Chapter Four

Ursa sits patiently at the low table. It's mahogany wood is glossy, and it extends quite far. It is bare except for a low arrangement of various flowers and gold-painted strings. She fiddles with the obijime - the thick sash tied around her waist. It is foreign. She is not used to such rich fabric such as this, gift from the Prince. It is vibrant red, laced with dragons, accented by the intricate sash. Everything is foreign. The houses look different in Hira'a, her home. Although, the palace is not a home, she reminds herself. It is much too vast to be called a home. She looks across the room, taking in her surroundings. She has just arrived, and did not take the time to look around.

The floor is deep mahogany, same as the low table. A thick rug lies underneath the table, and many silken cushions rest upon it. Ursa goes to touch her face, but stops herself. Her mother had done her makeup, assembled her hair. Ursa barely remembers it - the entire day had gone by in a flash. Rina had said so many things. Mind your manners, speak only when spoken to, carry out the tea ceremony properly, don't disappoint. Make a good impression on the Firelord. At that memory, Ursa took a sharp breath. He would be there in just a few moments, she was told by a servant. She looked at her reflection in the decorative mirrors to the left of the table. Her hair was tied up, her posture straight. Various jade and ruby hairpins decorated her scalp, mimicking the paint on her lips. There was light blush on her cheeks, and a bit of kohl around her eyes. She did not look herself, she thought. She looked more mature. As soon as she thought it, she scowled and looked away from the mirror. She should look mature, she told herself, she was meeting royalty. She was no longer a child. She should not be shaken by such things.

A pair of guards entered the room suddenly, the sound of their heavy armor echoing in the vastness of the palace. They stood on either side of the large doorway, staffs in hand. Ursa straightened a bit.

"His majesty, Fire Lord Azulon," one of them said. Ursa took a deep breath. Azulon entered then, royal robes billowing at his ankles. She bowed to him completely once he caught her eye, bending as far as she could at the table without fully kowtowing to him.

"Lady Ursa," he spoke, his deep voice raspy and regal at the same time, "Let us have a look at you, dear." Ursa blinked, unaware of anyone else in the room. She gracefully lifted her head and sat up completely. Just behind the Firelord stood Ozai, regal as ever in very dark burgundy robes. She looked back to his majesty, wondering if she should say something. Azulon smiled and hummed in approval to himself.

"Very beautiful, yes," he said approvingly. Her heart beat rapidly in his chest. Even though he had complimented her, his presence alone was terrifying. She attempted a smile, lowering her head to accept a compliment.

"Thank you, your Majesty," she said, attempting to sound regal. A few other nobles entered the room as well. Ozai sat across from her, and when she blushes he smirks. He speaks little, and most of the conversation is between between Azulon and the other nobles, but it still excites her. She is dining with the royal family. Ursa says what she is supposed to say, how she has practiced, and carries out the tea ceremony as her mother taught her. Azulon does not smile at her again, but he looks at her from time to time, and watches her closely as she pours the tea. She thinks he at least does not despise her. When the ceremony is over and the Firelord and the other nobles have left. Ozai smiles again, speaking freely now.

"The dress suits you. I knew it would," he breathes. Her face lightens.

"Thank you. It's beautiful," she says, looking at him for the first time. She was too afraid to look at him during the ceremony. Perhaps because he intimidates her and it would be inappropriate, and perhaps because she would be afraid she would not be able to look away again. He looks like he does in his portraits. His black, glossy hair is tied up. Ursa imagines running her fingers through it. His crown sparkles. Suddenly, he turns around, hearing the sound of the guards departing along with his father.

"Just a moment," he says, "Do not leave yet, please." Ursa nods as he stands.

"Of course," she agrees. He goes out into the hallway. After a minute or so he returns. She stands near the doorway, smoothing out her kimono and frowns a bit when she sees that her lip rouge is gone. She snaps to look at Ozai when he steps close to her, smiling. His gaze pierces her, keeping her in place, even though he is only happy.

"My father likes you," Ozai says quietly, "He approves." Ursa blinks several times. She looks up at him.

"Approves?" She asks, "Of me?"

"Of our courtship." Ursa leans back a bit and looks across the darkened hallway. It was nighttime now. When she looks back to him, he is scowling, standing straighter. His shoulders are broad and for a moment he frightens her.

"Do you-do you not wish for this?" He asks, seemingly hurt in some way. She blinks, her brows furrowing as well.

