The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 51: Embers Behind the Throne

The palace was silent, save for the distant echo of torches crackling in their sconces. The Fire Lord’s chambers were bathed in amber light, molten gold spilling over dragon-carved walls and silk curtains that swayed in the midnight breeze. Ozai stood at the edge of his inner sanctum, robes half-loosened, the flame-shaped pauldrons resting on a lacquered stand nearby.

He gazed into the mirror with hollow patience, running a comb through his dark mane. Each stroke was deliberate, a ritual in control. A king must never appear frazzled. Not to his court. Not to his enemies. Not even to himself.

His fingers paused over the clasp of his outer robe. Then, like a flicker of lightning behind clouds, he felt it. A disturbance, not in sound, nor scent, but in the air itself. It shifted around him like wary prey sensing a predator’s breath.

He didn’t turn.

“What do you have to report?”

The silence lingered for only a breath before the voice answered, muffled slightly by the hidden stone grate behind the western wall.

“Sire, it is as you suspected.”

Ozai’s reflection smiled. “Of course it is.”

“Prince Zuko has been seen meeting discreetly with members of his former crew, the same men who accompanied him on his exile voyage.”

“Interesting,” Ozai murmured. He moved to the divan near the hearth, the plush red cushions swallowing his form like a throne’s afterimage. The heat from the embers cast dancing shadows across his angular face. “What can you tell me of their movements?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, Sire. Some have returned to their families. Others indulge in the capital’s… comforts. Taverns. Bathhouses. Gaming halls.”

Ozai exhaled through his nose. “Go on.”

“There is more,” the voice added, quieter now, as if wary of its own implications. “A figure has been seen trailing Princess Azula through the upper markets. The same figure was later spotted entering a teahouse with Lieutenant Jee. One of the prince’s known loyalists.”

Now Ozai turned his head slightly, just enough to reveal the gleam of his eye. “Lieutenant Jee.”

“Yes, Sire.”

He reclined further into the cushions, one long finger tapping the curve of the armrest. “That makes sense,” he said at last, and then chuckled, low and sharp. “I’ve sensed the tension between my children for some time now. The hatred. The rivalry. It blossoms like a flame-starved forest.”

A cruel smile split his face, slow and deliberate. “I love it.”

The voice behind the wall did not respond.

“Return to your post,” Ozai commanded, standing once more. “From this moment forward, I want eyes on both Azula and Zuko. And especially on this Lieutenant Jee. Track his comings and goings. Where he sleeps. Who he speaks to. If he breathes too loudly, I want to hear it before the echo fades.”

“Yes, Fire Lord,” the spy said, and then the whisper of movement vanished into the walls.

Ozai turned toward the hearth again, watching the dying embers pulse like the heart of some ancient beast.

“Let them scheme,” he murmured to himself. “Let them think they have secrets. Every ember returns to the fire.”

---

The silk curtains rustled in the breeze, perfumed with cherry blossom incense from the palace gardens. The Fire Princess’s chamber was a sprawl of crimson and gold, flame-shaped candleholders cast flickering shadows on dragon-motif walls, and a velvet chaise lounge sat beside a low lacquered table littered with hairpins, cosmetics, and forgotten scrolls.

Azula stood before a gilded mirror in her nightrobes, combing out her dark hair with jerky strokes. Her reflection scowled back at her, golden eyes narrow with fury.

“He tricked me,” she snapped, tossing the brush onto the vanity with a clang. “That smug little traitor tricked me. Me!”

On the divan, Ty Lee blinked up from where she was braiding a strand of Mai’s hair. “Who, Zuko?” she asked with soft confusion. “But didn’t you agree he should fight Zhao again?”

“That’s not the point, Ty Lee!” Azula whirled around, hair spilling down her back like liquid ink. “He made it seem like it was my idea! I thought I was setting him up for humiliation, getting Father to sanction a public rematch so everyone could see how pathetic he still was.” She stalked across the room, arms waving. “But no. Zhao is the one who got humiliated. Zuko, Zuko made a show of it. Redirecting lightning, playing the noble warrior. Even Father was impressed.”

Mai leaned her head back lazily onto the armrest, one knee tucked beneath her. Her voice was drier than sandpaper. “And this is… bad? Because Zuko didn’t humiliate himself like you planned?”

Azula narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you start.”

Mai shrugged with deliberate boredom. “I’m just saying… if you were trying to crush him, you probably shouldn’t have handed him a stage.”

Azula hissed, turning sharply to the vanity again and gripping its edge. “He was supposed to fail. He was supposed to prove once and for all he’s still the pathetic little worm I remember.” Her gaze locked with her own reflection, pupils flaring. “Instead, now he gets to march into Father’s chamber and ask for anything he wants. A battalion. A private fleet. A province, for all I know.”

“He won’t ask for a province,” Ty Lee offered helpfully. “Zuko doesn’t seem like the type who wants land. He’s more like… broody rooftop vibes, you know?”

Azula groaned, slumping into the vanity stool with theatrical frustration. “You’re both missing the point!”

Ty Lee scooted closer on the floor, her tone gentle. “Okay, okay. But maybe this isn’t the worst thing? You still have Father’s favor. Zuko winning one fight doesn’t mean he’s suddenly a genius.”

Azula scoffed. “You didn’t see his eyes. He knew. He knew what I was trying to do, and he played along like it amused him. Like he was letting me think I had control. He baited Zhao, baited me, baited Father, and now he’s standing there covered in bruises like some noble martyr who’s suddenly clever enough to bend lightning and make us all look like amateurs!”

She hurled a hairpin across the room. It embedded itself into the wooden column with a thunk.

Mai raised an eyebrow. “At least he didn’t throw you into the ring. That would’ve been awkward.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Azula’s tone was acid.

Ty Lee clasped her hands together, attempting a cheerful smile. “Well, you are still the princess. And smarter. And scarier. Maybe just… give it a day? See what he does next? Maybe he’ll slip up.”

Azula’s lip curled. “He won’t. That’s the problem. He’s already planning something else. I can feel it.”

Mai yawned, unfolding her legs and stretching like a cat. “Then plan better.”

Azula stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Mai said coolly. “If he’s playing the long game, then you need to stop reacting like it’s a daily match and start acting like you’re two moves ahead.”

Azula’s hands clenched in her lap, her eyes narrowing. Slowly, a calculating smirk began to curl her lips. “You know… that’s not a bad idea.”

Mai gave a small shrug, already standing to leave. “Try not to throw anything else at the wall. Some of us still like having mirrors.”

Ty Lee giggled, bouncing after her. “Night, Zula! Don’t worry, you’re still the scariest firebender I know!”

“Obviously,” Azula muttered as the door closed behind them.

She turned back to the mirror, tracing her reflection with a fingertip.

“Let’s see how clever you really are, Zuzu…”

[A/N: Can’t wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on .com/saiyanprincenovels.]