AN: Thanks for reading! And reviewers, thank you for reviewing! And Guest, waddaya mean you rec'ed my fic to Zuko himself? Are you talking about Dante Basco? Is there a possibility that that dear human being, who was also Rufio and was also in But I'm A Cheerleader, might see something i made? *faints*

Some folks asked about Sokka - but don't you worry! We're getting back to him!

She'sEverybody'sVigilante, good eye on the protocol thing. That's coming, too. :)

Thank you again, so much, for taking the time to review. I know it's not always easy to do, and if you're anything like me, it takes time to organize your thoughts and recall all your favorite things, and all the stuff that stood out. It means the world to me, though. So thank you!

Edit: I forgot a thing! This is what happens when I post late at night...

.


The next day, after Katara had sat brooding over her morning tea, Yotsu arrived. It had never happened before, so Katara wasn't sure what it meant, or what the maids whispered about as they adorned her in the plain but high quality silks she had come to perceive as normal. Then she was shunted out the door and hustled, with Yotsu ahead and Roshu following at a short distance, around several corridors until they rounded a final corner and Katara found herself staring at Zuko.

He wore a dark tunic with a stiff, high collar and rich yellow trim - still formal, always formal, but not so ornate as what he had worn at the party. Katara focused on what their level of dress might mean about where they were going rather than look at his face. Still, she could feel his frown as he watched her approach.

He did not speak. Instead, he turned on his heel and began marching away. At a subtle gesture from Yotsu, Katara hastened to follow. She fell in two steps behind him, as was proper for a slave.

Zuko led the way out of the palace by the massive front entrance and descended the broad open stair to a waiting palanquin. Katara followed and allowed the attendants to guide her to her place, a lower level to one side of and slightly behind the large platform. Zuko assumed his seat at the center, elevated by a few inches and surrounded by cushions that his rigidly straight spine did not touch. The gauzy curtains were released to obscure the passengers from view and then the bearers hefted the palanquin from the ground and hustled off at a brisk pace.

Katara watched the passing city, trying to pretend she was untroubled by the silence within the veils. From the corner of her eye, she spied Roshu following still, part of a small contingent of guards. Zuko did not speak or even, as far as she could tell with her eyes averted, look at her. It should have been a relief not to speak to him, but it only made her more tense.

They took a turn onto an avenue with fine houses lining both sides, the tiles of their curved roofs all the same deep red-brown. The houses and grounds grew larger as they proceeded, until each house was palatial in its own right, separated from its neighbors by wide expanses of courtyards and gardens and manicured woodlands.

At last, they turned down a long drive that climbed the wall of the crater and approached a house half-hidden behind a well-tended stand of trees. They arrived before large double doors, already opening to receive them. Zuko climbed down from the palanquin the moment it settled. Again, Katara followed without a word. To her surprise, Roshu remained with the other guards in the drive. When she stole a backward glance at him, he was watching her with a disgruntled but resigned air.

Servants in livery incrementally less fine than those of the palace ushered Zuko to a tasteful sitting room, where a man in resplendent robes stood waiting, ready to bow the instant Zuko stepped over the threshold.

"Your highness! I am most honored by your visit!"

Zuko did not bow. Katara gazed blankly at the floor by his boot and supposed that princes were too good for petty shows of courtesy.

"Lord Gan," he said, and no more.

Lord Gan smiled, resuming his full height. He was a man of middling years with no hint of grey in his brown hair and, Katara noticed absently, a ring on every other finger. "Please, sit with me and enjoy the view of my humble grounds," he said, gesturing toward the two chairs arranged side by side to face the open side of the room.

Much like the panels in Katara's apartment, the wall had been slid aside to reveal the manicured slope and, beyond, a view of the city. The breath caught in her throat at the sight. At a distance, the reds and browns were gentled and the hard edges softened by the humid morning air. It was lovely, for such an awful place. She looked away from the sight quickly, fighting a scowl.

Zuko settled into one chair but did not sit back. He didn't even slouch. Katara assumed the proper position behind his left shoulder and, from the corner of her eye, watched him frown out at the sloping landscape. "A pleasing outlook," he said, his tone as rigid as his posture.

