Chapter 6: The Unexpected News
The chamber was smaller than the war room, warmer in tone but no less suffocating in its purpose. Gold-cast lanterns lined the ceiling like inverted lotus flowers, their firelight subdued, casting long shadows along the lacquered walls. A private dining hall reserved for royals, too formal to be called cozy, too quiet to be comfortable.
Prince Zuko sat at the head of the obsidian dining table, dressed in a more subdued robe of deep crimson edged with gold thread. His hair was tied back loosely tonight, not in the formal topknot expected of the Crown Prince, but in the way he used to wear it during exile. Familiar. Functional. Unceremonial.
Across from him, Azula toyed with a piece of grilled fire eel, letting it spin slowly on the edge of her chopsticks. She had said little since arriving. Her hair was down again, oddly informal for her. Her golden eyes tracked Zuko's movements with feline stillness, unreadable.
Between them, the steam of their meal rose in ghostly tendrils, curling into the space where neither dared yet speak.
Zuko broke the silence first.
"We leave the day after tomorrow."
Azula didn't look up. "You said three days. Has the schedule changed already?"
"Admiral Kuvak wants to make an early move south to test wind conditions." Zuko lifted his tea calmly, but his words were calculated. "And I want to strike before our enemies expect us to."
She sipped her wine, not acknowledging the 'our'. "Which coast?"
"Nan-Hai," Zuko said. "You remember it, don't you?"
Azula finally looked up, an eyebrow raised. "The rebel coast that turned your exile into a comedy of errors?"
Zuko's expression didn't falter. "The same."
A faint, sharp smirk curved her lips. "You had one ship and a few dozen half-dead crewmen. You got pushed back by local resistance and rogue waterbenders hiding in the cliffs."
"I didn't have resources," Zuko said coolly. "Now I do."
Azula swirled her wine gently. "So, what, this is about revenge?"
"It's about showing the strength of the Crown Prince," he answered, leaning slightly forward. "The Nan-Hai coast is still volatile. Intelligence suggests Earth Kingdom smugglers are using it to channel supplies to General Fong's partisans. I want to cut them off."
"And gain a victory that makes the war room shut up," she added.
Zuko didn't deny it.
She set down her cup. "And I assume I'm not just coming along for decoration."
"I expect you to take command of our eastern assault team," Zuko said. "It'll be your first step toward restoration."
Azula's eyes narrowed. "You make it sound like charity."
"It's a partnership," Zuko said. "You agreed to be mine. My weapon. My muse. This is what that means."
The words hung between them like a blade left unsheathed on the table.
Azula leaned back, folding her arms under her chest. "And if I decide I'm tired of playing the whore behind closed doors while you toss me military scraps in public?"
Zuko's expression didn't change. But his voice came quieter. "You could've walked away after the first night. Or the second."
Azula looked away. "You make it sound like I had a choice."
"You always had a choice," Zuko said, eyes locked on her. "You still do."
Silence again.
Then she reached for a small bowl of rice, gathering a bit onto her chopsticks. Her hand was steady, but her voice had cooled.
"You're still afraid of Father," she said, flatly. "You pretend like you've outgrown it, but every plan, every maneuver, is built on proving something to him."
Zuko didn't respond immediately. He let her strike. Let the wound bleed.
"I'm not afraid of him," he said eventually. "But I understand him. That's more dangerous."
Azula chuckled bitterly. "And you think he'll just hand you the throne when you're done flexing for the council?"
"No," Zuko said, meeting her gaze. "That's why I'm not asking."
She paused. Not because she didn't understand, but because she did.
"I hate you," she whispered, voice almost too quiet to hear.
"I know," Zuko said softly. "And I still chose you."
Azula looked at him, golden eyes sharp and wounded all at once.
"This deal," she said slowly, "is going to kill one of us."
Zuko leaned forward slightly. "Maybe, I doubt it though."
Another pause. The air between them was heavy with words they hadn't yet said, and ones they never would.
She finally looked away again, stabbing a piece of roasted phoenix duck. "Nan-Hai it is."
There came a bit of a lull after that. Azula's voice broke the lull, sharp and silk-wrapped.
"So… what was she like?"
Zuko didn't flinch. He didn't ask who she meant. He simply finished sipping from his cup, placed it back on the lacquered table, and met her gaze.
"Be more specific."
Azula gave a dry laugh. "Don't play coy. The Water Tribe girl. Katara. You had her under your roof, in your chambers, in chains. And publicly, everyone believed you were enjoying her company in every imaginable way. I wonder… was the act only for them?"
Zuko leaned back, folding one arm across his chest. His gold eyes didn't waver.
"What are you actually asking, Azula?"
She tilted her head, golden eyes narrowing as a slow smirk curled across her lips. "You tell me. You made her your muse, didn't you? Whispered that she was special. Paraded her around the court like a new trophy. You even had the nobles gossiping about your little exotic pet, purring under your heel."
He said nothing.
