I had a servant wake me up because I didn't trust myself, but I felt impossibly… refreshed. Revitalized even. My sleep was so wonderful and solid, in fact, that I forgot most of the previous night, if not the previous few months, on my way to send off Piandao.
The docks were overcrowded with both robes and uniforms, and I was grateful for my height once again. Even so, the chaos of the helmets left me feeling a little dazed until I caught sight of the swordsmaster. He was far away from the crowd, naturally, examining the ocean the way Ozai examined flame.
He must have sensed me before I reached him because, once I finally did, he had a soft smile devoid of surprise. I started to greet him and ask about… something, but he cut me off in a way that explained his grim face quite clearly.
"Ursa, your cousin told me about the will."
"She—she had no right to do that," I stammered at first for this bluntness, though it was very in his character, and recovered with a coldness that would have impressed the Fire Lord himself.
And out of absolutely nowhere, Piandao began to blush.
"I know, I… I mean, uh… I wanted to offer, I wanted to ask…"
I blinked at him, and he closed his eyes to center himself again, breathing deeply and then letting it all out in a very military-report fashion.
"It would be a marriage in name only. I was going to ask you last night, but I thought you needed some time to rest and clear your head. I should've asked as soon as she told me, given how little time there is, and given that I very well may not come back—"
"Don't talk like that. Whose would be a marriage in name only?"
"Ours. Lady Ursa, I want to ask you to marry me. I understand that you don't feel, and may never feel, for me what I feel for you…"
As soon as he said it, absolute certainty ignited inside me. All it took was hearing those words from someone else for my brain to flip a switch and realize what my heart had always known.
And I couldn't stop smiling.
"Thank you, but I can't—" The words rushed out even as my hand covered my ear-to-ear grin, and then I bolted.
I couldn't think about saying a proper goodbye to Piandao and the other men leaving to risk their lives for our nation. I couldn't think about apologizing or explaining. I couldn't think about anything but where he would be. I couldn't think about anything other than the three words I needed to say more than anything.
The day was surprisingly gray, and the dragon fountain reflected it. The water felt murky even though I knew it was crystal clear. Lu Ten would've been splashing in it if he hadn't insisted on sending off, "The big soldier boys with Grandfather." I didn't want to witness him stifle the poor prince. Seen-but-not-heard didn't fit my nephew at all, but I knew that's how we would be. That's how Azulon willed him to be. I almost never went to that sort of thing, especially when Azulon was there. My presence in the salute to the ships only served as a reminder that I was not going with them. It was a reminder Azulon wanted to avoid for both the sake of my aggravation and his people's; families don't like to remember that their sons may be dying while their prince lives in paradise.
There weren't any turtleducks that morning, of which I was glad. I would've wanted to burn the feathers off of them in irritation and longing, but I also would have been unable to do so. I had no will that morning. No fire. No drive. Not enough energy to evaporate a raindrop.
Until I heard my name.
"OZAI!" I cried with far more desperation than was warranted to everyone else, but not half as much desperation as I felt.
He spun around as if he thought my dress was on fire, and his eyebrows vanished into his hairline once he saw the sore-cheek smile on my face.
Ursa glistened from head to toe with what she, and no one else, would have called sweat. She'd pulled her hair back for the run, something she never did, and the loose strands clung to her face and neck like paint.
It took all I had not to kiss that gorgeous girl.
I met her halfway, half-convinced she would faint after sprinting that far, but nothing in her expression or stance said she was familiar with any form of "tired."
"Prince Ozai," she breathed with delight, amber eyes sparkling and shimmering and melting and burning gold. "I swear by the sun rise and sun set, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you—"
He kissed me so deeply my knees crumbled. He floated down to the ground with me and kissed me again. I kissed him back, and he rose, sweeping me up into his arms, spinning around and around until we overflowed into the dragon fountain's pool.
She laughed and laughed—the world's best music—and let me kiss her even as we lay down in the water. Cool water ran over us as if it feared we, as mere mortals, could not handle the warmth of our inner flames, but I didn't feel an ounce of relief from this heat. I never wanted any.
Eventually, we broke for air, looking at each other in perfect stillness. The fountain kept flowing, but time had surely stopped. His eyes were the softest of golden glows, memorizing every curve of my face without ever breaking this gaze.
It was a moment of perfect peace as—our gazes one and the same—I looked up at him as well, studying the crystalline pattern of his irises, worshipping the way his long hair fell when wet, loving every line and angle and bone structure that gave me—
"My prince," she spoke over the soft-yet-thunderous fountain, trapped in my arms and never leaving them again, a spirit of the water itself with eyes stolen from a dragon.
I brushed two fingers along her elegant neck, too soft to be marble, too warm to be pearl, the envy of every swan, deserving of more paintings than my nation had storage for.
He fourth-smiled and kissed my forehead, whispering for the first time…
"My princess."
She climbed out of the fountain and tried to be the voice of reason while I soared above the stars. I wanted to storm right into Azulon's throne room and declare my intention to marry the Avatar's granddaughter, but she calmed me down, insisted I take time to breathe and make a plan, begging for just a little more patience.
As if I knew the meaning of the word when it came to her.
Ozai really waspatient when he had to be. He never wanted to be, but he always was. Of course, he didn't think of it as patience. He thought of it as plotting or biding time or stamina or skulking.
I promised not to do or say anything until Iroh was home. Though I resented the implications of such a request from her, I secretly, silently acknowledged its necessity. The golden boy was golden for a reason.
"I have to watch Lu Ten," I reminded him on the sixth kiss goodbye.
"Just a few—"
"Ozai."
"I thought I was Prince Ozai now."
"Ozai," I scolded and finally broke free.
I must have glanced back a dozen times before he finally left my sight.
The dreams stopped after that.