Lord Gan settled into the other seat. "My thanks, your highness, but I can hardly take credit. I patronize a little company from the lower city that only employs veterans of Azulon's war. I find the view infinitely improved by the satisfaction of supporting a good cause."

"Veterans," Zuko said quietly.

"Yes, your highness. It is most unfortunate, the way our veterans are treated when their service has rendered them too damaged to function in Fire Nation society. But my opinions on such matters are widely known - and come across rather dull next to tales of wartime heroics. I should not wish to bore you."

Zuko's silence stretched and, even though Katara couldn't see his face, she could tell his frown had only deepened. "It seems your opinions are not known to me."

"A rare opportunity for me, then! I have thoroughly exhausted all of my acquaintances on the topic, but if your highness has no objection, I would be delighted to… go on and on, as my wife puts it."

"On the contrary," Zuko said, turning an assessing look on the noble, "I'd like to hear what you have to say."

"Excellent! Then let us have refreshments to accompany our dry talk."

With a wave of his hand, Lord Gan summoned a servant with a tea tray. The placid-faced woman who settled it on the table between the two chairs lifted the pot with uncommon grace and filled the two cups, then bowed and hastened from the room.

Lord Gan was already fully engrossed in his talk of slums and a "homeless presence" in Harbor City, and he showed no signs of letting up. He spoke so rapidly that Katara had trouble keeping up when he moved on to taxes and percentages and resources. Zuko, to her surprise, seemed fully prepared for this conversation. He asked unexpected questions and offered up some statistics that Katara was fairly sure he had not made up.

"…so you do see why I say the numbers suggest that the situation is improving." He met the noble's eye as he spoke. "The instances of veterans reported to be living in the streets has gone down. That's the definition of improvement. How can you still claim the situation is out of control?"

"Forgive my obstinence," Lord Gan said, sitting back easily in his chair, "but how do you explain that figure when, by all accounts, government-funded support has been cut almost in half over the past eight years? More Fire Nation citizens serve overseas now than ever before, and yet the number of injured survivors to return has reduced. Assuming the numbers are being reported correctly, and that conditions and practices of war have not changed drastically in the past decade, where did all of the wounded veterans go?"

Zuko looked away from the older man to frown out at the city and, for a long moment, said nothing.

At length, Lord Gan resumed describing his pending proposal for some kind of oversight on some bureau with a long name that was confusingly similar to a different bureau he had mentioned earlier. Katara struggled to follow the flow of the conversation, frowning down at the tea tray as she focused on their voices, until Zuko set down his empty cup with a slightly-too-loud tap.

And, just like that, Katara realized why she was here. Forgetting herself, she flashed a glare at the back of Zuko's head, then bent to refill both cups. She tugged back her sleeve and bent her wrist as the glimmer crane bends its neck to drink, and grasped the handle as she would the hand of a child, and all the rest of it.

It was only when she settled the pot back in its place, spout carefully positioned, that she realized Lord Gan had paused his latest monologue. His eyes were fixed on her wrist, narrowed slightly in thought. Suddenly embarrassed, Katara snatched her hand away from the teapot.

"Something weighing on your mind, Lord Gan?"

Zuko's voice cut the silence like the slow slide of a very sharp knife. Even with her eyes averted, Katara could see how he watched the noble. She could see Lord Gan's nervous smile.

"I was merely marveling at the honor you do me," he said, so smoothly that Katara thought perhaps she had been mistaken about this man being nervous. "An exotic princess to pour my own tea, in my own home. And yet-" His teeth flashed in a faint grin- "despite her dainty wrists and fetching blush, I cannot help but recall that this is the very same bender from the lake, standing at my back to serve, while your highness entices me to speak openly of my beliefs on a topic that has become rather… incendiary of late. Were I at all a secretive man, I should be hard pressed one way or another to keep my head."

Katara watched, hardly daring to breathe as a stiff silence fell. Zuko held the noble's gaze and neither man moved for a long beat.

From outside, there came a distant sound of a small child laughing. Lord Gan's smile returned, broad and bright. "Luckily for me, I strive for right action and live my life in the light of day. Might I prevail upon you to meet my wife and son, Prince Zuko?"