Azula clicked her tongue. "I suppose I'm just curious. You've never been particularly subtle when it comes to your appetites. And yet, with her… there's still fog. No clarity. You let her go, supposedly, when the Avatar escaped. So tell me, what happened between you two in those quiet, locked rooms? Did she kneel? Did she fight? Did she weep?" A beat. "Did you?"
Zuko smiled faintly. There was no humor in it.
"You sound jealous."
Azula scoffed, but it wasn't dismissive. She picked up a slice of seared eel with measured elegance, chewed, and swallowed before replying.
"Please. I'm only trying to understand the competition."
"Is that what she was?" Zuko asked, his voice even. "Competition?"
Azula studied him now. Serious. "I don't know. Is she?"
Zuko leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the table. His eyes were still calm, but there was something else beneath, something unreadable.
"She was… loyal. In her own way."
Azula arched a brow. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I'm giving."
A silence passed.
Azula's gaze sharpened. "You offered her a place in your harem, didn't you?"
Zuko's lips barely moved. "I did."
"Before she escaped?" Azula's eyes darkened. "That's what the going story is."
Zuko offered the faintest shrug. "Stories are tools. I used one."
"And her?" Azula asked, voice quieter now. "Did she use you?"
Zuko didn't reply immediately. He stared down into his wine for a long moment, then set it aside untouched.
"She had a choice."
Azula tilted her head. "But you're not saying what she chose."
"I'm not."
More silence.
She hated it. Azula could handle lies, cruelty, even betrayal. But ambiguity? Mystery? From him? That was unacceptable.
"She's still out there," she murmured.
"With the boy Avatar,"
"Do you expect to see her again?"
Zuko looked up at her, and for a flicker of a moment, Azula thought she saw something unguarded pass behind his eyes. Something like regret. Or anticipation.
"Eventually."
Azula's jaw tightened just slightly. She looked away, reaching for another bite of her food, but the act was mechanical now. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
Zuko didn't press the moment. He let it sit. Let her churn.
Then he said quietly, "What we did, you and I, no one knows. It's a secret because it has to be. Just like what I shared with her, whatever that was."
Azula looked at him again. Her expression was unreadable now, forged steel behind gold.
"And which of us do you think will stay your secret longer?"
Zuko didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Because they both already knew, secrets never stay buried for long.
A quiet knock at the door broke the moment. Neither Zuko nor Azula moved at first, their gazes locked. Then the door opened just enough for a uniformed messenger to step in, armor crisp, expression strained, eyes darting toward Zuko with urgency. He crossed the floor quickly and leaned close, whispering only three words.
"Urgent message, sire."
Zuko's jaw tightened. The change in him was immediate, like steam rising from the surface of calm water. Azula noticed it instantly. His face didn't twist, but his eyes changed, went focused, harder. He stood without another word and turned to leave.
Azula set her cup down with deliberate care.
"Going somewhere?" she asked, voice deceptively casual.
"It's official," Zuko said, not turning to look at her. "A matter of command."
"Oh come now, Zuzu," she said, rising slowly from her seat, "you were just starting to open up. You can't possibly expect me to let you walk out after that without explanation."
"It's nothing," he replied quickly, too quickly. "I'll brief you later."
"You're lying," she said, her voice like ice now. "I saw your face change. I've seen you bluff ministers with smoother expressions."
He paused in the doorway, back still turned. "Then you already know I won't answer."
And with that, he stepped into the hall with the soldier in tow. The door closed sharply behind him.
Azula stared at the shut doors for a long moment, then murmured to herself, "One whisper in the ear, and suddenly he bleeds."
She exhaled slowly, something dark flickering behind her eyes. "I have to know."
Then she followed.
---
The tower loomed like a spike of volcanic glass rising from the base of the mountains. It was positioned just beyond the outer gates, high enough to catch the messages of carrier hawks and royal birds before they circled the city. The spiral path inside led upward through layers of silence and torchlight, carved in stone blackened by centuries of use.
Zuko walked ahead of the messenger, his mind already racing. Only a handful of people in his chain of trust even knew the tower was used again. Fewer still knew to send anything there.
When he reached the uppermost chamber, a man was waiting.
The torchlight framed his worn armor and shaven head. Old, scarred, but unmistakably loyal. It was Rin, one of the last few from the days of exile. He bowed deeply and handed over a sealed scroll.
"Direct from Kyoshi Island, my prince," Rin said. "Encrypted and untouched."
Zuko nodded, his expression unreadable. "Leave me."
Rin bowed again and descended the stairs without a word.
Zuko held the scroll for a long moment. It bore his personal seal and the watermark of Lieutenant Commander Jee, newly promoted, recently dispatched.
He broke the seal with a flick of his thumb and unrolled the scroll.
***---***
Transcribed Report: Ensign Lee
Dictated by Authority of Lieutenant Commander Jee
Encrypted Route Protocol: Royal Eyes Only
> To His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Zuko,
> May your ambitions bear fruit and your enemies sow salt.
