Iroh returned to the war front so I was Lu Ten's main guardian once more. The little prince made for an excellent excuse when it came to avoiding Zhao, but I soon learned what determined creatures fiancés are. Two days after his "proposal," a hideously large bouquet of fire lilies appeared on my doorstep. I couldn't see the lieutenant until he lowered them to reveal a grin worse than a sand shark's.
I didn't even try not to glare.
"Good morning, Lady Ur—"
"Lieutenant Zhao," I snapped with more bitterness than I thought possible for the human voice. "The obvious seems to evade you, but I'll speak slowly and enunciate anyway. I didn't accept your proposal. My father did. I don't want to marry you. I don't know you. I don't love you, and I cannot respect, much less marry, any man willing to marry a woman who didn't!" The cool self-control I so prided myself on was overcome by the Fire Nation temper. "How exactly did you expect me to react to a stranger who would go about proposing in this insanely disrespectful, round-about, and archaic way? I may not have a choice in the matter YET, lieutenant—!"
The shock finally wore off the startled bender, and his widened eyes narrowed from the point of bulging to a glare so narrow I could barely see his pupils.
"Are you quite done?" he growled with clenched fists. "I came to invite you to a dinner tonight, but let me be clear so as not to 'evade the obvious.' It's no longer an invitation. It's an order. You will accompany me tonight. You will be civil. And you will obey me. For a very simple reason, my lady," he threatened with a calmness that brought back those awful chills, especially seeing as he tried to crowd me in against the door. "I. don't. care. I know what I want, and I know when I want it. I intend to make you feel that same way too, but I'm a patient man when it comes to that. What I will not tolerate is disobedience. Feel what you will for now, but obey me or you'll regret it. I can be far more charming than you realize," he shifted to a coo in his attempt at wooing, certain that his eyes of dirty amber were doing to me what only one pair of liquid gold could. "We have plenty of time to…" As the lecher trailed off, his gaze trailed my figure in that sick, twisted way— "Know each other."
My hand flew to strike his face, but he caught my wrist. Zhao's grip was firm-but-far-from-gentle, and the scratch of his nails sent a sharp pain up the length of my arm. I had too much of Ozai's pride to show it. I kept held his glower until he broke it with one final warning and instructions to the dinner party's time and place.
The lieutenant stormed off, but not before his fists let off two torches.
The fire lily bouquet, which he'd dropped some time ago, burst in a blaze at my feet, inches from the hem of my gown. I didn't step back or even flinch, though perhaps I should have. After all these years, I'd grown accustomed to the fire. I'd lost all fear of being burned.
Eventually, of course, the flames most familiar to me would burn me the most.
Distractions were few and far between. There were only so many men I could humiliate in a fire duel without seeming excessive or cruel, and there were only so many perfect plans and corrections I could share in war meetings that Azulon would pretend to hear without complaint or additional suspicion. Ursa was there to sing Lu Ten his lullaby, and I couldn't even play with him anymore… Until I did.
I'm his uncle. I'm have every right to see him. It's my duty, really, I rehearsed my defense on my way to the gardens. I didn't allow myself to think about the obvious main reason for why I was there. My very blood burned to see her, even at a distance, even if she refused to speak one word.
I could kill to see those eyes.
Someday, I would.
"Tuddle duck!" my nephew cried, giggling by the dragon fountain.
She laughed, correcting his pronunciation as I hid in an archway and looked longingly at her back.
How can any waist be so slim? I wondered, despite the fact I'd seen plenty thinner on plenty of girls half-starved for either poverty or beauty.
Lu Ten saw him first.
"Uncle!"
When she turned to see me, I thought she'd seen a dark spirit. For a second, at least, before her pale shock turned to white hot anger. She glared as Lu Ten ran into my arms, barely nodding her head and refusing to rise from her seat at the fountain.
"Hello, Lu Ten," he purred, picking the boy up and spinning him around. "Did you have a nice nap?"
The littlest prince chortled in reply, hollering with glee as his uncle threw him up into the air.
"Prince Ozai," I reprimanded more than greeted, and he set the boy down.
"Teaching him the proper way to feed turtle ducks?" he asked with that maddening, thoroughly unfair glint in his eyes.
He sat on the fountain next to me, just far enough away for me to not complain, but I slid back an inch anyway.
"Someone has to, unless we're to rely on you to teach him gentility."
"I did learn from the best," he countered with that blasted smirk.
She turned away from me and called Lu Ten to her side.
"Show your uncle Ozai how you feed the turtle ducks."
"Ursa," I said, trying to get her to meet my gaze.
"Lady Ursa," she corrected while sprinkling bed crumbs with an elegance that should've been outlawed.
"Forgive me, my lady," I replied, only half in jest, and she got up to walk away.
There were only two other servants there, and they didn't seem to be watching us, too wrapped up in some other scandalous gossip. Then again, they could've been pretending.
"Ursa."
