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The countryside was a green blur shooting past the train windows. Katara leaned back into her seat and sighed happily. “Thank you so, so much for taking me, Zuko,” she said, squeezing his hand. “I’ve wanted to see Hampton Court since I was a kid.”
He squeezed back. “I wasn’t going to let you leave London without that.”
“I’ve still got a month of term left.”
“The point still stands.” He grinned at her, but she only returned it a little. Sadness shadowed her eyes. As they passed a field of sunshine yellow, rapeseed in bloom, he said, “I…didn’t mean to remind you of it. Sorry, love.”
He didn’t call most people that. Just Katara, even in front of Haru and Jet. It made her smile and laugh. That was worth getting the piss taken out of him any day.
“It’s okay, Zuko.” She snuggled against him, and he put his arm around her. “At least I have a reason to come back.”
The ride was less than an hour, but Katara was restless. She kept checking the stops, fiddling with her purse. When they pulled into the station, Zuko nearly lost her as she zipped onto the platform. As they reached the bridge, he put his hands over her eyes and carefully led her to the perfect viewpoint.
“Ready?” he asked.
She was so excited, she was actually shaking. “Yes.”
He took his hands away, and she gasped. Together, they looked across the river at the brick chimneys and turrets, rising from the trees like giant chess pieces. Sunlight came through the patchy clouds, shining on the palace.
“Oh, my God…” Lost for words, she stared at the palace for a second. Then, her face glowing, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she said again. “Zuko, thank you!”
“Of course.” He took her hand again and set off at a run. “Come on, it’s waiting for us!”
Hampton Court Palace belonged to two time periods. But they were here for the older, Tudor half. Katara led the way through Anne Boleyn’s Gateway, pausing just inside the doors. “Look.”
Though a bit blackened by time, the flowery carvings in the ceiling were in great shape. Zuko could read the letters still there, tied together with lovers’ knots: A and H. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
“Anne and Henry...” he said.
Katara nodded. “He tried to erase her. But he never could,” she said triumphantly. They looked up at the carving for a moment, before they bowed their heads in respect and moved on.
They spent the day running round every inch of the Tudor palace and gardens. About half that time, they kept going in circles, lost in the narrow, twisting alleys the buildings created. Zuko had forgotten just how big the place was, and how decorated. Intricate wood carvings and garden bedframes in Tudor white and green, paintings and tapestries and colorful tile, diamonds and zigzags in the walls from alternating light and dark bricks. Everything seemed meant to overwhelm you with beauty, with splendor.
Katara was in heaven. She led the way, telling stories he’d never heard in all his years of school. Kitchen boys who stripped near naked to turn the great spit. How brick and chimneys were cutting-edge technology back then, making Hampton Court quite a statement of wealth. Katherine Howard, running down the gallery and screaming for Henry’s mercy, forever, if the ghost story was true. They smelled the flowers and herbs in the gardens, and she pressed his palm into five centuries’ worth of smoke blackening the kitchen walls, next to hers. Her joy at being here lit up even the darkest hallways.
As they explored, the thought kept hitting Zuko over and over: These walls remember. With her stories and passion guiding him, he could almost see the courtiers strolling past in their velvet and jewels. He could almost smell the roasting venison and hear the soft strains of the lute. Horrors and joys, secrets and injustice and sometimes the truth, the incredible and the everyday, birth and death and life... This place had known it all, and its bricks held every memory. And through those memories, all the names in the history books suddenly became people again. Real, breathing people, who had laughed and cried and danced and lived here.
Hampton Court felt alive, with Katara beside him.
But they saved the best for last. Outside the Chapel Royal door, Zuko told her, “I only came here once, for school, a long time ago. But I never forgot this.” He eased the creaking door open.
They stood in a splendid miniature church. Sunlight slanted in through the windows, giving its warmth to the rich, wood paneling. Their footsteps were the only ones, soft on the black and white tile. Katara’s mouth hung open as she stared, drinking it in. Somewhere in the room’s corners, hidden speakers played quiet choral music, and he grinned. Really helps set the mood.
In the very center of the space, Katara stopped. She tilted her head back, and so did he. Brilliant gold hexagons and arches crisscrossed the dark blue ceiling, the sun sparkling on them. They were both quiet for a long time.
“There’s – ” She took a deep, shaky breath. “There’s stars painted up there. I never knew. And here…look…” She led him to a choir pew, where they both ran their fingertips over a tiny carving. “Little Tudor roses…oh, Zuko – ”
She flung herself on him again, sobbing into his shoulder. Zuko held her, one hand in her hair. “Sorry,” she gulped.
He squeezed her tight, a lump in his throat. “It’s okay, Katara.”
After a while, she pulled away only a little. “It’s everything I knew it would be,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling. “It’s beautiful. It’s just beautiful. I love it here, I loved today. And…”
She paused. Zuko couldn’t look away from her. He thought he knew what she was going to say; he felt it too. Even if it had only been four months, it felt so right. But he wanted to let her say it first.
Please, God, let her say it.
Katara kissed him. Looking up into his face, she said softly, “I love you.”
His heart leapt. Pulling her in again, he murmured into her ear, “I love you too.”
Hampton Court would be closing soon. But they didn’t have to leave just yet. So Zuko and Katara stayed in the chapel, in each other’s arms, as the past lived and breathed all around them.