Her cover story got worse the more he heard about it. He had hated the hours spent at court, listening to words of wisdom from some of Taravast's most long-winded old rich men but as boring as it was, it wasn't anything as harsh as the prospect of self-immolation.
At least she had six years - he liked to think this group would get it together and find a way out of this well before that - then again, he also didn't know anybody that well to make that judgment based on anything but hope. She was younger than him, and because of that he couldn't help but feel somewhat protective. Even if getting out of this mess really took six years, he didn't think he would be able to sit idly by if Alayne was called to make good on this insane cover.
"What?" Her question about the identity he'd been given pulled him back to the present, and he shook his head, frowning while he worked to quell his embarrassment. "No," Zuko said finally. "I don't like this stupid curfew." Ignoring the way her eyes returned to the scar on his face he diverted his attention towards the pillows she had indicated him to sit on.
He faltered for a moment, uncertain, before taking a seat on the edge of one of the massive cushions, looking as though he were trying to remain ready to spring to his feet in a moment's notice should he need to. "My cover is that my father is a rich, important shipping magnate," Zuko began, the flat tone of his rough voice indicative of his displeasure for the story he had been given. It struck just a little bit too close to home.
"All the old businessmen in this city think it's true, so they try and suck up to my father by talking to me." As crown prince, he was used to things like that happening, but after putting that life aside and becoming a traitor to the Fire Nation, with no idea if he would ever get to go home again, it felt strange to play the role of somebody's honored son.
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At least she had six years - he liked to think this group would get it together and find a way out of this well before that - then again, he also didn't know anybody that well to make that judgment based on anything but hope. She was younger than him, and because of that he couldn't help but feel somewhat protective. Even if getting out of this mess really took six years, he didn't think he would be able to sit idly by if Alayne was called to make good on this insane cover.
"What?" Her question about the identity he'd been given pulled him back to the present, and he shook his head, frowning while he worked to quell his embarrassment. "No," Zuko said finally. "I don't like this stupid curfew." Ignoring the way her eyes returned to the scar on his face he diverted his attention towards the pillows she had indicated him to sit on.
He faltered for a moment, uncertain, before taking a seat on the edge of one of the massive cushions, looking as though he were trying to remain ready to spring to his feet in a moment's notice should he need to. "My cover is that my father is a rich, important shipping magnate," Zuko began, the flat tone of his rough voice indicative of his displeasure for the story he had been given. It struck just a little bit too close to home.
"All the old businessmen in this city think it's true, so they try and suck up to my father by talking to me." As crown prince, he was used to things like that happening, but after putting that life aside and becoming a traitor to the Fire Nation, with no idea if he would ever get to go home again, it felt strange to play the role of somebody's honored son.