Summary: Zhao watches a young man trying to court Princess Azula.
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"Princess Azula," a young man said in his most respectful tone.
From a distance Zhao watched the young man and the princess interact. Azula roll her eyes. He knew she had noticed that the young man was nothing special and wanted nothing to do with him. He could overhear hear parts of their conversation. He couldn't help but find great pleasure with watching the princess deal with her unwanted suitors in her vulgarly technically polite but utterly soul-crushing way.
He knew it was still so soon to make his move. The smell of Zuko's burnt flesh and banishment was still in the air. He was going wait for the right time to make his move.
"He did not meet with your approval?" one of Azula's elderly attendants asked her after the young man left.
"No," Azula said in frustrated voice. "He was just like the others. Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into the riffraff lately. It's like they believe now that my brother has been dishonored they have even half a chance."