Chapter 7: The Jewel of the North

"Are you really that sure she can be trusted?"

Sokka didn't even bat an eye at Piandao's query and responded with an eager nod, his ear-splitting grin intact and brightened further by the rays of the sun peeping through the early dawn. "Yeah!"

"You barely knew her for five minutes," Piandao raised his eyebrows at his student's utter lack of skepticism in this matter.

"She's super nice," Sokka simply said, holding up a small, empty vial, "She gave me something for my soreness, and I didn't even ask for—"

"Did you drink it?" Piandao panicked.

"Well yeah, and it worked like a charm!" Jumping out of bed in a heartbeat, "I don't have to scream with every movement now!"

Piandao crossed his arms, still retaining a degree of uncertainty.

"Master, she really looks like she knows what she's doing," Sokka told him, settling back against the pelts. "I think she's very experienced. She was saying how she's had lots of success with this medicine before, and that implies that one, she has experience with seeing patients, and two, that she used this treatment before."

The swordmaster was still in thought as he mused, "I'm not sure if Mother Kanna would think a herbalist's opinion would hold greater weight than Yugoda's. Yugoda is not just a bending healer; she has been Mother Kanna's best friend since childhood. Why would someone as competent as Yugoda suggest a procedure when it's really not necessary? Even under the pressure of healing hut authorities?"

"I don't know what's going on with the healing hut," Sokka said, "but if anything, this is something some healers are worried about. The entire reason why that woman was treating that toddler with serums was because vulnerable people like babies and the elderly can't always handle large-scale procedures. Instead of taking a big risk like that first thing, if there's a way to heal Gran Gran without a procedure and without stressing her more than necessary, it's worth a shot, don't you think? I mean, what if the procedure goes wrong?" In a small voice, "What if we lose Gran Gran?"

Piandao frowned worriedly, "I get what you're saying, and her logic does make sense, but what if this serum is more harmful than good? You really meant it when you said she gave it for free, right—?"

"I offered to pay her and she declined. She said she doesn't charge."

"Exactly. If that medicine really was something valuable… I mean, who would give us something so valuable for free? And what if she is secretly working for Zhao and trying to gain our trust? I don't trust that man with any of his promises, and this could be his way of undermining us. He's ruined enough lives already."

Noting the bitter look in his master's eyes, "But I don't see her as ever hurting anyone."

Incredulous, "I won't say that's ridiculous, but it's getting there. You can't say that for sure. You especially never say that about anyone."

"I know, this is shocking for me, too, to be so sure about someone like this. But the people around here trust her very much," he said. "If she was working for Zhao, she wouldn't be sneaking people in and out of highly important wings of the mansion and helping them out against to Zhao's policy. She seems to know a lot of people here, too. And the fact that she was willing to help even though she's going through rough finances like us…"

"And you gathered all of this from five minutes of interaction?"

"I mean, we talked for five minutes, but I was able to see firsthand the kind of person she is."

"Oh, so it was a ten-minute interaction in total," came the unimpressed drawl.

"She was tired and sleeping on the bench. She didn't even realize I was there. She was waiting for that poor maid and her toddler. Basically gave the baby a checkup for free and gave the maid some money to help her out. If that woman didn't know I was gonna be there, how can she plan to trick me? There wasn't any reason for her to put on a show or anything even if she wanted to trick us."

Piandao remained unconvinced. "It's still difficult for me to wrap my head around this. How lucky can someone really be? Finding a cure so quickly for a complicated condition of that nature? For free? From someone whose name we don't even know. And the fact that you're going along with this without even thinking over it again—"

"She's not the type to make a big fuss about money. She's all about helping people," Sokka said. "And I don't know about our luck, Master, but I could tell she's one of the best things to happen to the people here. I've seen her help people right in front of my eyes."

Indeed, she was very gentle and very kind, very considerate of others' suffering, striving to help them at her own expense. She was also very tired when he had seen her, and as a result, maybe a little irritable with him, especially given his not-so-reputable first impression. Nevertheless, she showed respect for his boomerang, which others most often dismissed as a mere toy despite his reasoning for keeping it with him. She had eyes that were warm like a homely fire in the midst of a raging blizzard, long locks that resembled luminescent shooting stars, and a laugh that chimed like the joyful little bells of the Tui and La pagoda back at their Southern village… and as Sokka, eyes lidded with bliss, snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at a surprised Piandao, he realized that he had been rambling these additional things out loud and quickly wiped the dopey look off of his face. "I, uh…"

Piandao blinked at him before clearing his throat, "I understand this may be a moment of…what they say…romantic awakening, but you're not here for a matchmaking session, Sokka—"

"Matchmaking?" Sokka flushed beet red, "Pfft, I'm just telling you the things I noticed! Come on, Master, I'd never—"

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Sokka stumbled over to the door, surprised when a small package was placed in his arms.

