The message Zhao received contained orders relating to the end of his leave and the start of a new mission, thanks in part to yours truly.
I hadn't been able to glean much information about the lieutenant without drawing attention, but I had discovered the name of his commanding officer's ship. When the timing was right, I offered up my own suggestion in a war meeting as two advisers were debating different tactics according to historical successes and defeats. Even the most senior advisers viewed criticism of our famous, beloved generals as unacceptable and unpatriotic so, in every debate, there were intense efforts to never step on toes. Intense, yes, but also very boring for everyone else involved.
I spoke up half to wake up the other advisers, signaling for permission to speak, valuing my life too much to speak out of turn. My father, as bored and apathetic as the others, nodded his permission, and I was blunt. I explained, simply and succinctly, why both plans failed to account for the vast differences in circumstance, number, surroundings, and resources compared to the past, and why simply neither one would work. At least not in the way we desired, not in the way our nation defined battle success. The spoils wouldn't outweigh the cost half as much as we would like. Mediocrity had no place in my "father's" war room.
I was frank, but I wasn't cruel about it. Well, not what they considered cruel "even for" me. I'd cast enough dispersions on both plans that neither man seemed to feel embarrassed. Each thought the other had been insulted enough to balance everything out.
A third advisor, old enough to be bored by almost everything, then asked what tactic I would suggest, and every pair of eyes in the room was glued on me for a very simple reason: Azulon. He'd been staring at me since I spoke, not even blinking, waiting to discover my endgame.
So I did the unexpected. I proposed something simple, ordinary, lacking any genius whatsoever. It would work, of course, but it was a bit like stating the obvious. It'd already been thought of by everyone save the two debaters, and I certainly had nothing to gain by saying it aloud. The others agreed and the discussion passed on without another hitch. They didn't even seem to notice when Azulon kept glancing at me, calculating why I hadn't calculated more.
Of course, my simple suggestion was just specific enough to guarantee that Zhao's fleet would be sent out much sooner than expected, buying Ursa more of the precious time she so craved and we so needed.
I never dreamed it would lead to Azulon stretching out an olive branch.
A messenger appeared on my doorstep the next day. Zhao was expected to report for duty much sooner than expected, but he intended to stay the day with me before leaving. I was forced to find another head babysitter for Lu Ten so I could attend a very unpleasant picnic at the manor of Li Mei's suitor. She was present but too devoted to her nobleman to sow any more seeds of doubt or provocation. My cousins and their suitors were also there, which helped.
Kindness was never such a struggle for me until this "engagement." Zhao, however, tried to squeeze six months worth of kindness, flattering, and charm into one afternoon, doing his best to woo and win me over. While he hadn't mastered first, second, third, or fourth impressions, this fifth one was much better. He made the conversation light and friendly at first, at times digging deeper, more serious and meaningful in his eyes, but he remained confident, open, and relaxed. He remained that way because everyone else seemed to submit to the will he exerted, and I'm sure that would've impressed many of my nation's willful people.
I'm sure that most would've been impressed by the firebending he displayed several times during conversation lags. He was, as predicted, a bender of rage and brutish fury. A bender of glory. He always had a purpose and seemed to have control on the surface, but beneath? His rash, short temper lacked true discipline. The concept of self-restraint was foreign to him, and it would lead to his self-destruction.
When sitting with him, I did everything to seem like I was softening to him, like I actually found him attractive. I'd won a lot of time, but I didn't know how he might worry while at sea or how much he could still influence me while away. So I poured out the wit, the vivacious yet elegant charm. After so many years in the palace and in noble training, I had more than mastered it. The mask had become second nature, sometimes to the point where even I couldn't tell when it was a mask and when it was me. I couldn't tell when it had started to change me into it.
The act was one of allure, of humor and understanding, but restrained, perfectly proper, gentle, soft, and keeping distant in a way. All noblewomen had to be. There was a fine, fine line between enchanting and flirting, and in the world of Fire Nation nobles, nonbending women had almost nothing if not their reputation.
The mad thing was Zhao almost seemed to listen to what I said. Unless, of course, he was praising or staring at me with thoughts of either filth or calculation. He didn't exhaust easily. He spent every minute constantly analyzing what I might like, what might attract me, or what I looked like beneath—
"Love," said the man who didn't know the meaning of the word, apparently engaged in some debate with Lee, "is worth chasing no matter the cost."
Could you be less subtle? Is that supposed to be romantic? There are certainly prices you shouldn't pay for love.
Lee countered, glancing at me in sympathy while I feigned interest in my sketchbook.
"Sometimes a woman needs to time to heal, or simply to get to know you and realize that she can open up to and trust you. She may need time and space, and it takes that to earn her trust. Love often creeps up on you softly, but it can't if you don't show your love for her by being patient and always being there for her. Love is a choice as well as a," he tried to explain.
"I'm just saying that if I found the love of my life, I'd grab her and never let her go," Zhao added with a painfully obvious wink.
"Did you say something, Zhen?" I asked when she seemed to chuckle at something Kazou said a while off.
"And if she felt nothing for you?" Lee scolded. "You'd just—?"
"There are ways to make a woman feel something," the lieutenant teased heartlessly, a hardness in his tone and a horrible flash of lightning in his eyes.
Lie Mei laughed so loud my instincts didn't lead me to growl in fury. Instead, my jaw dropped, and I stormed off to join Zhen and Kazou. I sat down without a word and glared coldly at their picnic blanket, and they stared at me awkwardly.
"Lady Ursa," Kazou finally approached, "are you…?"
"Don't talk to me," I advised with all the calm I could muster.
They didn't, but Kazou passed me some fire flakes.
Zhen and Maylin did their best to entertain me for the rest of the day, and Zhao respected my space for once. I was so grateful for them, and I loved spending every second I could with them and their new friends. It drove me mad that I couldn't be for them more, that I couldn't devote all my attention to such selfless, dedicated friends, and that I couldn't enjoy their newfound happiness half as much as I would like. I liked their suitors, but I couldn't befriend, analyze, and get to know them as I would have a few months earlier. I couldn't be certain of my own mind for one of the first times in my life, and I couldn't be fully objective or full engaged in… anything.
Zhao walked me home in silence.
If he felt awkward, he didn't show it, and I was too obstinate to feel uncomfortable. I was too absorbed in remembering every detail of a certain pair of much finer eyes.
When we finally reached the front door, I muttered a thank you, but he caught my wrist. I froze and hoped he would misinterpret my chills of horror for pleasure.
"Lady Ursa," he cooed, and I fought back the urge to scream.
I turned back and smiled as much as I could, hoping it would seem soft and sweet. Silently, I played through my favorite song to bear breathing and living in such a moment.
"Lieutenant Zhao."
He kissed my hand without breaking my gaze, and my mind screamed, "Blazing flames, brightest in the fall!"
"I'm sure there's a lot I should apologize for," he half-admitted without actually apologizing, "but I'm a man of action more than words, contrary to how I may appear. Those actions will say more than I can, and I'm going to prove… I'll miss you," he said with a surprising note of sincerity. I looked away, almost feeling sorry for him. "But I will be back to fight for you, to win you whatever the cost."
Whatever the cost? Only someone who doesn't know love at all would find that romantic.
"Be safe, Lieutenant Zhao. You are in my thoughts, and I hope you return safely," I said as he bowed. I couldn't wish for anything less—nor anything more.
"Write to me," he commanded before leaving. "I'll send you every treasure this war has to offer."
Ah, presents from the people he's slain or oppressed. Charming.
I ran inside to breathe, crying from relief for once and hoping he mistook it for bawling.