Her gaze darted back and forth between them, stunned and mortified that the royal heirs saw her in such a state. She opened her mouth to greet them, to kowtow at their feet but the Princess simply made a sound of disgust before rolling her eyes and continuing on her way.

"Not another one," a raspy voice said quietly.

"P-prince Zuko-" she stuttered as she moved to bow to him. She did not even have her knees bent half an inch before a warm hand grasped her arm. She flinched at the touch, shying away from the pain that shot from the bruises.

"None of that, come on. I'll get you taken care of," he said guiding her through the door from which he had just come. He led her through a few halls and doorways, then into a large sitting room. He perched her on a plush chair with clawed feet and then disappeared into another chamber. He came back a moment later with a bowl and small towel in his hands. He dragged another chair up, so close that their knees brushed. He had set the bowl down on a small table and wet the wash rag. She flinched when he brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and he gave her a sympathetic look.

He dabbed at the marks on her neck making her wince but the cool water felt good to the broken flesh. The Prince was very gentle and did not speak. It was obvious he knew what had went on between her and his father. He pushed the robes from her shoulder so he could reach the other vicious marks. She leaned back and pushed his hand away, yanking the silk back up. She was too ashamed of herself despite this whole thing bein Agni's will. "I'm sorry, please just let me help you," the prince said softly, catching her eyes. His face was handsome, the spitting image of his sire, except the horrid burn of course. But his eyes were so different they may as well have been blue.

They were the same liquid gold but there was softness there, not the hard glint of Ozai's gaze. She knew he meant well and that he would not take advantage of her in any way. So she allowed him to push her robe aside again and dab the dried blood from her wounds. She did not look at him, embarrassed that the Prince of the Fire Nation was caring for her as if she were a child. (Not to mention the nature by which her injuries had come).

She found herself a few minutes later sitting in her underwear, a silk sheet pressed against her front as Prince Zuko tended to her back. He was rubbing a cooling gel on the small burns when he spoke in a small voice, "I'm sorry."

"What?" She asked completely taken aback.

"I'm sorry my father did this to you."

"I think you misunderstand, it was… payment… for my transgressions. I didn't have enough money."

"I know. And he told you that your virginity was the only thing valuable enough for your sins too, right?" He growled.

"H-how did you know?" She asked peeking over her shoulder but he didn't look up at her. He just continued cleaning her scrapes and bruises.

"I know because you're not the first homeless girl to come to my father for help."

She felt as though her heart stopped beating. Was Prince Zuko saying what she thought he was? Was this a regular occurrence for the Fire Lord? "He said it was the only way though…"

"He lied"

"You mean that I- I gave- m- my…" she stammered, too shocked to form a coherent sentence.

"He tricked you." He took a breath. "You didn't deserve this," he said softly, almost as if he hadn't meant for her to hear.

The tears started silently but then turned into huge, wracking sobs. Her mind was plagued with memories of the previous night and her gut twisted at the unforgiving truth that this was all just a ruse, some sick scheme to get her in his bed.

Strong hands held her elbows as she tried to sort herself out. "Calm down ok, just breathe. Please don't cry," the Prince said softly.

"I- I think I'm going to be sick," she forced out. A trash bin was suddenly between her feet and she lost the contents of her stomach into it. She was shaking, her tears drowning her sight and it felt like she couldn't breathe.

"Listen Miss… " he asked

"Katara."

"Listen, Katara. You have got to calm down you're going to throw yourself into a fainting spell or something."

"H-he said it was ok, he said Agni told him it was ok! I thought it was just- that it was just supposed to be business… He said my brother would live and now I've messed up again! He's going to die! Sokka's going to die because of me!" She cried aloud, attempting to grasp the truth and yet still trying convince herself otherwise.

"Sokka? That's your brother's name?" Zuko asked gently, steadying her face with his hand. The blue-eyed girl nodded in response. "Is he hurt? Sick?"

"Yes," she sobbed. "He's sick with fever."

"There's no need to worry. Where are you staying? I'll have a physician sent to him."

Katara's head snapped up at this. "Y-you would? But you're the Prince… I haven't done anything to deserve your help…"

"I am not a cruel man, Katara, I wont let your brother die. I help people, it's my job as the Prince of this nation. Now tell me, where do you live?"

"He's staying with a woman two streets behind the Golden Tea Shop…in a house with a green door," she supplied.

"He'll be ok, don't worry about him, alright? Let's just worry about you right now." Katara nodded weakly. Zuko nodded his head once, sharply and left the room. He came back a moment later with a robe thrown over his arm. "Here, I thought you might feel more comfortable in this," he said handing the black silk to her. She took it, grateful for the clean clothes, free of the smell of tea and incense. And best of all… it wasn't red.

"The bathroom is right through there if you need to you know, do whatever…" he said awkwardly motioning with his hand. She nodded and thanked him quietly before standing and heading to the bathroom. He watched her with pity as she limped into the bathroom. He just didn't understand how his father could do this to an innocent young lady.

She felt like she needed to use the toilet again even though she had just went. So she did just that and then washed her hands thoroughly. She rubbed her wet palms over her face, only further smearing the leftover makeup. She wiped away the black kohl and leaned over the sink on her elbows. She felt nauseous again, seeing the bite marks on her neck and the bruises on her wrists. She felt the muscles in her jaws tighten and she rest her forehead on the silver spigot but it was no use. She was violently ill into the basin. When she could vomit no more she noticed she was crying. She rinsed her mouth in the sink out and then slid down against the wall, letting her head fall back.

