The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 64: Hidden Plans

The palace gardens were a masterpiece of manicured perfection.

Cherry trees stretched their delicate limbs overhead, their last pink blossoms drifting lazily down in the warm morning breeze. The scent of fresh-cut grass and sweet hibiscus filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of roasted nuts and rich coffee set neatly at the side table.

Azula sat with the elegant poise of a predator in stillness, a plate of preserved fruits and rice cakes untouched before her. She wore a simple crimson gown, unadorned save for the golden sash at her waist, informal enough for breakfast, but every inch of her posture radiated authority.

Across from her, Mai toyed idly with a cup of jasmine tea, her expression as blank as the sky overhead. Ty Lee sat cross-legged on the grass, humming softly to herself as she balanced a plate precariously on her knees.

The peace shattered when Commander Zhao strode into view, flanked by another man in lighter armor.

Azula looked up lazily as they approached. Her sharp eyes immediately caught the slight hitch in Zhao’s step, the way he moved stiffly, as if every breath was measured to avoid pain. Bandages peeked out from under his high collar, just visible at the neckline.

Zhao bowed stiffly at the waist.

”Princess Azula,” he said. His voice was steady, but there was a rasp in it, as if even speaking too loudly would strain him.

Azula inclined her head slightly, a queen acknowledging a pawn.

”And you brought a guest,” she said coolly, glancing at the younger man behind him.

Zhao straightened. ”Lieutenant Tau, Princess. One of my most reliable officers.”

Tau bowed deeply. ”It is an honor, Your Highness.”

Azula waved her hand with mild impatience. ”Very well. If you’ve dragged yourselves all the way here during my breakfast, I assume it’s important.”

”It is,” Zhao said grimly.

At her nod, Tau stepped forward.

”The prince,” he began carefully, ”was seen meeting with one of his officers this morning. A Lieutenant Jee.”

Azula’s eyebrow twitched slightly upward. ”Go on.”

”I was able to follow them briefly from a distance,” Tau continued. ”But due to the coronation preparations, I couldn’t get close without drawing suspicion. I didn’t hear much, but… I heard enough.”

Zhao leaned in slightly, eager.

Tau hesitated, glancing between them. ”They were discussing... something set to happen during the coronation. Something about ‘timing’... and a name. Aang.”

Zhao frowned deeply. ”Who the fuck is Aang?”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

Azula sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose.

”Aang,” she said slowly, ”is the name of the Avatar, you idiots.”

Tau paled slightly. Zhao’s frown deepened into a scowl of embarrassment.

Azula tapped her fingers lightly against the side of her teacup. Her mind raced ahead, fitting the pieces together.

”So,” Zhao said, recovering his composure, ”the prince is plotting something involving the Avatar.”

Azula gave him a slow, wolfish smile. ”It seems you were right to reach out to me, Commander.”

Tau shifted slightly, glancing between them. ”Shall we move to stop him now, Your Highness? Or…?”

He trailed off.

Both Zhao and Tau looked at Azula, the question hanging in the fragrant morning air.

Azula tapped one lacquered fingernail against her plate in thought.

”No,” she said at last. ”Not yet.”

She stood, the silk of her robes whispering against the stone.

”I will speak to my father.”

Her eyes gleamed coldly in the light.

”Commander Zhao, you and your men will be assigned to the Avatar’s personal guard detail during the coronation. If Zuko makes a move... you will stop him.”

Zhao grinned savagely, though the motion made him wince and touch his side.

”I’ll see to it personally.”

Azula nodded approvingly.

”Lieutenant Tau,” she said, turning to the younger officer, ”your mission is simple: find out exactly what my brother is planning. No mistakes.”

Tau bowed sharply. ”Yes, Princess.”

Without another word, he turned and hurried back toward the palace grounds, blending into the bustling crowds preparing for tomorrow’s grand event.

For a moment, Azula and Zhao stood alone in the dappled sunlight, the smell of sweet flowers and fresh pastries thick around them.

Azula folded her arms and looked Zhao up and down.

”You’ve changed since you were a bratty Lieutenant under the Colonel,” she said idly.

”So has he,” Zhao muttered, grimacing as he adjusted his bandages. ”Prince Zuko.”

She tilted her head, studying him. ”Tell me,” she said, her voice low and amused. ”You fought him. Twice now. What do you think?”

Zhao’s mouth twisted into something that was neither quite a smile nor quite a snarl.

”The first Agni Kai?” he said, voice rough. ”He played me like a flute. Behaved exactly as I expected, brash, reckless, stupid. Easy to underestimate.”

”And now?” she prompted.

Zhao looked away toward the gardens, watching a breeze tug petals from the cherry trees.

”When I learned he captured the Avatar only days after he left my base... I realized the truth.”

Azula said nothing, letting him speak.

”Zuko’s exile changed him,” Zhao said. ”Those years in the world… surviving pirates, earthbender mercenaries, desperate men. Fighting and bleeding without palace guards or safety nets.”

He chuckled darkly.

”The Fire Lord threw the boy into the deep end of the sea. And instead of drowning...” Zhao’s voice dropped to a whisper. ”He learned to swim and thrive.”

Azula’s smile was slow and thoughtful.

Zhao shook his head, wincing as he moved.

”I served in the Southern Waters,” he said. ”I’ve read reports, skirmishes, raids, attacks from pirates and Earth Kingdom guerrillas. His ship barely made it through half of those.”

He turned back to her, his face grim.

”Surviving that… it makes sense he’s not the same spoiled prince anymore.”

Azula tilted her chin up, her golden eyes distant, thoughtful.