"Parcel for you," the attendant said before taking his leave. The name written atop the parcel glimmered, Sokka Ingiullik. Sokka sieved through the contents of the parcel, finding a container filled with greenish liquid attached to a piece of paper and a small scroll. Sokka unfurled the folded note.

I won't be able to meet you as planned this morning, but I didn't want there to be a delay in getting this to you. I also sent instructions on how to prepare the serum. Please send all of this to your grandmother as soon as possible. I pray for her speedy recovery.

"It's from her!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

Showing Piandao the message and the attached mini scroll, "See, I told you! Look, it also has instructions on how to make the medicine."

Piandao looked over the instruction scroll with scrutiny, relenting a little bit, "These ingredients are medicinal as far as I'm aware. It appears legitimate—"

"It is legitimate. We gotta mail this right away—!"

"Hold off on the mailing, Sokka. We don't know for sure—"

"It can't hurt to try. You said it looks legitimate!"

"It does, but…" Piandao then trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as he read back over the note.

"What is it?" Sokka asked.

"Are you sure the woman who gave this to you is a maid?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Did she specify that she was a maid?"

"I asked her if she was a healer and a maid and she nodded, so yes?"

"That doesn't make sense," Piandao shook his head, "The handwriting matches."

"Matches what?"

The swordsman read over the note a few more times before retreating to his desk where his satchel was sitting. He sieved through the bag, pulling out a book that appeared worn and slightly disheveled.

"What's that?"

"An accounts book," the man flipped through a few pages, placing the note right beside the writing in the book. "These accounts were kept by Miss Yue Atsanik herself."

"Yue Atsanik?"

"Arnook's daughter," came the clarification. "And the writing is the exact same."

"So you're saying…" But Sokka shook his head. There's no reason for her to lie. "Maybe this woman worked as Miss Atsanik's scribe or something."

"I don't know if they'll have scribes who are also maids," Piandao mused. "This is all confidential information."

Sokka took a closer look through the book, finding the penmanship on each page to match the handwriting on the note, "Where did you get this book anyway?"

"Yesterday, I saw Zhao's assistant burning a pile of account books in secret. I managed to get a hold of this one when he was distracted. This is the latest one; it details all the transactions authorized by the Atsanik family in the past year. These accounts are actually accurate; the ones Zhao has given me are fabricated." Piandao reached into his satchel and pulled out another book, which similarly detailed the transactions of the past year. He turned to the same date that Sokka currently had the other book opened to.

"Look here," Piandao pointed to Zhao's records, "There are no mentions of transferring funds to the Workers Fund. All this money went into Zhao's account. These transactions are labeled, 'monthly bonus.' But here," he pointed to the accounts in the Atsanik record, "It's the same exact amounts, but they all went into the Worker's Fund. Every month on exactly the twenty-eighth day, money was authorized to go into the Workers Fund."

"Our salaries," Sokka widened his eyes.

"Yes, and look here," flipping to the very front of both books, stopping at a particular date, "Miss Atsanik authorized the compensations very early in the year according to the Atsanik record, but Zhao's accounts don't reflect anything like that." And to confirm, there was even a small piece of paper tucked between the relevant pages of the Atsanik record: a paper that included the names of all people who had filed complaints for not having received their compensations, accompanied by the complaint reference numbers. Sokka's name was near the top of that list.

"Two weeks after we sent our complaints, she approved of the compensations," Piandao said. "But in Zhao's documents? These amounts were not even reported."

And there was no question as to where all the money went. "He's been the one hogging our money and blaming it on Mr. Arnook!" Sokka exclaimed. "And Mr. Arnook probably doesn't know anything about this! We need to meet him and tell him—"

"We can't," Piandao turned to the very beginning of the Atsanik book. The handwriting on the first three pages was different from the writing on the fourth and subsequent pages.

"These first three pages were filled in by Arnook," Piandao pointed out, "and the transition to Miss Atsanik's penmanship was made later. But look at this."

Sokka noted the first few transactions marked in Miss Atsanik's handwriting. Several transactions were labeled as, "Mr. Atsanik's treatment costs." After another page of sporadic "treatment costs" amid other transactions, the description titled "cremation expenses" sealed the deal.

"Wait, Mr. Arnook is… dead?"

"These healing expenses indicate the man was suffering from some illness, and ever since, Miss Atsanik took up the responsibility of keeping the accounts. When he passed, she received broader powers as the heiress of the company."

"But no one's talking about Mr. Arnook like he's dead," Sokka said.

"I know. I've been casually asking around about Arnook earlier. Nothing too alarming, just where he is when his daughter's getting married. Everyone keeps saying Zhao sent him to the Fire Nation for advanced treatment. It's a way to silence everyone; Zhao is intentionally keeping Arnook's death a secret so he can make official filings on Arnook's behalf for monetary benefits."

"He can do that?"

