The four weeks when the cherry blossoms bloom always coincided with the height of Caldera City's social season. During this brief window of time, the weather was pleasant enough for garden parties and moon-lit strolls, but the oppressive summer heat that drove those who could afford it away to the seaside resorts on the Fire Nation's outer islands hadn't yet set in. Caldera's sea of cherry trees was what drew its visitors and provided a pretext or backdrop for many of the amusements they enjoyed.
Like the cherry blossoms themselves, the social season was as short-lived as it was beautiful.
This year, the most anticipated event of the season was the ball held to celebrate Fire Lord Zuko's fifteen years on the throne. It also marked fifteen years since Lord Zuko shocked the entire country by marrying a blue-eyed Water Tribe beauty from the South Pole in a private ceremony before their joint coronation.
All of Caldera society had whispered: at least she's the daughter of some Southern Water Tribe chieftain. Close enough to a princess. And the alliance between the Fire Nation and the Northern and Southern Water Tribes has turned out to be mutually beneficial. That was how we got all these newly wealthy oil barons and steel tycoons.
Some of them were among the couples gliding and spinning around the palace ballroom to the strains of the "cherry blossom waltz", a piece of music made famous by a popular new opera, The Tragedy of Oma and Shu.
The Fire Lord and his consort, Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, watched the dancers and greeted the dignitaries who approached them at the raised dais. Lord Zuko stood tall and dignified in full Fire Navy dress uniform, and Master Katara was a vision in red velvet and sapphires, a nod to her Water Tribe heritage.
Princess Azula, who stood at her brother's right hand, wondered how her sister-in-law could bear being trussed up in those new-fangled bustle dresses with their restrictive corsets and cumbersome trains. The evening variations often showed more arm and cleavage than was decent.
Believing that at least one female in the royal family should be dressed appropriately for this occasion, Azula had opted for the traditional Junihitoe. Its twelve layers covered her from her neck to her fingertips and trailed behind like a fishtail. The outermost layer of the Junihitoe was made from black Kyoshi silk embroidered with golden dragons, a reference to one of Caldera's worst-kept secrets: that tonight, dear Zuzu was going to present her with the Order of the Golden Dragon. A bit premature since Lord Ukano's rebellion mainly had been quashed, but the scoundrel himself hadn't yet been apprehended. Still, Azula had never been one to refuse an opportunity to be honored and praised.
As the daughter of the late Fire Lord Ozai of revered memory and direction descendent of Avatar Roku on her mother's side, such tributes were merely Azula's birthright.
The herald pounded his staff. "Chief Sokka and Lady Kanna of the Southern Water Tribe," he announced.
As Katara's older brother, the Water Tribe ambassador, led his ancient grandmother up to the dais, Azula rolled her eyes.
Lady Kanna looked down her nose at Azula. Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady.
Azula glared back at her. Still alive, you old witch? Of course, Lady Kanna was one of those obstinate elderly dragonesses who out-live everyone.
Dressed in a miniature admiral's uniform, Zuko and Katara's younger son, the nine-year-old Prince Iroh, saluted his uncle.
Sokka saluted back. "Permission to come aboard, sir?" he asked Iroh.
"Granted," the boy replied. A wide, gap-toothed grin stretched across his face.
Sokka ruffled his nephew's hair, then greeted the boy's parents with crushing platypus-bear hugs and thunderous claps on the back. Finally, Sokka bowed to Azula and flashed her a goofy smile, not unlike little Iroh's. Azula just scoffed at him. Fifteen years they had known each other, he still hadn't realized that his quest to make her like him was futile.
"Master Beifong of Gaoling," said the herald.
Most people were surprised that the celebrated inventor of metal bending and six-time Earth Rumble champion was a petite, doll-like young woman who'd been blind from birth. Master Beifong was heiress to one of the most enormous fortunes in the Earth Kingdom, but she apparently didn't have anything to wear besides the usual dusty green robes. And unfortunately, she also didn't know any better than clomping up to the Fire Lord and his consort and addressing them as "Sparky" and "Sugar Queen." She was looking and acting like the common slut she was.
Zuko and Katara greeted their friend with indulgent smiles and graciousness, but Azula snorted with amusement. It was laughable that the rulers of the Fire Nation could receive a woman who was a mother of two and a wife to none as if she were a respectable lady.
Iroh tugged on the sleeve of Azula's robe. "Aunt Azula," he said. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Azula snapped. The boy was like his mother, forever prying into other people's business.
Iroh inserted his finger into one of his nostrils.
"Stop that!"
Rolling his eyes, Iroh wiped snot on his pant leg.
Azula struggled not to gag. She never could stand little boys. No matter what you tried to do with them, they were always so uncouth and disgusting. Every day, Azula thanked Agni that she had a daughter instead of a son.
The herald pounded his staff against the ground for the third time. "Lord and Lady Kei," he said.