"What do you mean?" She asks, and rushes to continue, "I-I don't know what to say."

"You don't fancy me," he says with a not of finality, and turns. His profile is outlined as he looks away from her, the soft light of the room smoothing his features. He is beautiful.

"No," she says quickly, coming to face him again, "I do. I just- I barely know you is all."

She says everything in earnest, and watches his expression. His brows are still knit together, but he now looks curious, not distressed.

"I do fancy you, Ozai," she reassures him. In a moment of uncharacteristic confidence, and without thinking, she reaches up to cup his face. The prince inhales sharply at her touch. It is inappropriate to touch royalty. She screams internally at herself. Quickly, she removes her hand, but before she can do anything, he leans forward and kisses her. Ozai's hand is holding hers, the hand that reached for him, and he brings it to his chest as he kisses her fully. His lips capture hers, and she stills completely, her heart beating wildly in her breast. She has never kissed anyone before. But it would be terrible to just stand there and disappoint the prince, she thinks, and she returns the kiss the best she can. Her hands rest upon his clothed chest, feeling the hardness of his chest underneath.

She can barely breathe, but he doesn't stop. Ursa has no idea why she imagined his lips to feel cool. Ozai is radiating warmth. He takes a hand from her waist to hold her neck, and she leans into his touch. His tongue is relentless and much better practiced than hers, but she learns quickly. Eventually, he breaks the kiss.

Ursa doesn't even realise the heaviness of her own breathing. She removes her hands from his chest and tries to stand still without her knees buckling underneath her. Something is pulsing through her, like adrenaline, racing through her core. Ozai is staring at her deeply, and from this close his eyes are even more intense. They are piercing, and the color of them is honestly that of gold. It looks as if flecks of the metal are actually melted into his irises. Then, his expression changes. She suddenly wonders if he is a bit concerned. He looks as if perhaps he was second guessing kissing her. But then there is a sound of someone clearing their throat, and the moment is lost altogether. They both turn quickly.

Prince Iroh stands in the middle of the hallway, a bit away from them. Ozai immediately straightens. Ursa is so uneasy at the sight of him, her stomach turns over. She was not supposed to let men touch her. Her breathing is quick now. Everyone has seen her in her lust, she thinks, even though it is only Iroh. Whore. Her parents words ring sharply in her ears.

"Brother," Ozai exclaims and then swallows. She looks to him and is momentarily relieved that she is not the only one that looks a bit uncomfortable. He bows and Ursa takes another step away from him as he approaches his brother. Ozai bends, as if to bow to his superior, but Iroh holds him fast. He is a full head taller than his elder brother, and the hug looks a bit awkward, but it is still sweet, Ursa thinks. Her breathing finally begins to calm when Iroh speaks,

"It is so good to see you, Ozai," Iroh says warmly as he releases him, "It has been too long." Iroh had been away at war for many months, near the fronts. Ozai takes a step away from him, and Ursa cannot see whether he is smiling or not.

"Indeed." Iroh turns, still smiling, and looks to Ursa standing in the doorway. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but Ozai cuts him off.

"I was just showing her out," he says quickly as Ursa silently bows, "I'll be back in a minute." Ursa looks at him as he moves down the hallway and waits for her to follow him. She picks up her skirts and follows him out. She wonders why he did not even introduce her. Perhaps he was simply uncomfortable discussing such things. Agni knows she was, her blush was creeping farther up her cheeks. When they reach the door he turns to her, exhaling.

"That was so embarrassing," she says under her breath, licking her lips and thinking of their kiss. He looks up at her.

"Yes-yes it was," he breathes, "I'm sorry. I had no idea he had returned, of course he would be looking for me." He says and Ursa shakes her head, her hair ornaments swaying along with her movement.

"Don't worry about that," she says, still blushing. He takes her hands in his then, and looks up at him. He is so warm. A true firebender, she thinks. His thumb runs across her fingers as he speaks,

"Thank you for coming. I must apologize again, for leaving, but my brother-" he breaks off off. Ursa smirks.

"I understand." He exhales again and runs the back of his fingers over her cheek. His touch burns despite its gentility.

"I'll write to you," he says, "soon." She smiles. No longer is her entire life small. There is more now than just pleasing her parents and doing as she is told, and it makes something in her burn. He is like fire. He is the closest she will ever get to the real thing.

A/N: Please review and favorite this story! I appreciate it so much!