> The operations on Kyoshi Island have concluded in adherence to the foundational directive entrusted to Commander Jee. I offer herein a precise summary of the developments, as per your directive for clarity without flourish, though I admit, restraint of diction is a burden I do not bear easily.
The initial diplomatic proposal was met, as expected, with suspicion, though the undercurrent of disunity among the island's civilian elders facilitated a slower but eventual capitulation. Their mayor, one Hanoo, a man of passive spine and bloated virtue, capitulated to avoid what he perceived as greater bloodshed.
Resistance did bloom, as anticipated, and your forecast regarding the necessity of an external threat proved prescient. A staged or perhaps even genuine assault by third-party forces—later traced via documents to operatives sympathetic to General Fong—allowed for decisive intervention by our own troops.
I note, with some satisfaction, that our response not only saved Kyoshi lives but reshaped public perception of our presence as protective rather than invasive.
Suki of the Kyoshi Warriors, whose reputation borders on local sainthood, has been offered the position outlined in your scroll. Her response remains… contemplative.
Additionally, all five designated marriage contracts have been acknowledged. I, however, must confess your assignment of Hinaro to my person is a challenge I had not anticipated. She is… spirited. Your sense of irony remains intact, my prince.
More crucially, sir, there has been a leak. General Fong's involvement implies someone within your extended structure has eyes on our movements. I have not identified the point of compromise, but I would advise a counter-intelligence operation before further directives are dispatched through traditional channels. I do however recommend your presence on the island post haste.
Commander Jee remains loyal. As do I.
> For the Flame and the Throne,
> Ensign Lee
***---***
Zuko reread the scroll slowly, eyes scanning each line like a sculptor running fingers over fresh stone. He smiled.
Not widely. Not in joy.
But in satisfaction.
Everything had gone wrong in the right way.
Resistance. Fong's interference. Forced diplomacy. And now, eyes were on him. Watching more closely than he'd expected.
Good.
Because now he knew who the players were. Or at least that they were playing.
He folded the scroll again, burned the edges in his palm, and let the flame consume it until only smoke remained.
Then, as the last curl vanished into the air, he whispered:
"They're all watching."
The heavy silence inside the tower was shattered by the door slamming open.
Azula strode in like a blade drawn for war, golden eyes sharp, mouth curled in impatience.
"Zuko," she snapped, "I've had enough of this…"
She stopped cold.
The room was dark, save for the dying embers curling into black smoke above Zuko's outstretched palm. Whatever had been written on that scroll, it was gone. Reduced to ash. No trace, no parchment, no seal. Just the smell of scorched silk and char.
She looked from the smoke to his face. It wasn't rage, or panic, or calculation she saw there.
It was purpose.
Zuko turned slowly, his expression unreadable. The firelight caught the edge of his scar, casting it like a brand against shadow.
"To the harbor," he said to Rin, who'd returned at the sound of her voice. "Wake the officers who are in the capital. Get the ships fueled and loaded. We sail immediately."
Azula blinked. "We were supposed to leave in two days."
"I have another stop before Nan-Hai," Zuko replied curtly.
"What kind of stop?" she pressed. "Where?"
He looked at her, voice clipped and final. "I will meet you in Nan-Hai in five days."
"It's the middle of the night," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You expect the entire fleet to…"
"BACK OFF!!!" Zuko roared.
His voice slammed through the room like a living flame, rattling the walls, scorching the air. It wasn't just a command. It was a warning. A promise of annihilation. Azula froze.
The air went still and dead. The embers stopped flickering.
She stared at him, lips parted, but said nothing.
Zuko took a single step forward, the fury still radiating from him like coiled lightning.
"Inform Admiral Kuvak," he said without turning back to her. "Tell him the same. I have other business to take care of. I will meet you all in Nan-Hai."
Rin approached carefully, his voice low but urgent. "Prince Zuko… the princess is correct. Most of the men are not even in the city. Half the officers are…"
"Then get the ones who are," Zuko cut in. "And get them moving."
He stormed past them, cloak flaring behind him, boots pounding with measured fury as he began the long descent down the winding stairs. Rin snapped to attention and followed, barking orders to the guards below. Fire Nation soldiers scrambled in the torchlight, tripping over themselves to obey.
The tower buzzed with chaos.
But Azula didn't move.
She stood in the center of the black chamber, her eyes locked on the fading ash still suspended in the air.
She had seen Zuko angry before. Arrogant. Even unhinged.
But this… this was something else.
There was no flailing fire, no boy trying to prove himself. There was no mask, no bluff. There was only power. Cold. Controlled. Coiled like a dragon waiting to strike.
And for the first time in her life, Azula felt something she had never felt when looking at her brother.
Doubt.
She'd always known she could beat him. Even when he trained harder, screamed louder, tried to outmatch her, he was still the weaker one.
But now… For the first time ever. Now she wasn't sure.
[A/N: Can't wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels. If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, don't forget to drop a power stone! Your support helps this story reach more readers!]