A fashionably dressed young couple approached the dais. Zuko shook the man's hand while Katara kissed the woman on the cheek.
"Dear Lady Mai," Katara said. "How wonderful to see you."
When it was Azula's turn, she gave a half-hearted bow. "Madame Ukano," she said. How dare you show your face here, traitor's daughter.
Mai flushed and lowered her eyes. Most married Fire Nation noblewomen kept their maiden names, especially when they had one as ancient and prestigious as Ukano. But now, the name Ukano carried the taint of treason. Hence, why Mai had dropped it in favor of her husband's name.
Her instinct for self-preservation had always been her only redeeming feature.
With her gawky frame and perpetually sullen expression, poor Mai had never been a beauty. She preferred dark colors, thinking they made her look sophisticated and elegant, even though she looked washed out and gloomy in them. The black velvet bustle dress she was wearing did her particularly few favors.
Nor was Mai ever a social success. Even when she and Azula were students at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, Mai preferred to sulk in the corner and affect disdain for the "boring" amusements that lesser beings enjoyed. Even Mai's own mother predicted that she would end up a sour old maid.
"You'll be the sour kind, no doubt," Lady Michi had said.
Azula was surprised when Mai married, not at the youngest possible age but hardly at the oldest, Kei Lo, a perfectly nice young nobleman with vast estates in the country.
Katara made pleasant small talk with Mai about their respective children and parties they had both recently attended before Mai and Kei Lo had to move on and let the next people approach. Despite all of Katara's faults, Azula had to admit that her sister-in-law was an impeccable hostess.
Around midnight, Zuko presented Azula with the Order of the Golden Dragon, a heavy pendant worn on a heavier chain. Azula bowed low so Zuko could put the chain around her neck. She then rose to make a speech.
"Our darkest night has ended," she said, "with the rising of this bright sun of Agni."
The crowd roared its approval. Now that Ukano's rebellion had been crushed, the Fire Nation was finally at peace for the first time in over a century. Their children and their children's children ad infinitum would only ever know about the war as something they learned about in history class.
Some shouted "Long live Lord Zuko!"
"Long live Princess Azula," cried others.
Azula placed a serene, radiant smile, befitting the heroine of the hour, on her face.
Some among the crowd hailed her as "Lady of the Golden Dragon."
Lady of the Golden Dragon. Wasn't that one of the tittles that the old witch in the cabbage field had addressed her by? Of course. The entire nation, even lowly peasants like the old witch, must have suspected that Azula would be given that honor.
The crowd parted to allow two young girls to pass through. Zuko and Katara's oldest child, Crown Princess Izumi, a pale, serious-looking girl, tall for her not-quite-fifteen years, was the first.
Azula tutted in disapproval that her niece, though dressed in appropriately virginal white, had been allowed to show off so much skin.
Izumi was followed by Azula's twelve-year-old daughter, Iylah. Those three girls passed by murmured about what lovely young ladies they were growing into.
"They say Lady Iylah is a fire-bending prodigy," someone said. "Perhaps the best of her generation."
Azula beamed. The day that Iylah had first drawn fire was one of the proudest of Azula's life.
Izumi presented her father with a bouquet of cherry blossoms. Iylah, as pretty as a cherry blossom herself in pale pink robes, gave one to Azula.
"I'm so proud of you, Mama," Iylah said.
Azula kissed her daughter's forehead. "Thank you, sweetheart."
Iylah's approval meant more to Azula than the praise of the whole Fire Nation.
"Do I get a kiss too?" Chan snuck up behind them, looking like a hunting falcon who'd brought its master back a particularly choice piece of game. He'd been swooping around the ballroom all evening hoping to gather up any interesting bits of gossip he could find.
Azula gave her husband a smooch on the lips. Iylah pretended to gag.
Chan clapped Iylah on the shoulder. "Time for bed."
"Do I have too?" Iylah pouted. She looked to her mother for support.
"Go!" Azula added. It was late, well-past when the children were usually asleep. And besides, Azula was salivating at the idea of whatever Chan had to tell her, which probably wasn't something appropriate to speak about in front of their twelve-year-old daughter.
Izumi, thinking she was all grown up because she'd been allowed to wear a ballgown and stay up past midnight, snickered.
"You too, young lady," Katara said. She nudged Izumi toward the edge of the dais. "Off to bed with you."
Izumi stomped off after her cousin.
Once the children were gone and no one was paying attention to them, Azula whispered to Chan, "What do you have for me?"
"Lord Ukano is dead," Chan replied. "They say he fell on his own sword, a fitting end for a disgraceful traitor. But, before that, he wrote a final letter addressed to his daughter."
Mai and Kei Lo were dancing the "Possum-bat Quadrille".
Was the black velvet gown Mai wore a subtle gesture of mourning for her father?
Azula would have to keep an eye on her "old friend."