Yue shook her head, looking down at the icy floor. The man clenched his fists to keep his anger from spiraling. "For your sake, I had managed to convince Khasiq to accept at least some of your proposals, and he only approved the ones that he knows he can undo. This is the truth that we both know, and you starving yourself is not going to change this! Eat, Yue."

"Woah woah, let's keep it calm, shall we?" Sokka stepped in front of the princess protectively, flashing Arnook a stern look. "She's likely feeling uncomfortable here, Chief. Let her eat first."

"She's the one who's refusing!"

"Well maybe if you stop slamming everything down and show a bit of love, maybe she would!"

Yue held up her hand to calm the Southern prince, who had surprised both the princess and the chieftain with his outburst. Sokka stepped back, lowering his look. "Sorry."

Arnook took a deep breath, mellowing a little and turning back to his daughter. "You are wanting to turn the North into a utopia, but that goal is too idealistic."

"Utopias may not be possible, Your Majesty," Yue finally spoke, "but it still does not hurt to dream of changing society to get as close to a utopia as possible."

"You think you have what it takes to turn this tribe into perfection? You think you're that strong?" he asked in a matter-of-fact manner. "What do you have that Khasiq doesn't? For what reason will all these servants and assistants and attendants look up to you than him? Khasiq is able to scare people. He can bribe people. He can do whatever he wants, and if he really wills it, you will be tossed into the streets, and you will not survive a single day there. So stop acting like Lady unless you want to invite trouble."

Stop acting like Lady. Sokka looked at the princess, noting how she didn't waver.

"Khasiq will not rest until he kills the Revivalists' leader, wherever she may be," Arnook said with alarm in his voice. "That woman is driving everyone crazy with all the things she's doing. Just now, a case came up of some woman who reported on Kinji on behalf of a young girl. Kinji's reputation is ruined in just hours. Now Khasiq is running around trying to find her and slice her throat without screaming bloody murder in front of the White Lotus."

Sokka stepped closer to the princess— a move inspired by instinct.

"It's dangerous for you to be following her footsteps at this time," Arnook said, shaking his head. "Don't do this, Yue. Don't become another challenge for him. He will not take it well."

"It's quite unfortunate that my life's purpose is not to please Khasiq. Whatever will I possibly do?"

Annoyance came rushing back to the Northern chief full-fledged. "Well you should do something about it if you want to stay alive! I am a coward, and I can never protect anyone. And everyone knows this!" His hand flew to his forehead and rested there, and he huffed in irritation. "You are a princess, so behave like one. The world is a dangerous place, and you know nothing of it. You're too young."

"Since when have we ever truly been children, Your Majesty? We are only taught to rear children," she said. "Besides, I recall you saying I'm not a child. Do mean that I'm old enough to rear children, but somehow I'm not old enough to make decisions?"

"You want to make decisions, do you? What decisions will you make? Do you know anything about the real world? Have you ever been outside of the Forbidden Chamber? Have you been in the inner ring? Have you been beyond that? It's been barely a month since you were allowed to roam the palace, and that, too, you do it without regard for a bodyguard." He stepped forward, and Sokka took note of how in response, the princess took two steps backward. "Someone who can't go a second without dumping buckets of moonflower perfume on herself can't possibly know about the harsh realities of the world."

As if someone who wastes his life away in drinks and fear does, Sokka wanted to say but held his tongue, directing his glower to the pelts on the ground. If it was uncomfortable for him as a bystander to be standing here and witnessing this, he couldn't imagine how Yue must feel.

"I am not saying this to insult you, my dear. I'm saying this because you don't have the experience. You don't have the power and influence that comes so easily with corruption and injustice. And I don't want you to concern yourself with the things that Khasiq does. Can't you think of how I must be feeling? All this time, I've done nothing but beg Khasiq to ignore your activities. Do you even know half the things I go through to have him spare your life…?"

"It's because she'd been thinking about your situation that she didn't leave the Forbidden Chamber until the crisis at the South, Chief. Sorry, but I have a habit of saying it like it is."

As if one rebellious child wasn't enough. Now his daughter found a kindred spirit in the Southern prince. Arnook said nothing of it in spite of his annoyance; rather, the wheels in his brain started turning. More and more, he felt the universe giving him stronger hints regarding his daughter and the prince of the South.

"Khasiq has arranged for your meeting with a group of suitors tomorrow evening around sunset," Arnook told his daughter, ignoring the remark. "You and I both know that you will not choose from them, but I can't say no to Khasiq. You will not be forced to choose…" he looked briefly at Sokka before turning back to her, "I actually prefer that you don't choose. You just need to be there."

