𝑯𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆

                Chapter Twelve
Aang

After talking to Inara in the hallway, I headed straight for the palace kitchens, forgetting all about the report I was supposed to deliver to Zuko. My steps were heavy, my mind too tangled to focus on anything else.

I slumped into a chair at the long wooden table, ignoring the curious looks from the kitchen staff. The warmth of the kitchen, the familiar scent of spices and fresh bread, did little to soothe me. I felt like my thoughts were chasing themselves in circles, always coming back to the same impossible person.

Before I could dwell too much on it, a plate appeared in front of me, the clatter pulling me back. I looked up to find Botan, the head chef, standing over me. He had his usual stern expression, but his eyes held something softer.

"You look joyous," Botan remarked with a dry smile, setting down his own plate of cake next to mine. He waved off the kitchen staff, who all scattered, leaving us alone.

"Hi, Botan," I muttered, my voice sounding pitiful even to my own ears. I picked up a fork and poked at the cake. It made me smile a little; it reminded me of all those times Elora and I would sneak in here. I'd always get caught eating things I wasn't supposed to, and Elora would offer "advice" on Botan's cooking because she was determined to learn every dish.

Botan sighed and took a seat across from me. "You're eating like someone told you dessert's banned for the next century," he teased, taking a bite of his own cake.

I dug into mine, hoping the sweetness would help chase away the storm in my head. Elora and I had often used dessert as a way to talk about our feelings—it was like a ritual. Maybe Botan had caught on, or maybe he just knew I needed something to cheer me up.

"Did you and Lady Inara get it on again?" Botan asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp. Everyone knew how well Inara and I got along. "Or did you just find out that cabbage merchant's here again?"

I snorted, despite myself. "Might as well be," I mumbled through a mouthful of cake. "But no, it's Inara... she's just—she's impossible."

Botan nodded slowly, considering his next words. "She's a tough one to figure out, that's for sure." He gave me a knowing smile. "What's she done now?"

"She—nothing specific. Or maybe everything specific?" I threw my hands up, feeling ridiculous. "One minute she's... and then she's acting like she has no emotions at all. And I—" I hesitated, not wanting to say too much. "I just... I don't get her."

Botan chuckled softly. "You think you're the only one who doesn't get her? Lady Inara is like a puzzle with pieces that keep changing shape." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "But from what I've seen, she's not out to hurt anyone. Maybe you just don't know what pieces to look for yet."

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "I just wish... I just wish she'd be straight with me. For once."

Botan clapped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Maybe that's the problem, Aang. You keep expecting her to be something she's not. Inara's not a straight line; she's a maze. And maybe—just maybe—you're taking all the wrong turns."

I looked up at him, my frustration softening into thoughtfulness. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was looking for answers in all the wrong places. I took another bite of cake, feeling the sweetness dissolve on my tongue.

"Thanks, Botan," I said quietly, feeling a little lighter. "I needed that."

"Thanks, Botan," I mumbled, feeling some of the weight lift off my chest. "I needed that."

I took another bite of the cake, savoring the sweetness. For a second, it felt like the world was just sugar and butter and not... whatever mess my life was turning into. Then a thought hit me.