The fires of the throne room are meant to burn without ceasing, even when the Fire Lord sleeps, to represent the eternal flame of our nation. My sanctuary, my refuge lay between the pillars and statues nearest the blaze. It was three times hotter than the saunas and heated pools, yet it was the one place I could go to breathe no matter what. There was a way to reach it completely unseen by anyone, even the Fire Lord, but Ursa had always known where it was without explanation or effort. She always knew when I was there, and she always went after me a few minutes after I sat down…
But she wouldn't be coming anymore.
I focused all my energy into one memory. The memory of her first visit. She'd stormed in with a scowl and reprimand tugging at her lips, but then she'd panicked at the lack of sweat on my chest, trying to pull me away with her cries of "dehydration!" I'd laughed her off and managed to convince her that I was fine, but she stared at me with a raised eyebrow for the remainder of our time there. She sat next across from me, mumbling something about reckless and foolhardy but otherwise not saying a word to me, until I finally left so she wouldn't melt in her robes.
The next few times, she would try to drag me out by whining, grumbling, and sighing in a very passive aggressive way that dared me to continue more than anything else. Eventually, however, she learned to sit in silence and wait, patient and calm, confident I would leave soon for the simple reason that she would need to. Ursa could take the heat better than most, but not as well as I did. She wasn't going anywhere without me, and I would never drain her like that. There were days when I thought she couldn't be born of fire. She was too unlike any other woman in the Fire Nation. And then there were days when I thought she exemplified fire more than anyone in the world.
Sometimes she radiates twilight, sometimes the dawn.
I was a fool.
A mad, mad fool.
Which just served as more proof as to why I didn't deserve her. Why she deserved so much more than me.
It wasn't just that she deserved better than me. She deserved better than the life I could offer her. I was suffocating in a cage I never wanted her to know. I was so sure that a princess's burden of duty and tradition, without any real influence, would snuff out the light in her eyes, the passion in her heart, the fire in her spirit. The only woman in the royal family would have more roles, obligations, and responsibilities than I could imagine, if Azulon had anything to say about it—and he would—without any real authority. The wife of a second-born prince could only make small changes, and Ursa was never one to stay small. The restlessness, court gossip, and pettiness of it all would drive her mad. If I could offer her, say, the influence of a Fire Lady…
I continued my line of brooding without hesitation, not realizing it was the most treasonous thought I had in years.
What about… him? some part of me wondered. Ursa can take care of herself, I tried to assure myself. There's nothing she can't handle. She'll find a way to get rid of him before betrothal gifts are exchanged. No man on the planet could control her or depress her spirit…
No man on the planet save the one she loved.
My faith in her alleviated neither this sudden concern nor my constant desire to see her. I even attended another of those miserable dinners in hopes of either catching a glimpse of her or learning something about her… "betrothed." Bile rose in my throat at the thought of it. I'd never met him before, though he came from a well-respected family.
Neither one attended. Not even her cousins were there, which should've struck me as odd. Eavesdropping on everyone I could, so everyone there essentially, I didn't hear a word about Lieutenant Zhao, and I couldn't find a subtle way to ask about him even with my charm. I certainly wasn't about to give his existence the satisfaction of being acknowledged by the Fire Prince.
Instead, I had to suffer the flirting of Li Mei.
She threw herself into the role—and at me—with ambition and manipulation equal my own. Somehow, she must have known I was coming, or she always wore black gowns in attempt to win my interest as she thought Ursa had. The neckline of that gown was a rather impressive find on her part as well, seeing as it showed off deep cleavage to no one but me when she leaned forward in just the right way. The more she spoke, the more I realized Li Mei was exactly the kind of woman I would have married…
If I never met Ursa.
And I thanked the spirits for her once again.