And again, Yue was taken aback. It seemed Arnook had many surprises today.

"You're looking very thin," he said worriedly. "I agreed to your proposals, didn't I? So go eat."

Yue only nodded, a hint of a smile beneath her face veil as she, too, felt her thoughts churning and formulating. "I apologize for taking up so much of your time, Your Majesty, but I do have one last request. Don't worry, it is not ambitious."

Arnook groaned. "What is it now?"

"Within one hour, I'd like the best seamstresses, the best financers and jewellers, the most honest dealers of gold, silver and precious stones to be present at my study. I'd like to put forth some effort into how I look for my suitors tomorrow. So your advisor won't be suspicious—"

"Yes," the request seemed to bring Arnook so much life all of a sudden. "Yes, yes, of course, my dear. Don't you worry, I'll send them your way right now! Just promise me you will eat. You will eat, will you?"

"Yes."

"Thank the Spirits! Sokka, follow her to her room, son. Make sure she eats, will you?"

Sokka blinked, "T-To her room?"

"As her bodyguard, you have permission to go anywhere with her so long as it is for reasonable safety purposes."

"Bodyguard?" Sokka nearly jumped.

"I never agreed to this!" Yue frowned.

"Sokka is your bodyguard, Princess, and this will not change," Arnook said. "Unless if you want to quit your endeavors. This is the only other option I have to protect you, and you are going to honor it." He then turned to the Southern prince. "Sokka, I'd like to speak with you about something. Please come see me afterwards in my study."

Although Yue gave off the vibe of being annoyed, she didn't seem angry when they finally left the throne room. In fact, she might have been expecting this kind of move. She certainly seemed surprised, though. Sokka trailed behind her, carrying the tray of food, but he was tentative in his gait, trying to figure out what it is exactly that she was feeling in this current moment. Of course, it was a difficult task given she had most of her face covered.

"Don't listen to him, Princess. What does he know?"

The princess looked around before pulling down her mask. "You're telling me not to mind the words of my own father?" she asked, amused.

"I say it like it is, Princess Yue. If this comes off as offensive, I'm sorry, but it doesn't matter to me who he is or what his relation to you is. All I know is that he does not know you, and he does not define you."

She gave him a little smile. She was smiling a lot today. Her smiles were genuine, too. Being around the prince of the South had that kind of effect on her, it seemed.

"I won't follow you from here on out if you don't want me to," he said.

"That's too bad. You were about to make history as my only friend to ever set foot in my room."

"So…are you okay with…?"

"It's not my permanent room anyway," she said. "I've only been here for two weeks. Soon, I will be moving to a different room for increased privacy." She nudged him playfully. "Guess I'll be completely vulnerable now that you know my whereabouts. If you really are a serial killer or something and I don't know it yet, you should count yourself lucky the princess herself gave it away."

"Haha," he frowned.

"Oh, come on, Prince Sokka. If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have you follow me all the way here."

"I'm sure that's also why you don't want me as your bodyguard. You know, now that I think about it," he faked a gasp, "Is it because I'm a manly masculine male man?"

"I have nothing against manly masculine male men," she laughed. "It's because you're not me. You'd have to be my reflection or my shadow, in the very least, for you to know my secrets, but you're not any of those things, and neither is anyone else."

Sokka sighed. "Don't worry. If you want me to keep my distance, I will. I won't go around saying I'm your bodyguard. What matters to me is your acceptance. Although... I do think that as your friend— no, best friend— I have the freedom to meet up with you occasionally?"

"You might not go around telling everyone you're my bodyguard, but you're certainly keeping close to me, aren't you?"

"Because I care."

"There are other ways to care, you know. Something like...oh, I don't know, finishing up all of this food so the chief won't be suspicious?"

"Even the almond cake?" he gestured knowingly to the cup in the middle. "For some reason, I thought you favored desserts..."

And after a moment of introspection followed by another minute of making sure no one was around them, she took the cup, answering his grin with her own. "You can finish the rest."

Several minutes later, and Sokka found himself watching the shadows dance on the icy walls as he ate the last of the dishes prepared for her. The moonlight was generous as it spilled into the princess's quarters from the open windows. It was a modest space, similar in layout to their rooms at the estate but not as spacious. Her study connected to her bedroom, both living spaces very sparsely adorned with furniture given that it was a temporary arrangement.

