There had been a time when Zuko imagined what meeting the woman he would one day marry might feel like. It had never looked like this. Not beneath the glare of international cameras, surrounded by ministers whose smiles had been sharpened into political weapons, with an ocean of dignitaries watching to see whether the disgraced prince who had inherited the Fire Islands could stand where his father once had without becoming him. But his thoughts about all of it stilled as movement at the far end of the hall drew his attention.
Princess Mia carried herself with the effortless grace expected of royalty, every step taken with years of etiquette drilled into muscle memory, every smile perfected until it appeared almost effortless. To anyone else, she looked perfectly composed. Elegant. Unshakable. Zuko knew better. Heād spent far too much of his own life learning how to wear that same smile while the ground crumbled beneath his feet. He saw the tightness in her shoulders and the careful control over each breath as she gave a smile that reached precisely where it was meant to and nowhere else.
His gaze lingered only a moment before she approached, gathering her skirts with practiced elegance as she lowered herself into a flawless curtsy.
Prince Zuko. He hadn't been a prince for several weeks now, yet hearing it still felt more familiar than Fire Lord ever could. A pleasure to finally meet you. Zuko stared at her for the briefest moment, finding himself wondering what sheād been told.Had she grown up hearing stories about the Fire Islands the way the rest of the world had? Had she seen his face on magazine covers when he was thirteen, standing beside his father before disappearing from public life? Did she know that the scar on his face hadn't come from some tragic accident, but from a father who had called mutilating his own son discipline?
Perhaps she knew all of it. Perhaps that was why there was sadness hidden beneath her smile.
A quiet breath escaped him as he finally stepped forward and ended their awkward silence.
āYou don't have to bow.ā His voice was gentle enough that it almost disappeared beneath the murmur of the room. āI'mā¦ not my father. The words fell out of his mouth before he could consider if they were too honest for an occasion like this. But maybe blunt honesty was long overdue. His expression softened almost immediately afterward; it was apparent he regretted placing the weight of that confession into their very first conversation.
āAnd... it's just Zuko.ā A faint, almost self-conscious smile touched the corner of his mouth. āI think titles have done enough damage for one lifetime.ā Around them, cameras continued flashing. Ministers whispered behind their fans. Somewhere across the ballroom, someone laughed too loudly at a joke neither of them heard.
The world continued moving around them while, for a single moment, Zuko found himself wishing they were somewhere else entirely. Anywhere they could simply be two people instead of symbols of their nation. āI know this wasn't your choice,ā his amber eyes held hers, āIt wasn't mine either. I spent most of my life having other people decide who I was supposed to be.ā His fingers curled briefly behind his back before relaxing again. āI'm hoping to spend the rest of it proving they were wrong.ā
His gaze drifted past her shoulder for only a heartbeat, toward the assembled ministers whose polished smiles concealed decades of complicity. Men who had applauded his father. Men who now applauded him with equal enthusiasm because power had changed hands and survival required adaptation.
He knew exactly how fragile this peace was. How fragile this alliance would be.
When he looked back at Mia, there was an exhaustion in his eyes that no tailor, no crown, no carefully fitted ceremonial uniform could disguise.
āI don't expect you to trust me.āĀ His voice remained quiet, meant only for her. āI wouldn't, if our places were reversed. But I hope that, someday, when people write about this moment...ā His gaze briefly swept across the room crowded with diplomats, journalists, and history in the making. ā...they'll say it was the beginning of two people choosing to do better than the generations who came before them.ā He inclined his head not as a monarch, but as one human to another. āIt's a pleasure to finally meet you too, Mia.ā
