Some plans do not require urgency.
They require patience.
I already knew how this would end.
Mother would one day remove Fire Lord Azulon—not out of ambition, but desperation. Father would ascend the throne, convinced he had finally earned destiny's favor. Zuko would be cast aside, sent chasing ghosts across the world.
And then—
There would be room for me.
I didn't rush these thoughts. I examined them calmly, adjusting variables, testing outcomes. Everything aligned beautifully. Time was on my side.
For now, I occupied myself with maintenance.
The servants' quarters were quiet at this hour. Too quiet. I preferred silence—it made people easier to read.
The maid knelt before me, hands trembling, eyes wide with terror she was desperately trying to suppress. She had disobeyed me earlier that day. A small thing. A delayed response. A moment of hesitation.
Mistakes like that spread.
I couldn't allow that.
"Look at me," I said softly.
She did.
That was her second mistake.
I stepped closer, my presence alone enough to make her flinch. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to. Fear worked better when it felt personal.
"You knew what I asked," I continued calmly. "And you chose not to listen."
"I—I'm sorry, Princess," she whispered. "I won't do it again."
I considered her for a moment.
Apologies were meaningless. Behavior was what mattered.
"I believe you," I said.
Hope flickered across her face.
Then I corrected her.
"But belief isn't enough."
I turned away, signaling to the others waiting in the shadows. They didn't need instructions anymore. They had learned—slowly, thoroughly—what loyalty looked like.
I never had to threaten them.
I simply showed them consequences.
The maid's breathing grew ragged as understanding settled in. I didn't watch closely. There was nothing new to learn from panic anymore.
When it was over, the lesson was complete.
She would never disobey again.
Neither would anyone who heard her afterward.
Later, as I walked the palace corridors, servants bowed deeper than required. Their eyes avoided mine. Their movements were precise. Efficient.
Perfect.
I hadn't ruled through force.
I ruled through certainty.
They believed in my authority more deeply than they believed in Ozai's. Not because I demanded it—but because I was consistent. Predictable. Absolute.
Disobedience had a cost.
Loyalty had rewards.
It was simple.
Back in my chambers, I sat quietly by the window, watching the firelight dance across the walls.
Everything was progressing exactly as planned.
Power didn't need to announce itself.It only needed to be understood.
And everyone in this palace understood me now.