𝑯𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏

Chapter thirty
Aang

The night in the Fire Nation was heavy with heat, even beneath the stars. The palace rose in the distance like a fortress, its outline broken by lanterns casting soft, flickering shadows. I crouched just beyond the garden wall, close enough to catch snatches of distant conversation, far enough to stay unseen.

I didn't know why I was hiding. Maybe it was cowardice. Maybe it was the sight of so many people gathered here. I had arrived a while earlier, intending to slip into the palace unnoticed, but found it full—nobles, diplomats, figures of status, all here for whatever gathering Zuko had called. Their voices drifted like smoke, weaving through the still air, thick with formality. I couldn't just walk in now, not with all of them watching.

Not with her at the heart of it.

Inara stood by the palace entrance, a shadow draped in moonlight, poised as if carved from the night itself. Her gown shimmered faintly, catching the glow of nearby lanterns, elegant and still. She moved with the quiet confidence of someone who knew the eyes of others were always on her, acknowledging each guest with a subtle tilt of her head. But every few moments, her gaze swept the courtyard—sharp, precise, searching for something, or someone. It was like she could sense me out here, lingering in the shadows it made a shiver run down my back.

I wasn't sure what I'd expected when I came. Maybe that I could talk to her, maybe explain myself. But watching her now, surrounded by Zuko's guests, her composure unbreakable, I knew that was a foolish thought. There was no room for me in this scene, no space for my apologies or explanations.

I couldn't approach her like this. Not now. Not after everything.

Inara wouldn't want me here, and she had every right to feel that way. I had kept my distance for days, hoping that the space would cool the anger she had for me, that it might give me time to gather my words.

I stayed hidden in the shadows, uncertain of what to do next. If I stepped out into the open, I risked making everything unravel faster than it already had. But if I stayed, I was only prolonging the inevitable.

An idea slithered into my brain—one that teetered on the edge of brilliance or disaster, with nothing in between. The kind of idea that'd either make Inara less angry or make her rearrange my face. But then again, I've never had much of a survival instinct.

With the quietness of a shadow and the ease that comes with airbending, I slipped unnoticed around the perimeter of the palace, moving toward the side I knew led to her quarters. Each step felt like I was skirting the line between bravery and complete foolishness, but I kept moving, heart thudding in my chest.

I caught glimpses of movement from the gathering the other side—nobles with their stiff backs and even stiffer conversations. Meanwhile, I was about to break into someone's room. But, you know, priorities.

Her balcony loomed above me, the only thing standing between me and what was definitely the worst decision of my life.

But hey, it's not like I could not do this.

One quiet breath, and I let the air lift me, the gentle force wrapping around my frame like an old friend. It wasn't hard, just second nature at this point. In seconds, I was at her balcony. Smooth. Quiet. Totally stealthy.

I landed without so much as a whisper, The curtains swayed in the soft breeze, and I slipped through them, creeping into her room like some overly dramatic spy who didn't think things through.

And to state the obvious —I hadn't thought this through at all.

I stood in the middle of Inara's room, taking in the quiet, careful stillness of the space. The dim light from the balcony cast long shadows over everything, turning the dark wood of her furniture into silhouettes. Everything about it was orderly, like her—the bed made with military precision, the desk clean except for a single stack of papers, all perfectly aligned. Of course. No chaos, no clutter. Just her, in the details, subtle and controlled.