"He's authorized to make all of Arnook's decisions for him, so he has the authority. He's also gotten very good at forging Arnook's approval signatures. Check this out," he reached into the satchel and pulled out a collection of documents, "The man has been deceased for almost a year, but just last week, he apparently signed a form requesting a loan? Waiving all of his involvement and naming Zhao as his representative?"

"This is awful," Sokka looked through the papers, his attention resting on the forged signature.

"We were mistaken, Sokka," Piandao admitted. "Arnook is not a bad man by any means. He and his daughter have authorized everything. They have agreed to all of our demands, even made donations from time to time. But Zhao had eaten up those funds and tossed the blame on Arnook. The business isn't even at a loss, and yet, we've been getting rejection letters stating the company is not financially stable to pay for compensations. These all came from Zhao's office. Arnook can't reject if he hadn't been alive." Sighing, "All this time, I'd been requesting to meet that man without knowing it's impossible to see him."

"Do you think Miss Atsanik knows all this?"

"I don't know how much she knows. Of course, she knows of Arnook's passing. She was the one who kept notes of his healing and cremation expenses. But as far as the financial aspects and Zhao's embezzlements, I have no clue. I have never seen or talked to her to date for me to observe how she perceives everything. She could still blindly be trusting Zhao, for all we know, or she's probably in a situation where she can't speak out. There has to be a reason why she's okay with people not knowing about Arnook's passing or…or how she herself is going through a financial crisis so silently. Despite the fact that everything here really belongs to her." Wearing a perturbed look, "But either way…I'm very worried about Miss Atsanik. That's why I keep harping on not trusting anyone. Everything seems fishy here from the way I've seen things progress…" Looking back at the note, "And I also find it very strange that the handwriting in this book and this note is the exact same."

Sokka sieved through the accounts, unsure of what to make of the penmanship observations. He stumbled upon a page that had the very last transaction listed: "sale of Ainunga property." A special note was made that the sale proceeds were to be furnished for the 'compensatory needs of factory employees.'

"She sent our compensation not once but twice!" the tribesman said in disbelief, "She even sold some property for it!"

A few loose documents were folded between the pages. Sokka read over the papers, stopping at a phrase of interest, "It's the property sale documents. Something about the Ahnah Atsanik Center for Herbal Healing…apparently the property was originally reserved for that…"

"Ahnah is Arnook's wife and Miss Atsanik's mother," Piandao said. "The lady passed when the heiress was very young."

"It says here that this property was originally bought by Arnook for his daughter. It's all in Miss Atsanik's name so she could establish a healing center for the poor and less fortunate at no cost—" Sokka stopped reading, his pulse jarring to a halt.

"Did you say that… the maid you saw was a herbalist…?" Piandao trailed off.

"I still remember everyone looking at me like I was crazy when I told them I wanted to study herbalism."

"I don't charge anything."

Sokka shot up out of his seat, his eyes wide. The woman he ran into was Miss Atsanik?!

All of the men who had trained with him the day before had been assigned their posts. All except Sokka, who was only led to another room and told to wait. He sat queasily in the torchlight, and in the throes of guilt, he brooded over the truth that Miss Yue was not the spoiled heiress he had subconsciously characterized her to be. In his defense, there was no way he could've guessed the intricate politics of this place, but there was certainly no requirement for the heiress of Arnook's fortune to be bedecked with jewelry and priceless silks twenty-four hours a day.

Everything else came together, too; why she was wearing a shabby men's cloak when he first saw her (it was likely her father's old cloak based on the similar-looking robes Arnook had worn in his portraits). It also made sense why she was sleeping near a portrait of Arnook out in the hallway. She was battling with unprocessed grief, especially with Arnook's death being unrecognized. Sokka couldn't imagine wrestling with a truth that others didn't know, having no one around for solace. Having to accept the reality that what was thought to be was actually not.

And on top of that was Sokka's own sheer eloquence in communication. "You know how rich people are. Always acting like there's something up their asses."

He facepalmed, cursing himself. To think she was still grieving, and this was the yakshit he had spewed out?

He didn't have the time to dwell any further on this, for his distraction was dispelled by the presence of Zhao and Aziran, who both stepped inside with a seemingly important purpose. Sokka stood and bowed, keeping in mind Piandao's incessant reminders of outward obedience.

"You're coming with me," Zhao told him, subsequently leading him down an endless corridor where very few people could be seen. Sokka found that the corridor they were traversing was highly familiar only to realize that this was the path he had stumbled through last night to reach the eastern wing.

"You've been assigned to the Eastern Security Division, Mr. Ingiullik," Zhao's assistant told him. "You are now in charge of guarding Miss Atsanik until her marriage. Her quarters are here."

Sokka blinked at Zhao, surprised by the designation.

