The Pains of Wealth | Closed RP
Ursa let out a dubious groan, expression tugging into displeasure even as her muscles all complained at the mounting weight of her formal robes.
“I don’t know, that sounds like an awful waste of fabric…” she murmured.
Perhaps that was just the sort of thing they did in the capital, though. She certainly wouldn’t be all that surprised. She’d been witness to many bizarre goings on since she’d come to Caldera some months ago, prepared to live anywhere other than the backwood that her family had raised her in.
Being from a poor, country, noble family (disgraced, her mother had said – we do not speak of him), Ursa had never been surrounded by all that much finery. The South had been a good hiding place for her to grow up in, far away from the Court that her mother so feared, and her father so longed for. But it had meant that they were little better than peasant labourers anyway.
Any pension that might have been afforded to other noble families had never been available for them. They had worked the land and sold their crops as a means to an end – feed themselves and their tenants. Keep the little town that her father oversaw running and the people relatively happy. As happy as could be expected.
Draft them into the military where possible.
Maybe she could have the many layers of this impossible outfit sewn into several outfits. Surely her new father-in-law could have no objection – or Ozai.
“It could be salvaged for clothing for our children. Whenever…We have children,” Ursa said aloud. Her face heated despite her desires regarding the matter. She swallowed around a suddenly dry throat.
“You must be so proud of your brother; for his achievements in the Earth Kingdom. They’re very impressive.”
As soon as the words left her mouth she knew she ought to have known better. Ozai hated it when she talked about Iroh. He hated it when anyone talked about Iroh.
She closed her eyes, bracing herself.
“If that is what the princess desires,” Ozai hummed simply, the barest traces of laughter spilling from his chest.
Of course, the concept had no meaning to him. They were of unfathomable wealth–anything the royal family wanted was served to them.
…Except for him and his requests to be more than a dainty little doll, on display in case…
All traces of humor vanished from his expression as the topic shifted to Iroh. It always did–the beloved crown prince–it aggravated him to no end that even his wife–HIS WIFE–seemed to prefer his brother over him.
He straightened, back stiff, ripples of tension rumbling through his arms. He didn’t quite glare at her, but, the expression grew darker, instead landing on something past her.
The servants, too, grew tense. They knew, as they should, to be wary of Ozai’s ire.
“I suppose, given the great city’s reputation, it’s rather impressive.” The grumble was not free of its own awe–no, Ozai, despite appearances, was well aware of Iroh’s greatness.
He merely wished it didn’t overshadow his own.
“I still maintain that my services could be better used there than here.”
His anger did not lash out at her like licking flame, as she’d expected it to do...Ozai’s anger, she had come to discover, was more...Delicate than that. Pervasive. It got under the skin to make one feel lesser than --
At least, that seemed to be the goal, in any case.
Calm, letting out a slow breath through her teeth, Ursa silently dismissed the servants who were still busy draping her in her elaborate outfit and gathered up the volumes of her skirts, stepping gingerly away from the dais she’d stood on to be dressed. She knew some things for certain, after having lived amongst the royal family for just short of a year:
One; Ozai was in many ways actually invaluable to the Fire Lord. He ran a great number of the industries which were integral to keeping the Nation afloat in the war, on a path of forward momentum.
Two; despite this, Ozai seemed unable to see what a great boon his more...Administrative role in his father’s court was to the Fire Lord and to his own reputation.
Three; her husband’s ego was fragile. It would be better, she knew, to play it up, and to remind him that he was capable of more than just firebending...Of more than his father wished him to think himself capable.
He could be Fire Lord if he chose to be, she thought. Iroh was intelligent, and charismatic...He knew what to say and when to say it. ‘A people person’, much like Ursa herself. But his march of progress was slow. He clung to the old ways the way that Azulon clung to them, and though there was certainly merit in doing things the way they’d always been done...
Ursa laid a gentle, firm, hand on the crook of her husband’s elbow, feeling the heat of his skin through the layers of fabric he wore, looking up into his drawn and pallid face. He needed to sleep more, and worry less, she thought. She let her gaze fall from Ozai’s strong cheekbones and jaw and out toward the garden, viewable through the open screens which revealed the walkway of their small palace beyond. The foliage was bright green, waving in a breeze off of the bay beyond the imperial city’s walls.
“I know that you wish to serve on the frontline,” Ursa said at length, turning her attention back to Ozai after she had thought a little more about what she should say to him, “and that is a very noble desire...But not all men and women in the Fire Nation can go to war. Who would run the country in their absence? I’ve only been here a short time, and I know that I’m an outsider but -- as an outsider...I can’t help but notice a few things that I think maybe someone who’s spent their whole life embroiled here might not...”
Ursa rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, wetting it. It was a mistake. Whatever herb they’d used to create the red stain settled on her mouth was bitter. Camillia maybe?
She was getting sidetracked.
“It seems to me that the Fire Lord has a much greater need of you here at the palace. You understand its machinations far better than some others, and that strength serves as your father’s strength.” Ursa shrugged delicately. “I don’t see how he could keep things together without you here to guide the ship with a firm hand.”