The bedroom had consisted only of a large closet that was obviously too personal for exploration, a bed, a painting on the bedside table— his painting that he gave to her earlier that day— and an open window. As far as her study went, it wasn't as lavish as one would've expected it to be. It was rather empty to one side with nearly all of its furniture concentrated on the other, consisting of a large shelf filled to the brim with books, a tiny worship space consisting of a meditation mat, an incense holder, a small table with several files and scrolls and stationery supplies, and more books in strange-looking Arctic script. Yue was currently seated next to the books, jotting several things down on a sheet of paper in the script resembling the script on those books.

Sokka eventually finished his meal and joined her, peeking over her shoulder at the script curiously. He could recognize a few letters given that Nagaran (and by extension Angkaran) were somewhat related to the Arctic languages in script.

"Sh-Shir gur'a," he enunciated a particular word he recognized. "Doesn't that mean 'prison'?"

"You know Nagaran?"

"Just a few words here and there. My Gramp-Gramp has a copy of a manuscript from an old Nagaran lawbook. Probably written before the vernacular Code was finalized, but it had some commentary in Proto-Arctic. The manuscript was pretty harsh on prisoners…" he squinted his eyes and recognized another few syllables in the script, "Cheyru k'laveen…"

"'Structure of law,'" she translated. "Aveen cheyru k'laveen agara shir gur'a. 'Laws concerning prison organizational structure.'"

"All set to work on fixing the prisons, too, aren't you?" he said. "You know, it's not everyday we hear about leaders who make friends with the prisoners and help their love lives."

"Why not?" she smiled and shrugged.

"Is there a reason why you're writing it in Nagaran?"

"This is how I usually take all of my notes. Nagaran not as recognizable as Angkaran— unless if you have an ancient commentated manuscript sitting in your home, that is," she chuckled, "so it's the best choice."

"Why not write in the vernacular? For practice purposes?"

"Well yes. That and to keep my notes cryptic. In case anyone happens to see them, I don't want them to read them. Since Angkaran and Nagaran are rarely spoken or read by other people in the country…"

"But they'll know that you know these languages. Won't they be suspicious?"

"I can just say it's self-taught. The chief has access to several resources on Nagaran and Angkaran as the chieftain. I could always say he arranged some for me. I had to have something to do in hiding all these years, right?"

"I gotta say, you've got everything planned out carefully."

"I can't afford risks for what I do."

He smiled, impressed. "On that note, you have a plan, don't you?"

"For what?"

"Seamstresses, jewelers, dealers of gold and other valuables. Something tells me it's not for the purpose of pleasing those dweebs that Khasiq arranged." He crossed his arms. "And you have no plans on telling me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"How innocent you are, Princess."

She responded with a smirk that could overthrow empires. "You're not a fan of surprises?"

"We could say that there are some special...I don't know, antioxidants in the vermillion to help keep the skin smooth?" Kya suggested. "He might not look like it, but our boy cares a lot for his skin, I tell you."

"You're right, but I don't know if he would buy this explanation," Hakoda said. "He'll see right through us. He's not that little toddler we used to convince with fairytales and things."

"There has to be some way to get him to smear this on his Tui mark!"

"If only Priestess Osha wasn't so cryptic with her answers."

"Well we need to do whatever we can to make sure Sokka smears some of this on his Tui mark. It will help him find his Tui a lot faster. And to be honest," bouts of excitement added to the bounce in the Southern chieftess's step, "I have a strong feeling that our Tui is the princess! Maybe Mother Osha wasn't trying to give it away so we could figure it out ourselves!"

"And how convenient is it that the plans for her alliance with Lu Ten have been canceled?"

When the Southern leaders stepped into their estate with so much optimism, they saw that Ivaneq was waiting for them in the leisure room. Judging by the look on his face, he was quite distressed and...confused?

"Brother Ivaneq," Kya greeted. "When did you get here? Did we keep you waiting for long?"

The man briefly looked at them before diverting his look to the fire that flickered in the fireplace. The leaders grew concerned and approached him.

"Is something wrong, Brother?" Hakoda asked.

"I don't know, sir," he shook his head. "I'm just so confused and...I don't know if what I heard was right or if there's been a misunderstanding or maybe I don't know the full picture…"

"What did you hear?" Hakoda asked. "Is it something important? Something...something that has to do with the princess, maybe?"

Ivaneq gave them a lost look. "She is not really our princess."

"Here you are," she handed him a few books that he'd asked to borrow from her library of banned works. "Aquela and My Sweet Girl in there. Then there's Disfigured; this one's a short story collection on eunuchs that might be of interest to you. And this one, Holy Transactions, I know you'll really enjoy. It's about a lot of imposters posing as shamans and profiting on superstitions."

"Just the one I need," he grinned. "Thank you, Princess. If only there's something I can give you in return."