"This decision was made based on your performance yesterday," the firebender said. "So long as Miss Atsanik is indoors, you will be right next to her. And in the event that Miss Atsanik absolutely needs to go anywhere, you will be accompanied by four additional guards." Turning to him, "This is the most important position a member of our security personnel can have, and I cannot stress this enough. She is in need of careful supervision."

Careful supervision. The words and the businessman's tone didn't sit well with the Southern warrior, but he could do nothing but nod, not wanting to screw up the opportunity.

"You look like you've had very little sleep, Mr. Ingiullik," Aziran pointed out. "I would advise against taking up your duties without being well-rested. It's better for you to get some sleep and officially take up your duties this evening. You'll be guarding her through the night."

"Through the night?"

"If she's not guarded, she might escape."

"Escape?"

Zhao cast Aziran a brief glare before covering, "Well yes, unfortunately. I wouldn't say Miss Atsanik is mentally unstable, but maybe a little imbalanced," the businessman said, having traced out inklings of Sokka's suspicion. "She's going through something right now, and she's in a position where she might make decisions she otherwise wouldn't. She might even try to run away."

Sokka frowned, receiving repeated confirmation that this arrangement was more for their benefit than the heiress's, "Are you sure she's consenting to this marriage? Why would she run if she agreed to all of this?"

Aziran nearly dropped his notes, incredulously glaring at the tribesman's tone. Zhao raised his eyebrows.

"I'm only asking because it's my duty to look out for her," Sokka covered smoothly.

"Your duty is to only physically look out for her," Zhao corrected. "And if you must know, after her father left for treatment, Yue had been isolating herself. She's very attached to him and knows no other family than him. Master Arnook is over there worrying about her, and all of his stress is making him respond to treatment less and less."

Sokka didn't even bat an eye, knowing the part about Arnook's treatment was complete yakshit, but he was sympathetic to the fact that Arnook was the only family Yue had ever known, and what Sokka had perceived to be her exhaustion at first was really her devastation.

"Her closest friend was a maid who kept squeezing money out of her," Zhao added, "And after the loss of our business, Miss Atsanik hasn't been able to be so generous with the maids. So her friend abandoned her. Naturally, Miss Atsanik is…not able to handle that well. She's always been quite sensitive."

"Yes, yes," Aziran nodded, "She's the type to cry even when a rat-roach dies."

Zhao, pretending to be disheartened by the situation, "Yue needs love and companionship. She needs someone who will provide for her and take care of her. Someone who will take her as she is. Master Arnook would never expect anything less from the man she marries. That's why he chose Mr. Hahn Mimik."

"He chose this alliance?" Sokka asked.

"Of course he did. And what is also generous on Mr. Mimik's part is that he's willing to invest in our business and improve the situation, which will ultimately benefit the factory down South, too. Maybe even get you the compensations you crave down South." Looking at him, "So as you can tell, this is a very important transaction."

Transaction? Sokka's discomfort didn't change. Is that what they call a wedding around here?

"I believe I've given you more information than necessary. I expect you to be diligent in your duties now." And with that, Zhao stopped right when they reached the familiar arch entrance. He turned to Sokka, flashing him a look of awareness, "The heiress of Arnook's empire is a jewel to be protected. Without her, all is lost. So if she tries to run away, do not hesitate to restrain her. Do whatever you must to ensure that she doesn't leave. As you're very close to Piandao, a man I highly respect in spite of our differences, I've decided to give you complete discretion in this matter. And don't worry; I'll compensate you well."

Aziran noted the tribesman's alarmed look. Indeed, it didn't sound right at all to be told to restrain her. The assistant looked at Zhao, exchanging a wordless message. Zhao sighed, "Yue is like my very own, and as painful as it is for me to say this, the last thing I want is for her to make decisions she will regret. I don't want her to get hurt by trusting the wrong people."

Before a visibly uncomfortable Sokka could make any further comment, Zhao signaled the guards, who opened the doors of the archway entrance. The very few guards who were outside of those doors ceased to go beyond the entrance, and Sokka was once again greeted by an utterly empty eastern wing even during daylight.

"Miss Atsanik has requested to be escorted to the Tui-La Temple. For now, she will be escorted by the senior guards. Once she returns, you may take charge. Until then, make sure you are well-rested for the job. Aziran, alert the guards at once."

Aziran nodded, handing Sokka a scroll, "Also, please give this to Miss Atsanik. It's a portrait of her soon-to-be fiancé, Mr. Hahn Mimik." And he bowed to Zhao before leaving to discharge his allotted duties.

Zhao and Sokka soon rounded the corner of the corridor leading to the exact spot where Sokka had seen her last night. Yue was there, seated on the ground beside the bench. She still appeared tired, her eyes red and swollen as she slowly dusted off Arnook's portrait, which she had taken off of the wall and placed in her lap. Sokka softened his eyes, feeling a fierce tug at his heart.

"Miss Atsanik," Zhao addressed, catching her attention, "I want to introduce to you your bodyguard, Mr. Sokka Ingiullik. He will take up his duties starting now."