"Thank you-" Zuko rose from his chair, and Lord Gan followed suit- "but I have to go. Another time."

"Of course! I should think you hardly have a moment to rest. It seems everyone I speak to has an appointment with your highness, or is making some attempt to gain your ear."

"Yes… The Minister of the Royal Household informs me that my days are booked through the next four weeks."

"Then I shall understand if you are forced to decline my next invitation - although, I do very much look forward to talking with you again, Prince Zuko." He paused in Zuko's path, meeting his eye with a slight duck of his chin. "It would be my honor to welcome you back to my home."

"I'll remember that." Zuko's eyes locked with the noble's once more, and Katara frowned faintly, trying to grasp what wasn't quite being said. There were no hints, though, and the moment soon passed.

Lord Gan saw them back to the drive and saluted with a single upraised hand as they climbed into the palanquin and rode away. Katara sat in silence until they emerged on the street once more, then turned to fully look at Zuko.

"What was that all about?"

"Politics," he said absently, still frowning straight ahead.

"Tea and loaded silences and using me as a… I don't even know - a distraction? A threat? That's just politics?"

Zuko amped up his frown and turned it on her. "Yes. It is. And if you don't like your role in it, that's tough. You don't get to choose your duty."

Katara stared back at him for a tenuous moment, somehow still surprised that he could be so callous. Finally, she snatched her gaze away and stared out at the fine houses all tidy in a row. There was an enormous pressure behind her eyes but she swallowed it back. She refused to cry in front of him.

"It's not so easy, is it?" Zuko asked, quiet and furious. "Choosing your people over your own selfish feelings."

Katara did not look back at him, and she did not think about how he might mean to do more than hurt her with the question. "It's not fun, but it'd be a whole lot less horrible if you would quit being so cruel."

"I'm cruel." Zuko let out a breathless, mirthless laugh. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Katara held to the silence, wrapping her arms loosely around her middle. At length, Zuko turned back to face the front. He scowled at his knee for a moment, then straightened and went on in a less nasty tone.

"A lot gets worked out in tea rooms. Nobles don't always want to air grievances in an open setting, where everything they say goes into the peerage's personal record books. Nobles like Gan want to meet me to see where I stand on their interests and whether I'll be useful to them in swaying my father to their causes." He let out a deep breath. "It's actually good that you're going with me because these people need every chance to see you following through with your oath."

Katara's mouth twisted, but she didn't speak. This wasn't just about how she was perceived, and Zuko knew that. Lord Gan had as good as said it. This was about Zuko showing off his domesticated waterbender, and intimidating nobles with her power, which was his power, because she was his possession.

It did not occur to her that this arrangement might not have been his idea to begin with.

Katara only glowered through the veil at the sun-drenched city. Then the palanquin took a turn and her stomach fell.

"We aren't going back to the palace," she said, half asking and half despairing.

"Other appointments," Zuko said grimly. He paused, glancing sideways at her, and unclenched his jaw. "Look, this isn't fun for me, either. Just… pour the tea and let me focus."

Katara shut her eyes, guessing the number of hours until midday, until night. All of them she would spend trapped beside and slightly behind Zuko, pouring his tea and listening to his impenetrable conversations while rich strangers stole glances at her. The thought was enough to make her a little ill.

She fumbled at a fold in her tunic and slid her fingers to the hidden pocket where she kept her mother's necklace and Sokka's severed wolftail. Since Sian's dismissal, she had not trusted that the items were safe in the apartment, and had invested a lot of energy into keeping them concealed from her maids.

Now, as her fingers closed into a fist around the lock of hair and the ribbon, she felt the power of conviction return. She wouldn't give up. For Sokka, and Aang and Toph, and for her people. She could do this. She would.

When she opened her eyes, Zuko had turned to face her fully, a doubtful frown tugging his aristocratic features downward all around the unchanging mass of his scar. Katara sniffed and raised her chin.

"Of course, your highness. No distractions here."

Zuko frowned at her a moment longer, then looked ahead. He let out another barely audible sigh, and his shoulders incrementally relaxed. Katara sat stiff and straight in place and pretended she had not seen the perspiration dotting his temples.

