Chapter Text
Yao Li fingered the blade in his hand. It would be so easy. The Firelord was not as young as he once was. He would only get the one though. And what came after? The Crown Prince would replace him before his father’s blood had cooled on the floor, and nothing would change.
“You will do the youngest, as he is the least important.” Firelord Azulon’s voice offered no opinion, only fact. In the Fire Nation, the Firelord’s opinion was fact. Tall and thin, now in his late prime, he had more than forty years of being obeyed without question. Not for the first time, Yao Li wondered what that kind of power might do to a man. To be able to speak something, anything, and have it be so, to the point that one no longer thought of consequences at all. Azulon had given the order to destroy Yao Li’s life in the same tone he might order a jam tart for breakfast. After all, what was the life of a peasant from Kaen to one such as he? He’d probably spared more thought for the jam tart.
Yao Li glanced down as a child of no more than six bowed his head. He was small and thin, with rather delicate features and the same long, straight, jet-black hair as his father. Easy hair. The message was clear. This was a trial run, and both of them were disposable. The six guards in the room stood utterly silent in their black and burgundy, but he did not mistake that silence for passivity any more than he would a coiled adder mink for a vine. Oh no. Yao Li knew better than many of what they were capable.
“It is an honor to serve the Firelord, kenin,” Azulon said sharply. His golden eyes were flat. “If I ever hear otherwise, there will be consequences in Kaen. You have a nephew, I believe? He is not too young to serve his country. A drummer, or perhaps a cabin boy upon one of the battleships. The war is far from won, and I can use every man. We lose so many, you see...”
Yao Li tightened his grip on the shaving blade, but said nothing. His sister’s son, Cai, was only seven. It seemed the Firelord knew quite a bit about consequences after all. He bowed deeply, then faced Ozai and gestured silently to the chair. You do not speak to royalty unless they ask you a question, they’d said. That was fine. He had nothing to say that wouldn’t get him killed on the spot, and he intended to make his death count. Perhaps the guards were not the only adder minks in the palace.
But Ozai didn’t move.
“Prince Ozai,” Azulon said sharply, “get in the chair.” The young prince scrambled up without a word. The Firelord nodded. “That’s better. Do what this man says. Though it is your brother’s betrothal I am announcing at the Solstice Festival tonight, I require that both my sons look their best. Our great nation will be watching.”
Ozai looked up at his father, but didn’t respond. He looked even smaller sitting in the chair. For a moment Yao Li was reminded of his sister’s garden, and how sometimes plants grew in the shade of larger ones. They were stunted, pitiful things. Jia pulled them up and fed them to the wooly pigs.
“Very well,” the Firelord said. “We will leave you now. Kenin, I certainly hope your reputation was accurate.” Then he left, two guards in front, two in back, and two remaining silently by the door to watch over young Ozai.
“I don’t like haircuts,” the boy whispered once they were gone.
Yao Li said nothing.