She felt dirty, angry, weak, defiled. She tried to get herself together, mortified she was falling apart in the Fire Prince's washroom. She went to stand only to grimace in pain. She still ached in private places. When she tried to stand again, ("do it quickly this time so it won't hurt so much") pain shot through her and something warm touched the inside of her thighs. She pulled her knees to her chest, hoping to ease the sharp pain. She parted the black robe and found blood again. It was enough to send her into hysterics. She was sobbing uncontrollably, her body shuddering and her voice becoming hoarse.

Prince Zuko burst in through the door a moment later and knelt beside her, asking her what was wrong, why was she crying? Then he saw her robe, hiked up around her thighs, and saw red spots gathering under her legs. His jaw clenched and his cheeks turned red in embarrassment. "I'll… send a lady's maid to help you," he said quietly, rising to allow her some privacy.

Katara sat on the cool tile of the Prince's washroom, trying to stop crying. She felt as if she couldn't move, like she couldn't even form the thoughts to tell her body to stand up. (Stand up you coward.) She was beyond embarrassed, beyond ever wanting to show her face to another person and she wanted out. She was palming her way up, scooting her spine along the wall, but had not made it an inch off the floor when the door cracked open. A woman slid in through the door, allowing just the smallest space for her to squeeze through. Katara appreciated the lady's concern for her privacy. She was pretty, her black hair pulled into a bun, showing off her soft jaw and chin as well as her high cheekbones. If she were not in such a state, Katara would have hoped to be as beautiful when she was that age.

"Alright sweetheart, you just sit right there and Gia will take care of you." Her voice was rougher than anticipated and she bustled around busily but the little heap of a waterbender didn't mind. She was just glad to hear the comforting voice of a fellow woman. "You poor thing, you look like you've seen a ghost! Here, you need to eat something, afterall a full belly always calms the nerves," Gia said offering Katara a morsel of food wrapped in a red napkin. She shook her head, just the thought of food making her nauseous. "Hmm. I've got the just the thing." Gia dug around in her pocket until she retrieved a small wrapper. "It's a mint…candy. It'll help settle your stomach." She pressed the candy into Katara's hand and went back to whatever she was doing at the counter. She reluctantly sucked on the mint was surprised to find it calmed her rolling stomach.

"The Prince has done a fine job," the maid said as she knelt in front of Katara, inspecting the bite marks on her neck. "He's a good man, I envy the woman who marries him one day." She liked how Gia simply talked, her voice was kind and gentle and she wasn't nosy. "Alright, Sweetheart, come and sit on the counter." Katara did as she was told with Gia gently helping her up. Katara was thankful when she found a fluffy black towel folded on the marble surface for her to sit on. The maid wiped the blood from the floor in one quick, discrete swipe, tossing the soiled hand towel next to her bag. "Let's have a look." She lifted Katara's chin, looked at the teeth marks, wiping salve on them as she went. She pushed the sleeves of Katara's robes up and only glanced at the bruises before letting it fall back into place.

The Fire Nation woman pressed her fingers into Katara's ribs, between her hips, around the protruding bones and above her belly button. Gia looked up at her with a sad smile. "There is nothing wrong with you, dear. You were just poorly loved. At her soft, comforting words silent tears rolled down Katara's cheeks. The Fire Nation maid paused and worried her lip with her teeth. "The fool at least gave you contraceptive herbs didn't he?" She hissed quietly.

"Tea," Katara answered, her voice cracking, now understand why the drink had tasted so foul.

"Good, it would benefit no one to have an illegitmate child of the Fire Lord running around, burdening his poor mother."

"How did you know it was Fire Lord-"

"I saw you last night in his corridor." She let out a breath through her nose and shook her head. "I brought you extra bindings and linen strips," she said shuffling through her bag, handing the cloth over to Katara. "Now, if the bleeding continues I suggest you see a real physician," she said with a brighter face. Katara nodded, murmured a quiet thanks and gingerly lowered herself to her feet. She winced as her weight was once again settled on her tender muscles. She changed stiffly into the new wrappings, putting the linen in the bottom like she would if she were having her moon blood.

As Katara was leaving Gia spoke. "You're a good girl, Sweetheart. Agni is not angry with you.

Katara did not see Prince Zuko as she left the palace, only guards and servants who glared at her and turned their noses up as if she were a common prostitute.

She did not return to Sokka for two days, too ashamed to face him. What would he think of her? She felt she was no better than a woman of the night, now.

So long as she kept the collar of the black robe pulled up the bites were invisible to prying eyes. The bruises on her wrists were now yellowed and brown, almost the same shade as her skin. Any other marks left on her by Ozai were hidden under clothes. There were no more excuses for putting off rejoining Sokka. She dreaded it. She felt as if every passing glance in the alleys and markets were accusing, knowing glares. She felt as though everyone knew her secret. The evidence of what she had done was no longer apparent, her wounds were healing and she had washed the smell of the palace from her skin the day she left. She had brushed her hair and procured new clothes, stuffing the expensive black robe in a leather bag she begged someone for. Now, she would just have to deal with her inner demons, the dragons in her heart and mind that spit fire of shame and anger, seeking to destroy any peace left.