A few weeks after the engagement, unrest began to stir in the Fire Nation. Whispers and rumors spread like wildfire, fueled by the fact that Kira was neither a firebender, nor royalty, nor even from the Fire Nation. Harsh voices claimed she did not deserve to be the Fire Lady.
Despite the growing murmurs, Zuko and Kira paid little attention to the discussions. They were determined to stay focused on their duties and each other.
The morning sun filtered through the curtains as Kira quietly entered the kitchen, determined to surprise Zuko with a romantic breakfast in bed. She had everything planned perfectly: freshly baked pastries, exotic fruits, and a special herbal tea blend known for its invigorating properties. She smiled to herself, imagining Zuko’s surprised and delighted expression, a momentary escape from the chaos that had gripped their lives.
Balancing the tray carefully, she made her way to Zuko's chambers. Gently pushing the door open, she found Zuko buried under a mountain of blankets, looking pitiful. He was pale, with a red nose and dark circles under his eyes. His breathing was raspy, and he looked up at her with watery eyes, his usual fierce and determined eyes now clouded with pain and frustration.
"Good morning, my love," Kira said cheerfully, setting the tray down beside the bed. "I made you breakfast."
Zuko tried to respond, but only a croak came out. He coughed weakly, then pointed to his throat, his face a picture of misery.
Kira raised an eyebrow. "Lost your voice, huh?"
Zuko nodded pitifully, then pointed to his head and mimed a headache. He followed this with a mock sneeze, then clutched his stomach, all while maintaining the expression of a man on the verge of death. Kira felt a knot of worry tighten in her chest as she watched his labored breathing.
Kira couldn’t help but laugh, trying to mask her anxiety. "Zuko, you’re such a drama king. It’s just a cold."
Zuko shook his head fervently, then pointed to himself and mouthed, "Fire Lord."
"Right, right, Fire Lord with the dreaded man flu," Kira teased, sitting on the edge of the bed. She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. "You do have a fever, though. Let me get my herbs and remedies. We’ll have you back to your old, brooding self in no time."
Leaving Zuko to wallow in his misery, Kira went to her room to gather her herbalist supplies. She returned with an assortment of herbs, salves, and vials, ready to nurse her fiancé back to health. Outside, she could hear the hurried footsteps of servants and the low murmur of worried voices. The palace was in a state of upheaval, and Kira knew time was of the essence.
She set to work, preparing a special tea blend known for its soothing properties. "Here, drink this," she said, handing Zuko a steaming cup. "It’ll help with the fever and soothe your throat."
Zuko took a small sip, then winced. "It tastes like dirt," he croaked, managing to find his voice just long enough to complain.
Kira rolled her eyes. "It’s medicine, Zuko. It’s not supposed to taste good."
Next, she applied a cooling salve to his forehead and chest. "This will help with the congestion," she explained, her hands gentle but firm. Outside Zuko’s chambers, the usually serene palace was in a state of upheaval. Servants rushed through the corridors, their faces pale with fear. Murmurs of treachery and poison spread like wildfire, each whispered word adding to the growing sense of dread.
Zuko watched her through half-lidded eyes, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. "You’re too good to me," he rasped.
Kira smirked, trying to mask her own growing anxiety. "Well, it’s either that or letting you wallow in your own misery. Besides, this is the perfect learning opportunity for my academy students. I should probably bring them all in here to see how it’s done."