Sokka bowed in genuine respect, "It's an honor to meet you, Miss Atsanik."

Yue gave a nod of acknowledgment before going back to her dusting.

"I understand you haven't had the opportunity to see your future husband just yet," Zhao attempted to sound light, masking the thick discomfort in the air with false enthusiasm. "Mr. Hahn is quite handsome." He turned to Sokka, who placed the scroll on the bench beside the tribeswoman. Yue, however, disregarded the scroll as she stood up, placing her father's portrait back on the wall.

"I don't think you heard me the first time," Zhao began, but Yue was very well aware of the significance of the scroll, such that she didn't hesitate to plop the scroll in the flames of a nearby torch seconds later, unmoved. Zhao's near-death glare pierced her for a split moment, long enough for Sokka to subtly slide in front of the heiress, wearing an alert look as he blocked her from Zhao's view.

"I don't need to see it," Yue told him calmly. "I trust your judgment."

Zhao, aware of his rising temper, quickly dismissed it, letting out a breath. "Hahn arrived last night. He and his mother are expecting you to join them for lunch. It would be disrespectful to keep them waiting, so please hurry back."

Yue gave a somber nod, but the firebender's gaze lingered on her for a moment more before, "Escort her to the northern courtyard, Mr. Ingiullik. Yue, your gondola is waiting."

It wasn't until Zhao left that Sokka got the opportunity to speak to Yue in private. They wandered down the hall and headed for the northern courtyard in a direction led by Yue. Sokka found his throat drying up easily every time he opened his mouth to speak, so she took the liberty to go first.

"Did you receive the package I sent?" she asked.

"Yeah, I mailed it in," he nodded, his voice softer than he thought was possible. "Thank you."

Silence settled in again, Yue's tired gaze glued to the ground.

"W-Would you like a bigger coat, Miss Atsanik?" he asked, "I think there's gonna be a blizzard today."

"I'm fine," she said, continuing onward.

She was very graceful in her gait; she walked as if the ground would be offended if her feet pressed any harder against the ice. She was also very careful as she walked, making sure not to step on occasional Arctic ant-ipedes and scooping snow-beetles out of harm's way before they could be squished by passersby. Sokka found he could do nothing about the flutters in his chest; he simply gawked at her, his eyes dopey with fascination, hopeful with a genuine desire for friendship and camaraderie, worried from the surrounding circumstances.

"Miss Atsanik?" he began, proceeding when she flitted him a look, "I just wanna say I'm sorry for being a jerk. When I made that comment last night about rich people. I never meant any disrespect towards you. I didn't know you were Miss Atsanik, and I shouldn't have said what I said…"

Not meeting his eyes, "It's certainly not the first time I've encountered people who cared exclusively about statuses."

Softening his eyes, "Miss Atsanik—"

"I understand you have bitter experiences with the wealthy."

"But not with you. You're very kind and compassionate…"

She kept her face turned away, her eyebrows remaining furrowed.

"I'd like for us to be good friends, Miss Atsanik," he said. "I was thinking maybe… maybe we can start over?"

"Mr. Ingiullik—"

"You can call me Sokka, Miss Atsanik. No need to be formal with me—"

"You don't want to be friends with me, Mr. Ingiullik." Cutting off his incoming protest, "Certainly you didn't come all the way up North for my approval, and I'm not trying to seek yours. And once this marriage is over, you and I will go our separate ways, and we will never see each other again."

"Miss Atsanik, I really am sorry I was being insensitive," he persisted, "It was wrong of me to make judgments so quickly, and I-"

"Don't waste your time with apologies. I have more important things to worry about than getting onto people for silly things."

"It's not that you're trying to get back at me," he said patiently. "I really didn't expect you to be—"

"I didn't tell you who I was because I wasn't sure if you would accept my help if you knew. I didn't want my identity to ruin your grandmother's chance with a valuable treatment option. It's not meant to be a scheme to test you or rat you out. So please, don't try so hard to suck up to me while you're here. I hate such efforts."

"I don't suck up to people. It's not something I do," he said in all honesty. "I had great respect for you even before I knew who you were. I really did misunderstand you, and I'm sorry—"

"What you think of me is not my concern. You're here to do your job and be compensated for it. So do that. And feel free to never talk about this again."

The entire walk grew more silent from there with Yue finding the rippling, dust-laden tapestries far more fascinating than him and Sokka slamming his palm against his forehead, wanting to sink further and further into the ground until the tundra swallowed him whole. I'm such a fucking idiot.

The senior guards were sweating in torrents beneath the bone-chilling Arctic gusts when they informed Zhao that the heiress may have been sort of, kind of, a tad bit involved in a buffalo-yak carriage accident—

"She WHAT?!" Zhao raged.