"Would you just stop?" I bit back, arms crossed over my pained chest. "This is hard enough as it is, and you just… You made your decision by not deciding so stop acting like you didn't. I can't take it. Your teasing, your presence… You just make it worse."
No one else would've seen the pain on his face as he sat down to lean against the fountain, but I did. I saw those eyes freeze over.
"I know. I make everything worse. That's why I…"
It was his turn to avoid my gaze, and I remembered the meaning of his words that night. The admission of his shame and doubt. The admission of self-hatred and insecurity. Lu Ten tugged at my skirts, whining for me to pick him back up. I did, and he chittered away at his uncle, relating every minute of the past few days in as much vivid detail a three-year old could convey.
Ozai slipped back into his go-to-mask of indifference, smiling the bare level for the child to notice, and I remained silent. Speaking was too hard, and listening painful enough, but when Ozai did speak… I had to listen. He'd pretend to be speaking to Lu Ten, but he'd slide in snarky comments and witty quips that only I'd understand. I wouldn't let his eyes meet mine, but my lips couldn't help but curl a bit. It hurt to smile, but it hurt less. When he laughed at Lu Ten's tales, I drank it in like stinging medicine. Or perhaps sweet poison.
Eventually, some messenger came to remind him of a war meeting, and the prince left us. I finally met his eyes again to curtsy good-bye, and my own mask cracked just a little. I hated him, but I needed him, and I'd never stop waiting for him to realize our worth. To act on our love.
Blasted cheekbones.
As I walked away, my spirit seemed to soar, and I couldn't help but feel confident in everything. In her. In the world. In the inevitable. I still wouldn't think about the steps I had to take to make the reality we both longed for present, but I was satiated for the moment. I hoped she was too, though I knew she wasn't, and I refused to think of him. The one who'd get to see her more and more.
Meeting Zhao at the dinner party, I was relieved to find that I didn't have to be alone with him for one second. Unfortunately, Li Mei was there and kept trying to bait me with mentions of meeting with Prince Ozai at different social events. The nobleman she was currently seeking to entrap wasn't there so she had much more leeway in terms of lauding another man. I hadn't said a word to anyone, but Zhao was seated next to me and heard her clearly. He resented not being the center of attention and conversation.
"I still haven't met this Fire Prince Ozai," Zhao frowned as he lowered his cup.
Absurd as it sounded, he felt that the prince had snubbed him by not congratulating him on his engagement. Through what could only be described as delusional self-importance, Zhao had managed to convince himself that he was of high enough standing to not only receive acknowledgment from the Fire Prince, but to deserve it.
I listened, in total bewilderment, to him lament this neglect and point out that, "It would be if he were the crown prince, but he's not even that. What else does he have to do, really, when he's not even in the military?" If I'd cared a whit for the fool, I'd have blushed at his disrespectful display. I pretended not to hear him instead, but then he finally seemed to recall my existence, asking a question I never expected.
"What's he like?"
For the first time in our acquaintance, he left me truly dumbstruck. I had no thoughts of fury, indignation, longing, despair… I had no thoughts of any kind. I was at a total loss.
"Who?" I finally sputtered out of speechlessness.
"Prince Ozai. You were playmates as children, weren't you?"
If I'd been able to think, I would've burst from uncontrollable, unending laughter at the irony.
"Yes."
"He's like a spirit of the sun," Li Mei sighed her admiration as though Ozai himself were watching.
"You mean he thinks the world revolves around him?" I grumbled in reply, falsely hoping that Zhao would not hear.
To the contrary, he burst into contemptible laughter, and he looked at me with a glint in his eyes that might somehow have been worse than lust. He admired me. My wit, independence, and general untamableness suddenly added to my appeal. He seemed to wonder, for perhaps the first time, whether there it might be good to have a wife who was not only a pretty, docile hostess but also discerning and intellectual equal. My people couldn't help appreciating passion and fire in any and every form, but it certainly wasn't something I wished to portray to him. He'd see it—and me—as a challenge, a conquest all the more impressive and enjoyable for him. All the more crushing for me. He respected my strength, but not me. He respected my cunning, but not my mind. My "fiery spirit," but not my soul.
Li Mei hated to lose attention, but she wanted to encourage Zhao's dislike of Ozai in another respect.
"Our handsome Fire Prince seemed to revolve around you at the opening ball, Lady Ursa," she reminded loudly. "You should've seen how lovely she was that night, Lieutenant Zhao. His highness couldn't seem to take his eyes off her for second, and he would dance with no one else."
I could feel the entire table's eyes on me, examining my expression, searching for some response, but I looked at no one. I told myself I couldn't care less what she had to say or suggest, but I couldn't explain why my hand threatened to shake.
Before she could raise any of my "fiancé's" suspicions, dessert arrived to shift the conversation into praise and awe over the lavish treats. I wouldn't have to speak with Zhao again for the remainder of the evening, for he was called away by a messenger before I cleared my plate.
My relief wasn't evident to all, but I'm sure Li Mei saw it. For some purpose of her own, however, she would not reveal it to anyone else. She had other gossip to spread.
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