.


.

After the final appointment of the day, Zuko made his way back to the library, where he reviewed the material from his early-morning lesson and read the sections of books Master Tak had left out for him to look over. He returned to his rooms late in the night, only to receive an unnecessarily long report from Pokui about more minor staffing rearrangements. After that, his servants came to remove his stiff outer robes and fill his basin with water and turn down his sheets.

At last, truly alone for the first time all day, Zuko half-heartedly splashed his face and neck and finally fell upon his bed. He pressed his face into the pillow, blocking out the dim glow of the lamp, but not the memory of her eyes, burning holes in the back of his neck.

She hated him, hated him. He had suspected before, but hearing the words made it real. Knowing for certain made it agonizing to sit just feet away from her, to see her eyes cast down, at anything but him. Given the choice, Zuko would have left her to her apartment and gone about his duties alone - but just like Katara, he didn't have a choice.

Ozai wanted the Fire Court - and in particular the known and suspected dissidents among them - intimately aware of the powerful weapon the Crown Prince commanded. That was why Zuko was traveling the city to the homes of the most influential, courteously arguing the Fire Lord's case while Katara stood behind him like a loaded catapult. It was no surprise that Lord Gan had seen through to the threat, but that he had openly remarked on it was unexpected. Zuko had no doubt that he was hiding something, and speculations about Gao and all of the other nobles he had met with today preyed on his exhausted mind.

His thoughts had just quieted when the bedroom door scraped faintly. For a far-off, drowsy second, Zuko imagined that it was Katara, come to hover behind him, hating him even in his sleep.

But of course, she would not spend a second more in his presence than was required of her.

An instant after the thought occurred to him, Zuko launched to his feet and assumed a bending stance beside his bed. Azula stood casually leaning against the door frame, looking faintly amused.

"Expecting an assassin?"

Zuko straightened from his fighting stance, but he did not relax. "What do you want, Azula?"

"It's a lucky thing for you that I'm not interested in seeing you dead." She examined her nails as if imagining his blood under them in any case. "But I can't promise that I won't change my mind. You do have a terrible habit of making me look bad when I try to do you a favor."

Zuko shut his eyes for a second and rubbed the aching place where his forehead had been wrinkling all day. He had almost forgotten his slip at the party. "I didn't mean to just blurt it out like that-"

"You're my brother, Zuko. All's forgiven."

The look she fixed him with, though, told him that this wasn't actually forgiven. Not at all.

"I came to tell you that I took the liberty of delaying the prison transfer for a few more days. A messenger hawk arrived while you were out drumming up a social life." Azula peered at him with hooded eyes, the tiniest smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. "It seems Uncle has gotten himself captured trying to commandeer your rusty old steamer."

Zuko did not move, but he felt as if he was suddenly falling. Some of his shock must have shown because Azula's smirk bloomed fully.

"His Water Tribe allies abandoned him when they realized the fight was hopeless. Sad, really, that one of the Fire Nation's greatest tactical minds could slip so far in old age."

Zuko blinked and frowned. It didn't sit right with him that Hakoda and the others would flee and leave a friend behind… but how much of a friend was Iroh to them in any case?

Azula watched him, eyes sharper than any hawk's. "Unless you suspect some treachery?"

"No." Zuko did not fidget, and he did not blink, but he couldn't escape the feeling that Azula read something from his face that he did not want her to see. "When will they arrive?"

"The day after tomorrow. Then Uncle and your Water Tribe hostage can share a convoy out to the Boiling Rock." She turned and stood in the threshold, pausing to look back as if a final thought had just occurred to her. "Perhaps no one has told you, but you're looking a little rough around the edges, Zuzu. You have the biggest circles under your- well, circle under your eye, I suppose." She smirked as she withdrew from the room. "Don't neglect your sleep, brother."

Zuko stood by his bed long after the door shut behind her, and when he was certain Azula was gone, he began to pace.

.


.

