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Usually, this would be the time Father tells you to leave, but he turns around once more and slowly approaches you. He grabs you by the chin and lifts your face up. Your eyes dart to stare at his. He examines your face with a furrowed brow.
“Odd. I thought you would be telling me how you would utterly triumph against your brother and bring me the Avatar, but it seems a cat got your tongue.” He says.
You feel your stomach twist. His eyes terrify you like they never have before. You have to rehearse your words in your mind to avoid falling prey to panic as you speak. “The expedition was exhausting, that is all.” You get up, his hand removing itself from your face as you do so. “I will bring you the Avatar, Father.”
His brow unfurrows. “Good. That is what I wanted to hear.” He says. “I can’t have both of my children showing weakness, much less so after the dire news of the Avatar returning.”
He starts pacing through the throne room. “Remember that all we do, we do for the Fire Nation. To guarantee its gilded destiny.” He raises a fist and looks at it. “I will complete the task that began a hundred years ago. We will be remembered for generations as the orchestrators of a new world order. One dominated by the Fire Nation.” He concludes, then looks back to you. “And you will lead this new world one day, -if- you prove yourself to me.”
You stand there frozen, looking forward towards the throne.
“You may go.” Father says. “Complete your task and return to me.”
You nod, turn around and head out of the throne room as your father watches you leave.
As you cross the door’s threshold, you check your surroundings and see that no one is there, your perfect, straightened posture collapses and you have to put a hand to the wall for a moment.
If you get the Avatar, you have to watch your brother die. If your brother gets the Avatar, you die.
And even if you were to live, what sort of life would await you under your father’s whims? Is this terror you feel going to be part of your everyday life?
Oh no. Something’s welling up inside you, you stumble away from the throne room, straighten up again and head to the corridors that head to your bedrooms.
Whatever it is, it continues to well up. As you approach the door to your room, you see a figure in front of it, it’s that maid.
“Princess, the steward has assigned me to guard you during your stay. Will you be needing anything?”
You try to get words out, but all that comes out is a thin gasp. You feel your well-crafted expression collapse and worry appears on the maid’s face.
“Princess, are you okay?” She asks.
You mustn’t. You mustn’t collapse now, not in front of a peasant. You…
>Try not to cry.
>Cry a lot.