"W-We were trying to m-make sure the area was clear—"

"And she was coming out of the temple—"

"And then there was a little girl who came out of nowhere, and she went into the street and was standing in the middle of the path—"

"And there was a buffalo-yak carriage headed her way, and the little girl didn't notice—"

"And the rider wasn't paying attention to the road—"

"And Miss Atsanik was afraid that something would happen to the girl and…well, she ran in front and… pulled her out of the way and…may have gotten hit in the process…"

And Zhao was continuously fuming — more so at the wasted opportunity for seating the heiress at the table with Hahn than anything else. He immediately took to firing the negligent guards. Sokka, who was informed through Piandao in the meantime, raced over to the northern courtyard entrance, where a group of healers had accompanied the heiress, helping her manage her wooden crutches.

"Oh my," Piandao widened his eyes at the heiress's condition. It appeared her left side took the hit harder than her right, given the cast around her left arm, left leg, and the bandaged left side of her head.

"That's it, Miss Atsanik, you're doing it! Keep going," one of the healers encouraged her, which only fueled the young woman's annoyance. In a spur of frustration, her grip on one of her clutches faltered, and she slipped, caught by Sokka before she could topple onto the floor.

"Careful, careful, Miss Atsanik, are you okay—?"

"I'm doing fine," she struggled to regain her balance. He tried to prop her up with his shoulder, but she was in too much pain to move forward any longer, failing repeatedly to get a grip and continuously falling into Sokka's arms. In a bout of frustration, she gave up and took a seat on the nearest bench just outside of the entrance, the biting winds chilling her skin. She kept her glare fixed on the ground, unwilling to let the healers help.

Sokka glanced at the flight of steps leading inside and knelt beside the tribeswoman, "Miss Atsanik, how about we get the healers to carry you up to your room—?"

"No need. I'll go in a few minutes."

Hesitant but still with good intentions, "If it's okay with you, may I…?"

"May you what?"

"I'm just trying to help," he said, his tone soft, "If you want, I can carry you to your quarters. There's too many stairs, and it'll be hard on you—"

"No need," she insisted. "I'll just stay here for a few minutes. It feels nice outside anyway."

"There's going to be a blizzard, Miss Yue. Please, it won't take long. We'll get there quickly, and you can get some rest—"

"How can you even suggest something like that?!" Zhao nearly boomed as he rushed outside, mortified to see the extent to which the woman was injured. "What in Agni's Heavens…?" Glaring at Sokka, "And look at you! Carrying her?! You think that's proper? She's to be engaged—!"

"She's hurt," Sokka glared.

"Of course she is," Zhao huffed at her, "What have you done, Miss Yue? This is exactly what I didn't want to happen! Hahn is waiting out there for you! You think he'd appreciate seeing his bride-to-be like this—?"

"And with all due respect, sir, who the fuck cares what he thinks?" Sokka hissed, shocking everyone present. "And if you had left me in charge, she wouldn't have gotten hurt like this. I would've dived in to save that child instead of standing around like a buffoon," glaring at the other guards, "and letting Miss Atsanik take that risk on her own. So maybe don't raise your voice at her and let me steer the gondola the next time she needs to go anywhere."

Zhao gave him a look of incredulous rage. Yue widened her eyes in shock, her heart racing with fear for the defiant tribesman's life, slapped with the image of Investigator Unquq drowning in his own pool of blood. Piandao facepalmed, The hell, Sokka?

"Are you looking to get kicked out on your first day, Mr. Ingiullik?" the firebender asked darkly.

"Pardon my language, but I'm only trying to do my job effectively."

At which Zhao was forced to let his rage simmer, especially in light of the numerous servants and guests who were starting to gather around. Maybe too effectively.

Yue kept gawking at Sokka, who once again held his hand out to her, his stern look dissipating when he blinked at her with all the patience in the world, "You sure you don't want my help, Miss Atsanik?"

She took his hand wordlessly, letting him pick her up in his arms, and he carried her effortlessly up the stairs.

"You mind giving me some direction, Miss Atsanik?" he asked, quiet and sheepish, "I'm still trying to figure out this place."

"Left," she merely said, turning around and looking over Sokka's shoulder. She spotted a genuinely displeased Zhao and a shuddering Aziran before the two of them went out of eyeshot.

Yue was many, many things.

If being recklessly compassionate was one, then being stubborn was another. She insisted that apart from the servants delivering meals, no one else was authorized to enter her wing of the mansion— servants and maids and other guards alike— even in the condition that she was in. If she had a choice, she would've forbidden Zhao and his minion from entering as well, more than willing to bask in solitude. She was perpetually tired and irritable, wearing a stubborn glare.

But by the Spirits, there were still some moments when even through her pain, Miss Yue made time for her beautiful smile — the kind that could make auroras bloom against a dark, moonless night— though it was reserved for the flowers by her bedside table, the penguin-sparrows that waddled in with their young through the windowsill and ate heartily off of her untouched plate. And of course, children, like the six-year-old girl whom she saved earlier, who held tightly onto her parents' hands as she and her family came by the mansion to see and thank Yue.