Katara climbed the massive stairs of the formal entrance to the palace, maintaining two steps below Zuko, as ever. For three days now, she had followed him through an unending schedule of informal teas, minor public appearances, and royal audiences. The last were her favorite, because they stayed in the cool royal receiving hall, away from the scorching sun and stuffy palanquins, and there was no tea to pour. But no matter where they went or what they were doing, it was still expected that Katara bow her head with placid comportment. And so, with all the determination she could muster, she sat beside and slightly behind Zuko all day, each day, and fulfilled the terms of her oath.

Since their talk in the palanquin, she had not spoken to him and he had not spoken to her. They had ridden throughout Caldera and walked the corridors of the palace to his appointments, always endeavoring not to look at each other. It was as if they had secretly agreed on it.

A part of Katara still wanted to tell him what an incredible jerk he was, but she couldn't help being a little relieved as their silent truce settled in like packed snow. Silence was a kind of freedom when the only words she could speak were a slave's words, and when she could only speak them in a slave's quiet voice. Katara wrapped herself in a protective mask and layers of formality as concealing as the layers of silk she wore, and she waited.

It was near midday, so she expected to return to her rooms for the usual brief lunch. To her surprise, as she followed Zuko through the main entryway, he took a sudden turn. Katara hesitated. Behind her, she heard Roshu rumble quietly.

"Keep up, Princess."

Zuko paused in the broad corridor he had turned down and looked back at her. Katara met his stare by accident, and her stomach gave an immediate lurch. Perhaps it was the weariness written clearly on his face - a thing never hinted at by his unflagging posture or his alert conversation at appointments - or perhaps it was the carefully neutral expression he wore.

Of course, any expression that wasn't a flavor of anger was bound to be jarring by now. Katara lowered her eyes and stifled the urge to curl her lip. Zuko gestured with his chin toward the corridor, turning to keep walking even as he spoke.

"Come on."

Katara followed him into an unfamiliar part of the palace. They climbed a sweeping stair into one of the towers and, halfway down a final corridor, a startled-looking attendant opened a door for them.

"Miss Bei Fong," Zuko said as he entered. "I hope you'll excuse the intrusion."

Katara snapped upright and stared. Sitting with her elbows on the low table in the middle of the room, her unseeing eyes wide with shock, was Toph. She straightened up slowly, and when she spoke, her voice flickered between piping incredulity and the high, uncertain tone of a little blind girl.

"Prince Zuko? What are- I mean, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"As an esteemed hostage of high standing, you are entitled to certain acts of regard," Zuko recited smoothly. "I've come to pay my respects to the scion of an old and much-respected house. Please allow me to attend you at lunch." He turned his attention briefly to the maid stationed in the room and sent her to procure a meal. Then he strode across the room and sat at the table across from the little earthbender.

Toph's eyes narrowed, and her ears shifted slightly as she listened to the sounds of the room.

Katara hesitated, very aware of Roshu guarding the door behind her, then followed Zuko. She fixed her eyes on her proper place, to one side and behind him, and heat flared through her face. Sitting in a slave's place in front of Toph, even though everyone knew it was all for appearances' sake, suddenly filled her with virulent shame.

But, as she approached, Zuko stopped her with a look she chose not to meet.

"Sit with us."

It was quiet, but it was a command. Katara wasn't sure whether to be relieved or angry, and for a second only succeeded in frowning at the floor.

"Who's that?" Toph turned her head slightly, trying to get a fix on the people in the room.

"Princess Katara is joining us for this special occasion," Zuko said flatly.

"Katara?" Toph squeaked, and the smile that burst onto her face made all the frozen parts in Katara thaw at once.

She sat down hard on the bare floor next to Toph's cushion and threw her arms around her friend. The earthbender stiffened for a second, then hugged her back with a whisper into her shoulder.

"Someone else is here."

"Just Roshu." Katara sniffed and held tighter to her friend's smaller frame, whispering even more softly. "I'm so glad you're okay. When you didn't come, I knew something was wrong. We have to-"

Zuko cleared his throat. He sat across the table from them, watching with a faintly annoyed frown. Katara shot him a dirty look, but she released Toph and sat back to put a little distance between them.

A furrow formed in Toph's brow and she narrowed her eyes as if listening to something no one else could hear. Listening to them. Katara felt another flush of embarrassment.

