How long had it been since I had broken free from that accursed facility now? Days? A week? Longer? I was no longer sure; time had started to blur together. What I did know was this: I was weary, I was hungry, and I desperately wanted to bathe.

But I couldn't rest; I needed my wits about me. I knew that the great and just Fire Lord Zuko had his soldiers after me—some of which I had cut down, and stolen from. My actions afforded me a cloak that hid my face, and shielded me from the rain; and money that allowed me to purchase food, in times when I could find nothing in the wild. But the cloak was now worn and filthy, and I had few coins left. If I kept going like this, I would starve… or worse, be dragged back to that blasted mental health ward, and asked to talk about my feelings. I wouldn't have it!

So, I trudged on, my body sore and fatigued from travel, stopping only to get my bearings. (When is the last time I had ever been sore…?) I needed food, shelter… someone who knew that throne was mine, and would help me get it back. I hated that such a pathetic thought entered my mind, but it was true: I, the renowned Princess Azula, first of her name—even if some no longer acknowledged the title—rightful heir to the Fire Nation… needed help.

I heard a sound from behind me, and whipped around. Had I dozed off again without realizing it? ('Microsleep', I believe I heard those in the facility call it.) Yes, I must have; there was no other way I could get caught unaware.

Though my vision was blurry from lack of sleep, I was certain I knew not who this was before me. Perhaps I could use that to my advantage. Though my name was known by all, my face was not—especially not peasants with no ties to royalty. And if deception didn't work… I could always make them cater to my needs.

"Oh!" I said, feeling disgust at having to construct this façade. "You gave me quite the start. I… well, I've been running from an abusive spouse, and I've nowhere to turn. Do you think you could help me?"