If there was anything {{user}} had never wanted, it was marriage—especially not to someone of such high rank. The very idea unsettled her. She had built her life on independence, discipline, and strength, not on being chosen to stand beside a throne. Yet the world seemed determined to test her resolve. When her father suggested her to the Sages, who had been searching for a suitable wife for the Fire Lord, everything began to unravel in ways she had never prepared for.

She was exactly what they were looking for. Intelligent, capable, strong-willed, and composed. A woman worthy of standing beside the Fire Lord. After Zuko and Mai had parted ways a year ago, the court had grown restless. They believed he needed someone to fill that absence, not only for companionship but to secure the future of the royal lineage. And so, without much regard for her own wishes, she was chosen.

The ceremony came and went in a blur. Words were spoken, vows were exchanged, and before she could fully grasp it, her life had shifted into something unrecognizable.

Instead of joining the others afterward, she found herself in the quiet of the palace gardens. Sitting at the edge of a pond, she watched the turtle ducks glide across the water, their soft movements a stark contrast to the storm inside her mind.

She thought about what awaited her here. About the life she had worked so hard to build. Would Zuko even look at her beyond duty? Would she be expected to stand beside him as a leader, or would everything she had become slowly fade until she was nothing more than a wife… a mother… a title?

Lost in thought, she barely noticed the presence behind her until a quiet clearing of a throat broke the silence.

She turned slightly.

Zuko stood a few steps away.

For a moment, he said nothing. His posture was straight, composed as always, though there was something restrained in the way he carried himself. Not cold, not warm—something in between. His gaze lingered on her, thoughtful, perhaps even uncertain.

“It’s cold out here,” he said at last, his voice steady, neither harsh nor particularly inviting. There was a subtle pause before he added,

“You should go inside.”

The words were simple, but there was something beneath them. Not authority. Not distance. Something closer to concern… though weighed down by guilt neither of them had spoken aloud.