"How has your stay been?" Zuko asked after a beat of awkward silence. "Are you comfortable?"

"Are you kidding? I've never had it so good. I thought we had nice stuff back home, but this stuff-" Toph gave him a slightly sinister grin. "This is some real nice stuff."

"Yeah," Zuko said quietly, "I've heard about your new-found appreciation for blown glass. Azula tells me that you've accidentally dropped enough artisan works to double your ransom."

"How am I supposed to enjoy them aesthetically if I don't pick them up and hold them?" She waved a hand in front of her face.

Katara grinned at that innocent voice, at the idea of Toph breaking anything accidentally. "Yeah, I mean, she's blind. You can't really blame her for a few knick-knacks."

She turned back to find Zuko watching her with a distant look on his face. She could not have guessed, because he gave no outward sign of it, but a terrible ache lanced through him as he watched her smile wilt at the sight of him.

"No," he conceded quietly. "I can't."

Katara felt her smile fade, and looked away, looked down. This had been normal not so long ago, but it was too strange and too painful to try and behave normally. It was impossible to force out weak jokes and pretend that things had not irrevocably changed. She turned back to Toph, who had that intense listening expression on her face again.

The maid returned with a light lunch of noodles and chopped vegetables in a salty, spicy sauce. It was good, but Katara picked at hers, preferring instead to chat with Toph once the maid was gone again. Zuko was quiet after he dismissed her, pretending to be wholly focused on his food. Katara was wise to the pretense, but she let herself try and forget that he was there anyway. She told Toph about the garden and the city and then, in slightly veiled language, about the full moon party.

Toph snorted at one point, though she had been careful to mostly remain a proper lady in front of Roshu. In an undertone, she murmured, "I'll bet you scared the starch out of their fussy britches, didn't you?"

"Well." Katara smiled wistfully. "Maybe a little."

"A lot, actually."

She did not look up at Zuko when he spoke, but the pleasure drained from her face. He had to have seen - he was looking at her, had been looking at her through most of the meal - but he still went on.

"If any among the Fire Court had convinced themselves that waterbending was a weak art, Katara's demonstration set them straight."

Katara grew hot-faced and frowned down at her plate. He sounded pleased, righteous, and she couldn't help thinking how it had been his decision, not hers, to put on that display. It had been his command, his idea, his bid for power by inspiring fear. Katara had only been his tool.

To Zuko, watching her duck her head and blush angrily, she looked as if she was refusing to accept what little progress they had managed on her behalf. He glared at her, confused and frustrated by her unreasonable expectations.

Toph's eyes narrowed as she listened to the silence. Her mouth twisted to one side. "Help a blind girl out, your highness. The Princess is either gloating really quietly - which is pretty unlike her - or she didn't have fun at the party at all. Why is that?"

Katara could feel Zuko's glare on her, but she refused to look at him. Instead, she gazed blankly down at the uneaten food before her. Zuko let out an irritated breath. "The only people having fun at that party were the nobles who drank and talked all night. It wasn't supposed to be fun."

"Besides," Katara put in quietly, looking at Toph and pointedly not Zuko. She spoke carefully but could not keep the bitterness entirely from her voice. "Slaves don't have fun. It's improper."

Toph blinked straight ahead, then scoffed. "Right. Okay. I get it. You-" She snapped up a hand to point in Zuko's general direction- "have got to-"

"Go," Zuko interrupted sharply. "Yes. I have many appointments this afternoon, including a very significant audience. But I have a gift for you, first."

He sent Roshu - who stepped out into the corridor to send a footman - to summon Yotsu. As the Lieutenant was leaving, Katara stole a glance up at Zuko and noted the tension on his face. Toph just rolled her eyes and, while they were alone, grabbed Zuko's wrist where it rested on the table. Katara stared, a little surprised by the sudden contact.

"Listen here, Prince Noodle-head. You think you can make Katara all quiet and miserable and then bribe me into ignoring it?"

He glowered at her hand and tugged his wrist but her grip didn't slide. "Stop it. You're going to blow our cover."

"Don't be such a lily-liver. Tell Katara you're sorry."

