The Fire Nation Prince

Chapters 76: Short Tales - DIfficult Discussions

The oil lamp on the floor flickered softly, casting dancing shadows across the carved beams of Suki’s modest quarters. Her armor lay folded in the corner, her sash hanging loosely from the edge of her cot. She sat on the floor in silence, her legs crossed, the heels of her palms resting on her knees.

The dojo was quiet now. Even the village outside had gone still, its usual night music of frogs and winds muted by something heavier: anticipation.

She stared at the paper resting on the mat before her. The Crown Prince’s letter. Her mother, Akari, had placed it there after returning from the mayor’s home, her face unreadable.

They hadn’t spoken since.

Suki drew in a breath through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. It didn’t calm her.

‘They want me,’ she thought. ‘Not just the island. Me.’

She tried to reason with it, tried to find pride in being seen. ‘They see our strength, our history. Maybe this is a way to protect the village without bloodshed.’ She almost laughed at the thought.

No. This wasn’t a gesture of peace. This was a claim.

She rose slowly and crossed to the narrow window. The lights of the Fire Nation ship still burned on the water, far enough to seem harmless, close enough to remind her of their reach.

She remembered him. The prince. Zuko. She remembered the way he had stood in their square all those weeks ago, eyes cold, stance rigid, flame in his palm like a threat disguised as curiosity. But he hadn’t burned the island. He hadn’t even raised his voice.

And now he wanted her.

She clenched her fists.

A knock came at her door.

It creaked open before she could speak. Hinaro stepped in, still wearing her green warpaint from the match earlier.

“You alright?” Hinaro asked, her voice quiet but firm.

Suki nodded, but not convincingly.

“The elders are right,” Hinaro said. “He’s playing at diplomacy, but he’s still Fire Nation. Still a prince.”

“I know,” Suki said. Her voice was barely a whisper. “But what if refusing him means war?”

“Then we fight,” Hinaro answered without pause. “I beat you in the ring today, remember? We can handle more than we think.”

Suki looked at her, then gave a small smile. “You’re insufferably confident.”

“It’s called being prepared.” Hinaro leaned against the doorframe. “But whatever you decide... I’ve got your back. Even if you choose to accept his offer to protect us.”

“I haven’t decided anything,” Suki said quickly.

“I know. Just... don’t let them choose for you.”

They stood in silence for a moment longer before Hinaro slipped out. The door clicked shut behind her.

Suki turned back to the lamp, letting its flicker light her face.

‘Tomorrow we vote,’ she thought. ‘And after that... I decide who I become.’

---

The morning sun climbed slowly over the ocean, casting a molten trail of gold across the gentle waves. The Fire Nation ship loomed in the shallows, black and hulking, a metallic shadow against the brightness of the day. On the beach, the sand was freshly disturbed from footprints and light drills conducted earlier by the soldiers to pass time.

Lieutenant Commander Jee stood near the edge of the water, arms folded, his eyes fixed on the distant village gates nestled between tall trees and misted hills. Beside him, Kujan stretched his arms, letting out a long yawn.

”Still no sign of them,” Jee murmured.

”They’ll come,” Kujan said. ”Akari doesn’t strike me as someone who stalls. They’ve likely debated through the night.”

”You think they’ll agree?”

Kujan shrugged. ”Honestly? I think they’ll resist, at least at first. But they’re practical people. If they see benefit in alliance, they’ll play along.”

Behind them, a younger voice chimed in. “The odds are favorable toward acceptance. Fealty exchanged for preservation is historically common in minor territories faced with imperial consolidation.”

Jee and Kujan turned to see a young ensign approaching, his dark red uniform crisp and his boots spotless despite the sandy ground. His name was Ensign Lee, a youth barely eighteen, but with the diction and poise of someone twice his age. His black hair was slicked back perfectly, and his expression bore the faint, unaware condescension of someone always top of his class.

“You’re certain about this, Lee?” Jee asked, arching a brow.

Lee adjusted the collar of his tunic and gave a small nod. “Indubitably. The Crown Prince’s strategy is one of pragmatic diplomacy. It behooves the local leadership to acquiesce under terms that still afford them relevance.”

“You don’t think they’ll push back against the idea of marrying off their own?” Kujan asked.

“On the contrary,” Lee said with an almost academic tone. “It offers long-term benefits. Familial bonds lead to stabilized relations. It is, in essence, a merger between bloodlines and military influence.”

Kujan snorted. “You talk like a diplomat.”

“I aspire to be Fleet Admiral,” Lee replied, quite seriously. “Such ambition necessitates eliminating trivial distractions, romantic entanglements among them. Securing a companion early, under clear parameters, is, strategically, optimal.”

Jee chuckled. “You mean you’re trying to get marriage out of the way now so no one bothers you about it later?”

“Precisely,” Lee said with a short nod. “I have no intention of becoming entangled in unnecessary emotional theatrics. I seek a wife of suitable temperament and pedigree, not passion.”

Kujan nudged Jee. “He makes it sound like picking out a blade from the armory.”

Two older soldiers wandered over with bowls of rations in hand, catching the tail end of the conversation. One of them, a burly sergeant named Ren, grinned. “Well, maybe he’s got a point. Took me a decade to find the right woman, and another decade to regret it.”

“Same here,” the other said, a lanky veteran named Barun. “Had my share of misadventures. Maybe if I had the prince match me to someone when I was eighteen, I’d have saved myself a world of headaches.”

“I endeavor not to make such mistakes,” Lee replied dryly, looking down his nose just slightly.

Barun exchanged a look with Ren and grinned. “He’s got fire. Maybe too much.”

“Better than having none,” Lee answered coolly.

The men laughed, tension softening slightly across the camp.

Jee crossed his arms again, this time with a small smirk. “Still... depends on whether the Kyoshi girls agree to this plan at all. Let’s hope the Prince didn’t misread the people here.”

Lee’s expression grew thoughtful. “He rarely miscalculates. I suspect he has already prepared for either outcome.”

The men turned again toward the village path, waiting, the morning breeze tugging gently at the banners on their armor.

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