"If you would've blinked then I would've looked away at the first glance."

A warm breeze pushes small waves across the bay, the last of the cherry blossoms falling loose from the trees lining the path to the beach. Spring has arrived earlier than normal, leaving the inhabitants of Ember Island desperately excited for the fierce summer heat.

Ursa closes her eyes and breathes deeply, her chest straining against the tight fabric of her gown. She stops when she meets resistance and sharp metal pushes into her throat. She brushes her fingers against the ornamental choker. After a few moments, she takes a final look at the beach and turns back towards the path to town.

Her family has resided at an estate on Ember Island since the last days of winter in anticipation of the warmer months. As the weather improved, more and more Fire Nation nobility made their way to the island to enjoy the theatre, beaches, and lavish parties. Families would display their daughters for courtship and their sons for social elevation. If a young woman were tactful enough and came from the right family, she may leave the island engaged by the end of the summer.

Ursa considers this as she leaves the beach. They had spent every summer on this island for as long as Ursa could remember, but it was only recently that the tone had begun to shift. Instead of messy afternoons playing in the ocean followed by cool drinks and reading in the sun, she was paraded around parties and elaborate dinners, dressed in fine gowns and jewels normally saved for special occasions. Rather than spending time with her family, she was introduced to strangers with eyes more probing and direct than she was comfortable with. She feels a pang of longing in her stomach as she remembers the comfortable intimacy of summers past.

As the afternoon fades into evening, lanterns are lit and people mingle in the streets. Delicate perfumes mingle with scents of sea air, bursts of high-pitched laughter following deep tones of flattery. Ursa scans the crowd for her parents. They had planned to meet her at the dragon statues near the theater, and then to make their way to a dignitary's party for the evening. It was an easily recognizable and central location on the island, but she had stayed at the beach far longer than she meant to.

Ursa grips her fan tightly until her knuckles turn white. The island is small but mostly unfamiliar to her, there are few places she has been unaccompanied by a chaperone. If she only knew where she was meant to be, she could venture there on her own. Her brow furrows, remembering the warnings she had already been given by her parents.

"The estate is one matter," her mother had said, "but social engagements… it's not done."

Once I'm married, she thinks, I can have all that again. I won't need to court anymore, I'll have a home, a family. The comfort this thought provides is brief.

The sun disappears behind the sloped roof of the theater, and Ursa's confidence along with it. She wonders if she could find her way back to the estate, or if she should ask a stranger for directions. Paralyzed by indecisive anxiety, she stands rooted in place.

She looks down at her hands and frowns, holding back tears of frustration and fear when she sees she has crumpled her fan beyond repair.

"Are you alright?"

Ursa jumps and drops the fan in surprise. The young man before her looks down before she can glimpse his face. He bends to retrieve the fan, then straightens, fastening his gaze upon her.

His face is set sternly, but one eyebrow is raised in concern. He is dressed modestly; no ornaments or filagree beyond a simple belt, but Ursa can see the quality of the fabrics and craftsmanship that betrays nobility. Her brow furrows in confusion.

"I believe this is yours, though you may need a replacement," He says, his eyes not leaving hers. His eyes are a deep amber, with something lurking behind them she could not quite place. She nods silently and realizes how long she has been staring at him. Her eyes drop demurely to her fan, taking it and quickly hiding her hands within her sleeves.

"Thank you," she says quietly. The young man looks around at the street, now almost empty, then towards the deep orange sunset.

"Are you on your way somewhere? Perhaps I can escort you," He offers his arm to her. "If you would allow me." She hesitates before answering. He is a stranger, but clearly of social standing comparable to her own, making him obligated to offer her respect. After a moment, she allows herself to smile and bows her head.

"I would be honored," she says and takes his arm timidly. As he leads her down the street, she cannot help but notice the corner of his mouth twitch as if concealing a smile.

The walk is short, but to Ursa, it feels like an eternity. She holds his arm lightly but can feel his powerful arms flexing beneath his sleeves. His presence, though unfamiliar to her, exudes a comforting confidence.

"Where can I escort you?"

"To the home of Admiral Sato, I've been invited to a party there to meet his son."

"His son is very fortunate to have earned such an introduction," he says, his voice low. Ursa blushes and looks away.

Stars are beginning to shine through the oranged-tinged clouds when they finally arrive at the doorstep of Admiral Sato. Ursa can see her parents through the window, speaking with a man she doesn't know, their faces lined with worry.

"I should go inside, my parents must be so angry with me." She turns to her escort and bows deeply. "Thank you so much for bringing me here, I'm not sure what I would have done without you."

"May I have the pleasure of your name?" He asks politely. Ursa straightens instantly and flushes red with embarrassment.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, that was unforgivably rude. I hope you can forgive me. My name is Ursa." She smiles, "May I have yours? I must thank you properly."

This time, he smiles fully, and a small laugh escapes him. Ursa's smile falters at the expression. He reaches for her hand and pulls it to his face. His lips brush gently against her fingers, sending goosebumps up her arms.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Ursa." He releases her hand, turns on his heel, and departs without another word. Ursa stands on the doorstep for several minutes before her parents see her, and usher her inside with cries of relief.

His smile lingers in her mind, and she can't decide why it makes her feel so uncertain.