"For what?" He hissed through his teeth, half glaring at her and half watching the door. "For doing what I have to do to get her out of here? For making her miserable? Of course she's miserable! I'm miserable! Duty isn't supposed to be a good time."

"This is about more than duty and you know it."

The door creaked as Roshu returned and Toph instantly unhanded Zuko. They both sat perfectly straight, the very picture of young nobility on a social call. Katara watched it all with her heart in her throat. Toph, however, just gave a tittering laugh.

"And how well we all know that it is the onus of the mighty to see to the wellbeing of those under our care. Classic noblesse oblige."

"Noblesse oblige." Zuko frowned, lofty and unhappy. "Thank you, Miss Bei Fong, for that… thoughtful recitation."

"Anytime, your highness," Toph replied through her smiling teeth.

Servants arrived bearing a narrow litter, to which was rigged a large golden box with a small clock face. Katara took one look and sat transfixed in wonder and distaste. It was garish and ornate, with many tiny golden figures lined up in rigid rows. The servants - it took four to carry the weight and the stout litter sagged between them - bent as one to settle the hefty burden in a space near the wall that Yotsu deemed appropriate.

"My gift," Zuko said, though his grandiose tone fell a bit flat. "This clock was a prized possession of King Bau, who ruled the western Earth Kingdom seventy-three years ago. My great grandfather defeated him and claimed the clock as a prize of war. Now, I give it to you, Miss Bei Fong. May its chime recall to you the proud history of your people."

As if on command, the clock struck the hour. The gears within began an additional whir and the sweet plucked notes of a song emerged. Several of the little square figures on the front of the clock twirled in an intricate dance in time with the music, then all went still in their original places.

Toph's smile had faded to a grimace as the tune plunked along. "You shouldn't have."

"By all means," Zuko said, only a little dryly, "feel free to… enjoy it aesthetically. This piece of art won't break, and I doubt you could knock it over. You see-"

Toph had climbed to her feet and made her way over with her fingers outstretched. The instant she touched the metal surface, her unseeing eyes widened.

"-the case is made of solid gold."

Katara stared, as taken aback as Toph. Her stare slipped unbidden to Zuko, who sat across the table, one corner of his mouth tugging slightly upward as he watched Toph realize what his gift meant.

It was her escape. He was giving her a tool she could use to break out of these rooms, and he had done it boldly and openly. Finally, Toph could free the others, and Katara would be able to stop worrying about Sokka and Aang and whatever dank cells they had been stuck in.

Zuko's eyes slid to her, and for once Katara did not look away. She did not think to veil her expression, did not shut her hanging jaw or smooth her puckered brow or stop staring at him. The not-quite-smile faded from his face, replaced by a look that was harder to read.

"Oh, Prince Zuko," Toph said from where she stood, admiring the golden clock - which was slightly more than half her height and a few times wider at the base - with the palms of both hands. "You really shouldn't have."

Zuko climbed abruptly to his feet. "I do hope the gesture will make the remainder of your stay with us more pleasant."

"It already has." None of the servants knew her well enough to hear the sinister undercurrent in her voice, but Katara did. It nearly made her smile. But Toph had turned around, and she was not smiling at all. "You can't be getting up to go already."

"I must. I've already stayed longer than I intended and will be forced to cancel my early afternoon appointment."

He gestured to Yotsu, who bowed and stepped from the room, probably hurrying to send a messenger. Katara climbed reluctantly to her feet, knowing that an escape from one appointment could only mean they were due at another.

"That is a pity," Toph said. "I do feel terribly guilty for keeping you."

"I think Lady Tam Rao will understand my postponement. I am expected to stand at attendance on an important audience in just an hour…"

He did not emphasize the words, but he came to join Toph where she still stood with one hand pressed against the clock. Very deliberately, he traced one of the reliefs at the top.

"You were fond of my uncle, as I recall. He has arrived in the city and I am to witness him face the Fire Lord for his treason."

Toph stiffened, and Katara snapped her eyes to Zuko to catch the look on his face, to see if he might be signaling her in some way. After all, Iroh had last been seen with her father; the capture of one could easily mean the capture of the other.