Above them, the clear blue sky stretched endlessly overhead.

No clouds.

No mercy.

And tomorrow, the palace would either crown a prince… or bury a traitor.

---

Azula walked briskly through the winding palace halls, the hard soles of her boots striking against polished stone with every step. The red silk banners draped from the high ceilings stirred in the faint currents of morning air, the walls lined with flame sconces that burned steadily.

She wore her formal battle attire, the one reserved for moments of command and strategy. The black tunic clung sharply to her slender frame, bordered with bold crimson lines that cut across her chest and waist. Gold accents adorned her belt and shoulder guards, gleaming under the torchlight. Her leggings were tightly fitted, leading into polished black boots trimmed with red. Her armor plates rested over her shoulders and thighs, designed for mobility and elegance both, the Fire Nation insignia embossed proudly across her chest. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a high topknot, her bangs framing her sharp, calculating eyes.

The doors to the war room loomed ahead, heavy and guarded. Two imperial firebenders saluted her sharply as she approached. Without waiting for permission, she pushed the doors open and entered.

Inside, Fire Lord Ozai stood before the great war map that dominated the room. The vast parchment was spread across a stone table, covered in tiny fire-red and earth-green markers, each symbolizing regiments, fortresses, and battlefronts across the world.

Ozai looked much the same as ever, towering and imperious in his black and crimson royal armor, the golden phoenix emblem crowning his chest. His long black hair fell past his shoulders in sleek waves, held back from his severe face by a small golden crown. His sharp beard framed his mouth perfectly, giving him an air of brutal authority, every line of his body radiating power.

He glanced up as she entered, and a thin smile touched his lips.

”My daughter,” he said smoothly, ”to what do I owe this visit.”

Azula bowed slightly, the gesture just formal enough to pass.

”I come with concerns, Father,” she said. ”Concerns for the coronation tomorrow.”

Ozai’s dark eyes gleamed with amusement.

”Concerns,” he repeated. ”I would have thought you would be too busy fuming about your brother’s crowning.”

Azula’s jaw tightened for a brief moment before she forced a pleasant mask onto her face.

”Of course I am honored,” she said sweetly, ”but I have heard rumors. Whispers of sympathizers of the Avatar. They may try something during the ceremony. I propose strengthening the security around the Avatar’s holding chambers. As a contingency.”

Ozai studied her carefully, as if reading the words left unspoken.

He turned back to the map, his hands clasped behind his back.

”You have permission,” he said casually. ”A wise precaution.”

There was a pause.

The tension, invisible at first, grew thicker.

”You are still upset,” Ozai said, not turning.

Azula’s lips pressed into a thin line.

”After everything I have done,” she said, her voice low and tight, ”after all I have achieved, you still chose him.”

Ozai finally faced her fully.

”Zuko has earned this, Azula.”

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

”And I have not?”

”You have done much,” Ozai allowed. ”But not like him.”

Azula’s voice rose despite herself.

”Why? Because he survived a few pirates? Some earthbenders?”

She could not keep the contempt from her voice.

Ozai studied her in silence for a long moment.

Then he asked, his voice mild, almost conversational.

”Would you then consider what Zuko proposed the other day.”

Azula stiffened, horror flashing across her face.

”I thought we were never to speak of that,” she hissed. She flicked her gaze toward the guards standing like statues along the walls. ”Especially not with ears around.”

Ozai’s expression did not change. His gaze drifted back to the map as if he were discussing nothing more serious than troop movements.

”It seems to me,” he said slowly, ”that you did not dislike the idea entirely.”

Azula recoiled, her stomach twisting in disgust. She felt the bile rise in her throat.

”The very thought of it,” she said, her voice sharp with loathing, ”disgusts me.”

Ozai said nothing to that. He traced the path of a battalion with one finger, moving it southward.

”I have not been able to stop thinking about it,” he said quietly. ”Since Zuko spoke to me about it days ago. Before... the incident.”

He did not say more. He did not have to.

Azula turned her head slightly, unable to meet his eyes.

”I think your brother knows something,” Ozai continued. ”I have noticed the changes, as everyone has. There might be a real reason he proposed it. Perhaps a threat he thinks worthy of such drastic measures.”

The silence in the room grew oppressive.

”Secondly,” Ozai said, ”your brother earned the right to ask me for anything. Anything at all. That was the wager of the rematch with Commander Zhao.”

Azula turned slowly back to him, her throat dry.

”You mean,” she said hoarsely, ”he could ask you... to force me...”

She could not even finish the sentence.

”It is a real possibility,” Ozai said, his voice as calm as ever.

Azula stared at him, seeing for a moment not her father but the terrible, indifferent force that ruled the Fire Nation.

There was nothing more to be said.

Ozai turned back to the map, dismissing her without a word.

”You have permission,” he repeated. ”Strengthen the security. Your brother is meeting with the Sages now, working on a method to end the Avatar’s cycle. You should observe them.”

Azula bowed stiffly and turned to leave.

The doors closed behind her with a hollow thud, but her mind was anything but silent.

As she walked through the palace halls, her boots striking rhythmically against the polished floors, a bitter realization coiled inside her.

’He played me,’ she thought.

Zuko had maneuvered her like a piece on a board.

He had baited her into goading him to fight Zhao. Had made it seem like her idea to humiliate him. But it was his plan from the start. To win. To claim a reward.

And now, with that victory, he could ask for anything.

Even her.

’He wants me,’ she thought, a shudder of revulsion and confusion running through her.

Stopping his plans for the Avatar would be the perfect revenge.

And she would enjoy every second of it.

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