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Zuko suddenly felt his skin heat with white-hot rage. It was a miracle from Agni that flames did not instantly burst from his fingertips as he clutched the table before him, knuckles white. “Excuse me?! You dare place guards before my room, to keep my Fire Lady from exiting?!” He yelled, uncaring if anybody in the other room heard him lash out now. “You had better have a very, very good reason for this, Zhaoran.”
Zhaoran’s expression flickered, obviously offended when Zuko left out his title of High Sage, but at this moment Zuko did not care for respect. The fact that the elder was sitting here unburned was all the respect Zuko could offer through his anger.
“Fire Lord Zuko, today doesn’t just mark your fifth year of union with Fire Lady Katara, but it is also the Day of Black Sun.”
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