𝓐𝓬𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓒𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷 {𝓐𝓣𝓛𝓐}

Part 5: Parallel

You don't know from where, but the earliest memory you have before being "saved" was a tune. Maybe it was the one your mother used to sing to you, but the word to the lullaby has been long been forgotten. The only thing remaining from those innocent days were empty tunes and whispers of the wind.

As you hum the same tune that now haunted your dreams, the child in your arms is taken by sleep. Her tiny tuft of black hair is still damp from the bath you've given her. You tried to leave her in her crib as you leaned to place her down, but the moment your hands left her tiny body, those big golden eyes of hers were open. Staring at you as if asking where you were going. Her lips pouty as her eyes followed you around.

The action made you wonder if she can actually tell you apart from the others.

Since she wasn't crying, you sat down on your knees and gave her your hand. She grabbed onto your fingers as you wiggled them around. Babbling as if telling you a story while looking between you and your digits.

She tugged on your hand, bringing it to her chest as she stared at you.

You couldn't fight the smile that formed.

The supple flesh that was now under your palm. The warmth that radiated from under your touch made you want to admire the peace that dwelled within you. Your heart tranquil after so much.

A quiet night with a single torch laminating the room.

You wished for this moment to last forever.

It has been a little over a month since you started your new job. Taking care of the youngest member of the royal family was not as hard as you expected it to be.

While you only had observed Princess Ursa attend to her son, you had no prior experience in child-rearing.

Especially when you, yourself are still considered a child. Albeit a deadly one with years worth of experience in combat.

Taking care of Princess Azula wasn't hard. She's far calmer compared to her older brother, who had a tendency to scream when he wanted something.

She was mature in a sense. Rarely cried and only did so whenever something was terribly wrong, be it illness, in need of changing, or a stranger. Though for the latter, she didn't cry, it was more of a physical reaction, she would lean away as far as possible with her little legs kicked up.

The only thing that's worth complaining about is feeding time. The young princess is a good and easy child. She drinks all her milk and thanks you with a happy babble.

The feeding itself wasn't the problem.

No.

The part where it warrants a complaint is how you acquire said milk.

The wet nurse stuck around for the first few days before Prince Ozai fired her. He reasoned that he did not see a reason as to why they must waste funds on something unnecessary when the mother of his child is alive and well, and still producing milk.

Seeing as you were in charge of the princess's well-being, it was your job to make sure the child was well-fed. The wetnurse was out of the question, so the only one you could turn to, with a heavy heart, was the mother.

Similar to how the child wouldn't take to the hired help, the mother was against being in the same room as the newborn. No matter how much you begged she wouldn't back down. She was fully adamant about not letting the baby, her baby, latch on to her.

The child protested as you handed her off to the maid. You needed to go get her milk. 'I'm sorry, but even if it's you who asks of me this, I am not strong enough to hold that child.' She once said. Her hand held your chin up as you were bowing to her. There was no remorse in her eyes.

As you walk down the hall to her Highness's room, you can't help but think back to that previous exchange. Like the color of her eyes, you remember her being warm. But as she talked about her own child, Azula, she looked as if she was referring to an obstacle in her path.

Annoyance.

That's the emotion that you saw. Either at you or your constant groveling or her child, you weren't quite sure. The time you regularly spent with her has been cut in half. The majority of your time is now spent by the child's side.

Cleaning her, changing her, feeding her, and tending to her whenever she cries or needs attention. The only time you go to Princess Ursa is when you need her milk to feed Azula.

And that trip is by far the most unfavoured part of your new daily routine. Which will stick with you till the child is old enough to digest solids.

You made it to her room.

Swallowing dry, you prepared yourself before knocking.

If you care for her so, why don't you extract the milk yourself?

Her words taunted you. Ringing in your head as you walked in.

The way she said those words was wrong. The way she looked at you expectedly was wrong. The way she arched her back and the way she tilted her head were all wrong.

You nodded in acknowledgment as she greeted you.

Ursa was seated on the edge of her bed, in her luscious silk robe, her hair still wet from her bath. Her greeting came with a smile. She lifted her arm, her fingers loose, expecting, as she reached towards you.

A phantom hand squeezed at your heart. Your breath hitching, as you drew in closer to her.

With an open palm and a closed heart, you held her hand. Her fingers wrapped around your wrist as she pulled you in, guiding you toward your knees with unwavering eyes.

She looks down on you... as you began your grueling task of preparing the young princess's meal.

She tugged on your hand, bringing it to her chest as she stared at you.

You couldn't fight the grimace that formed.

The supple flesh that was now under your palm. The warmth that radiated from under your touch made you want to tear at it, to scream and shout. To run away and never look back from the gruesome scene you would be leaving behind.

A quiet night with a single torch illuminating the room.

You begged for this moment to go by faster.