"Oh, that's not necessary, I'm happy to…" she trailed off as he handed her a collection of several— and by several, a lot of— papers bound together with string.

"What is all this?" she sieved through the pages, wide-eyed. "Is this the entire Code of Ethics?"

"Yep. Transcribed from memory by yours truly. I had my parents check over it, too, in case I missed anything."

"You transcribed the entire... Sokka, this is around seventy pages, in the very least. How long did it take you?"

"A couple of hours. It's no trouble, really. I thought you'd have a chance to look at it for yourself," he rubbed the back of his neck, "You know, before we discussed it."

"Why would you work this hard? Did you stay up all night working on this or something?

"Not all night, but...a good portion of it. I was gonna give this to you today, but all this happened, so...maybe we can meet up tomorrow and discuss it?"

She smiled at the prince, touched by his sincerity, and she ruffled his hair again in that playful way of hers. "You're really something, Prince Sokka. Three days into your stay here, and you've already become very special to me. I'm really going to miss you when you leave."

"You've become very special to me." He felt like he might faint with joy again. "I won't leave if you don't want me to, Princess."

"Pardon?"

He blinked, not sure what to say after that sudden brainfart. Such things weren't meant to be said aloud, dear universe! "Uh...I-I mean...let's meet again tomorrow, Princess. I'll bring us some new flutes. We need to get started on your lessons."

"I'd love to, but I'm not sure if that's going to be possible," she said disappointedly. "I'll be busy dancing to my suitors' tunes, unfortunately."

"You're not a fan of surprises?"

"The only surprise I can expect tomorrow is the suitors not showing up for some reason."

"What if there's a way I can...I don't know, sabotage the event somehow?"

Sabotage? "You mean you'll get past hundreds of guards— Khasiq's guards— and make something happen?"

"Why not?"

"It's a far-reaching dream, isumataq," she said. "And besides, you wouldn't want people thinking you sabotaged the event to steal me for yourself."

"What if I am trying to steal you for myself?" he beamed.

"Haha," she crossed her arms. "Well don't you worry about such impossible surprises. I'm sure the Spirits will take care of it."

"The Spirits? Please, you can't possibly rely on statues. Your Tui and La only seem to have time for each other."

"It could very well be possible that out of his compassion, the charming La has come to me in your form to free me from prison and feed me my favorite desserts."

"That's the thing with you believers," he joked, "Underestimating the humans and giving credit to the Spirits."

"You wanna know a secret, Sokka?" she said, leaning against the wall. "In this moment, you are La. Extending your hand to help or care for someone with no regard for blind superstition. People like you are behind these Spirit stories that parents tell their children each night. It's people like you that they really dream about."

Sokka felt giddiness overtake him all at once. "You believe that La freed you through me. Can't you believe that La wants to serve you through me?"

"Not again," she groaned. "I'll make a mental note to scare you away with my religiosity. Maybe then you'll let this go."

"It's not just you ladies who have protective instincts, you know," he frowned. "Someone who's socially conscious needs to be aware that there are guys out there who also have protective instincts. You aren't the only nurturers in town."

"I'm telling you to nurture the South, isumataq," she chuckled, "not someone you knew for barely two days. Though that is a good leadership trait, I'd say…"

"Your Highness, why can't you understand that you're special to me, too? T-To all of us, I mean. I want to do what I can to make sure you're not harmed in any way."

"It's not like I have much of a say in this matter anyway. I saw the way the chief looked at you. He really likes you. And I'm going to be super honest with you," she looked him in the eyes, "My instincts tell me he's even going to talk to you about marriage. If you'd like to be my potential suitor."

"Suitor?" his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. "A-Are you sure?"

"Why else would he specifically tell me I don't need to choose anyone from Khasiq's selection? Why else would he tell you to follow me to my room, bodyguard or not? You don't know what it means when a man who is not related in any way to a woman is told to accompany her to her room?"

He flushed beet red. "O-Oh."

"I need you to not take it personally," she said. "And to say no, of course. You know how our people can be."

"Say 'no'? I don't know," he teased, "my parents will jump on such a chance. They're trying to get me hitched as soon as possible, too. What better option than the princess of the North?" He leaned forward, "Can you imagine it, Princess? Us married?"

"Oh, no," she shook her head, chuckling.

"You don't want to marry me?" he feigned offense. "I'll make a really good husband."

"I'm sure you would for the right lady."

"Rejecting me again, I see."

"La already has my heart, naalagaanera. Nice try."

"So much heartbreak today," he clutched his chest dramatically, earning amused giggles, "I'm losing to a statue! How will I ever deal with it?"