"You must be in a lot of pain," the girl's mother winced. "We really can't thank you enough, Miss Atsanik."

"Anyone else would've done what I did," Yue told the grateful parents.

"No, ma'am," the father shook his head, "Not everyone would have. Especially not someone of your influence."

"Influence," Yue mused, her smile dwindling slightly.

The girl, who was sniffing the bouquet that she had just given to Yue, looked up at the Moon Spirit-esque tribeswoman. Yue chuckled, "You can keep the flowers if you like them so much, sweetie."

"Yay!" The girl hugged the flowers close to her chest much to her parents' chagrin. As they kept coaxing the girl to surrender the flowers to the hurt tribeswoman, Yue was reminded of something; she reached into the drawer of her nearby dresser and pulled out a box, within which sat a glimmering bracelet with intricate silver designs that encapsulated little blue gemstones. She held the box out to the girl, whose eyes widened in wonder.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah!" the girl nodded, her eyes sparkling as she gazed shyly at Yue, "Is this for me?"

"It sure is," Yue said, using her free hand to clip the bracelet around the girl's wrist.

"Miss Atsanik, you shouldn't be doing this," the mother said as the little girl giggled happily, "We just wanted to come here and thank you, not receive any gifts!"

Yue smiled, "It's just a little something for her to remember me by."

And Sokka knew just by watching the tribeswoman that he was in trouble. Feeling all these foreign, protective, invested…well, feelings.

"I guarantee you'll eat more of the sea prunes this time, Miss Yue! I made sure to make it just the way you like it!"

Observing the smile and enthusiasm on the servant's face, Yue said nothing, overcome by burden. She shook her head, "I'm not hungry," and pulled out of her robe pocket a small pouch with currency in it, placing it in front of the maid.

"You're generous as always, Miss Yue!" the maid exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"

"It's not very much," Yue told her, watching the servant's smile dim immediately, "That's all I have. It's going to be difficult for me to be like I used to. This is very likely the last time I'll be able to give anything." Looking away, "Please tell your friends not to expect anything from me."

The maid barely held back a huff, "Oh, that's…that's quite alright…" And without a second to waste, the maid hastily walked away with the sea prunes and the money with her, not caring to put back the crutches that she knocked over on her way out.

Yue was not surprised by the reaction. Sokka, however, glared, "Well that's just disrespectful." He leaned forward and picked up the crutches, placing them where they originally were.

"You should go eat something, Mr. Ingiullik."

"I will. I'll also get someone to bring some snacks. In case you get hungry in the middle of the night. You didn't eat very much."

She didn't protest out of exhaustion, "I hear you and Master Piandao are close."

"Yeah, he's my swordmaster. He's like a dad to me."

"Oh," she acknowledged, "I would like to meet him at some point tomorrow. It's very important."

"Yeah, definitely. I'll bring him anytime you need to see him."

"I appreciate that." She reached for her crutches, and with his help, she left the leisure area and stepped into her bedchamber. On her bedside table was a small portrait of Arnook and Ahnah, both of them holding a chunky, giggling baby Yue, each proud parent kissing a chubby cheek.

Sokka smiled, "You were an adorable baby, Miss Atsanik."

She took a brief look at the portrait before settling against the sheets, "A word of advice, Mr. Ingiullik. Please don't ever talk to Mr. Zhao like that. I'm aware that this job is very important to you, and I don't want you to put yourself at risk of losing it."

Sokka looked at her for a moment before taking the liberty of asking, "Miss Atsanik…Are you really okay with all this?"

She eyed him curiously.

"You didn't care to see the scroll earlier, and you even burned it. That by itself would make anyone think you didn't have a choice in this…that you don't like any of this but there's nothing you can do about it, so there was no point in you looking at it…"

"The man's very wealthy," Yue blinked. "Isn't that enough? After all, we rich are never content with what we have—"

"I really didn't mean that about you, okay?"

"I don't care. If thinking that satisfies your doubts, be my guest. But do not pry me for answers."

"Well it doesn't satisfy me because I know you're not like that."

A defensive streak in her gaze, "You don't know me."

"Miss Atsanik, please, try to understand where I'm coming from. I don't mean to pry into your personal life, but this is serious stuff. You know, my Gran Gran loved a guy once. Got engaged to him and everything. And even after he found out that she was pregnant, he left her for a woman who had more money. My Gran Gran had to raise my dad all on her own, and nearly every day, she had to take yakshit from the entire village for what that jackass did."

Yue softened her eyes.

"The reason I'm telling you this…it's not something you don't already know. You shouldn't go through with marrying a jackass, especially when you know he's a jackass. All this Mimik guy seemed to care about was having you at lunch. He has to know that you're hurt by now, and he didn't even try to ask how you're doing. He's all upset 'cause he didn't get enough attention. And to tell you the truth, I don't trust Zhao one bit—"

"Shhhh!" she glowered, "Do you want to get fired?"