But Zuko only frowned mildly at the spot where his fingertips rested against the clock, pausing for a beat before going on.

"Don't worry about him. He's expected to join Prince Sokka's prison convoy shortly after the audience. They'll both be kept at the Boiling Rock - as opposed to the Avatar, who will remain here. In any case, I thought you'd like to know what became of your friends."

Toph did not move, and her blind eyes did not blink or widen, but Katara could see how intently she listened. Then she reached out with her off hand and unerringly placed it on Zuko's arm near the elbow. Katara knew now that no one touched royalty unbidden, but maybe the rules were different in the Earth Kingdom, or maybe just for blind girls. In any case, none of the servants standing by batted an eye.

"Thank you. For that, and for the gift and the pleasant visit, and-" Something in her tone shifted, and her smile turned a hint wicked- "most especially for the noodles. It reminded me of the first time we had noodles. Do you remember?"

Zuko stiffened. "Yes."

"Grandfather was the only reason you got my help after that. He was very well-spoken in your favor." She paused, her eyes half shut with fond memory. Then she removed her hand from his arm. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten. That's all."

Zuko stood silent for a moment, seemingly frozen, his head still slightly bowed down to address the short girl. In a snap, he straightened and glanced at Katara before fixing his frown on the door. "Time to go."

Figuring the servants could talk all they wanted, Katara swept in to catch Toph in another hug. She seemed to sense this one coming, though, and hugged her back tightly.

"Come find us soon, Splatto," Toph hissed. "I'll make sure we stay close."

"Keep them safe," Katara managed, then sniffed. "Don't let them-"

From the door, Zuko cleared his throat. Katara sighed and withdrew.

"Are you unwell, Prince Zuko?" Toph asked, all innocent concern.

Zuko leveled a chastening look on her and, belatedly realizing it would have no effect, switched his focus to Katara, only to catch her discretely dabbing at her eyes. He looked away, the quality of his frown changing subtly. "It's only a tickle," he grumbled. "Good day."

"Good day, Prince Zuko. Good day, Princess Katara."

Katara hesitated in the doorway, about to follow Zuko out, but looked back instead. "Good day, Toph."

Toph smirked, then a frowning Roshu stepped into Katara's line of sight and she hurried to catch up with Zuko. Her last sight of Toph warmed her, though, and she soon began stealing glances at the prince who walked slightly ahead of her, wondering what other information he might be holding back.

"You looked surprised," he said abruptly, too low for Roshu and the other servants following to hear. "Is it really that shocking to you?"

It took her a second to realize that he was referring to her surprise at the gift, and Toph's impending escape. When she did not answer right away, Zuko looked back at her from the corner of his scarred eye. With his head held so high and the sour twist of his mouth, he seemed to already know the answer. Still, he asked.

"Did you really think I would keep them trapped here?"

Katara, with her face still tipped down, met his stare and held it. "Forgive me if I have trouble believing you'll do anything that doesn't benefit you or the Fire Nation."

"You know my thoughts on the matter. You know I'll keep my word."

"Yeah. When it's convenient," Katara said under her breath.

Zuko rounded on her, glaring. Everyone in the corridor behind her froze, but Katara only met his eye, daring him to contest it. For a second, she thought he would. He loomed over her, scowling down into her face. He opened his mouth with an unpleasant twist.

"Prince Zuko!" Yotsu's voice came from the corridor through which they had just passed, and the taps of his running footsteps rapidly followed.

Katara glared back at Zuko until, finally, he directed his attention to his valet. Yotsu arrived, breathing hard but stubbornly displaying all the proper courtesies. His bow was perhaps brief, but deep, and as he straightened he presented Zuko with a sealed scroll.

"Your highness, the Fire Lord has been detained by pressing concerns outside the palace. He has commanded that you take his place to deliver General Iroh's sentence."

Zuko took the scroll and broke the seal swiftly, scanning the short block of writing within with the furrow rapidly deepening in his brow. Then, quite suddenly, his eyes widened and his one eyebrow tipped back. Katara watched, a feeling like a stone weighing her stomach. Something had gone terribly wrong.