He blinked, taken aback.

"Go to your post, Mr. Ingiullik, and good night."

"Miss Atsanik," he sighed. "Just look at this picture," pointing to the portrait by her bed, "Anyone can see how much your parents love each other, how much they love you, how you're very happy and loved. You deserve a guy who's gonna wanna take a picture like this with you with your own little happy Yue one day…" His gaze darkening with worry, "But if you go through with the hell that I'm sensing here…your parents aren't gonna be happy to see you suffering. Wherever they are right now."

"My father was the one who arranged this for me. He knows best."

Seeing through the lie, "Well whoever arranged this…it would make your parents very upset if you went through with this."

Yue turned away before he could see her tears.

"You can talk to me about anything that's bothering you, Miss Yue. I'm here to help. Please don't hesitate to ask me for anything, okay?"

She closed her eyes, hardening her heart as much as she could. And all she could see in front of her was Minri's face, ridden with ecstasy as the maid fell to her knees and scooped up all the currency that Zhao had showered her with.

"How can you be this delusional, Miss Atsanik? You and I can never be friends."

"Your kind and my kind can never be anything."

"There is no friendship. Only money."

She shot her bloodshot eyes open, her rage fueling her. She reached into her drawer and placed a worn but gem-studded piece of jewelry in his hands.

"Here. For your services," she rasped. "I don't have actual money, but if you sell this in any of our markets, you'll get at least three hundred gold pieces. Next time you want money, just say so. Or even better, next time you need money, just take something from this room and sell it. You don't even have to ask. But don't waste your time and mine by pretending like you give a rat's ass about me. I told you I hate suck-ups." Looking away, "You may go back to your post."

Sokka gave her a long look, appearing more sad than offended. "I'm not like that maid from earlier, Miss Atsanik." He placed the artifact back in her palms, keeping his tone soft, "Get some rest. If you need anything, just holler. I'll be right out."

Yue's glare did not subside until he left. She placed aside the trinket, leaning back against the sheets. She gazed at the portrait, her throat stinging.

"I won't fight this," Yue looked up through her tears, glaring at Zhao. "I won't fight any of this. I just need to clear my father's name. I need to give those innocent families what they need."

Zhao resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Ugh, the melodrama."

"I couldn't save my father. I won't be able to keep and nourish his company. The least I can do is save his name and honor," Yue persisted. "I can't have people believe he was unjust and corrupt. I need to show the world that he's not a horrible man."

"And in doing so, you're going to throw me under the sleigh," Zhao raised an eyebrow.

"No, no," she shook her head, "I won't disclose anything about you to anyone. I won't plan any escapes. I don't need a single copper piece for myself. I will put my entire future in your hands, and you can dispose of it as you wish. All I need are the funds I have to send to those families. All I need is to have them authorized under my father's name. And I need them actually sent."

Zhao thought for a long moment, eyeing the tribeswoman's trembling form up and down, "Very well. Since it's money that you immediately need, and since it's the company that I ultimately need, we can arrange a deal with Hahn. He has the power to triple these business prospects. After all, all he needs from you are a few nights' worth of your time."

"I thought you said he wanted to marry me."

"Well yes, but his original intention was just sleeping with you for a few nights."

"I'm not going through with this improperly," she hissed, "If he must touch me…he will do so in honorable circumstances. I'm not giving up on all of my pride."

"Yes, yes, the pride thing," he drawled. "I knew you'd have an issue with it. I could just force you into sleeping with him but why take the trouble? So I conveyed this nonsense to him. Told him, 'What am I supposed to do when she wants to be your plaything forever? Why limit yourself to a few nights when you can have her every night?' And you'd be surprised how quickly he agreed to a marriage. Besides, this way, we can also utilize the bride price."

"The bride price is mine," Yue reiterated. "The company is yours. You will not touch any of the proceeds from my bride price, and I will surrender all rights of the company to you without any issues."

"Fine, fine," Zhao gave an amused smile. "I must say, this deal is unparalleled. One can charge millions for a figure like yours, Yue. I'm not at all worried."

Yue straightened her father's cloak around herself in spite of many layers of clothing, hopelessly believing it would guard her physique from Zhao's prying eyes.

"But you're going to have to put your ethics aside for this and let yourself be bought. Can you handle that?"

She looked at her father's portrait, her entire being warring with herself as she swallowed her shriek of protest and nodded. "As long as I get my money, I'm not pulling any stunts. Shutting people up with money shouldn't be hard for you to do. So do it."

"Well then," he leered, circling the shaky woman for a moment, "Doll yourself up, dearest."

Yue let all of her suppressed sobs escape at once and rattle the bed, her tears quickly soaking through Arnook's cloak.