Chapter 83
Coal Island. Residence of the Fire Lord's family. Ursa's chambers.
Seated in a woven chair was one of the most beautiful women of the entire Fire Nation, who, despite her age, could easily rival younger maidens. As she combed her long, dark hair, the woman seemed lost in thought, her mind far away. Her slightly furrowed brows did not diminish her natural beauty but only hinted at the worries gnawing at her...
"Every time you tell yourself, enough, stop, don't do it, and every time you break your own promises..." thought Ursa, sinking deeper into the familiar, sweet feeling called "love." It was something she had only experienced in her youth, when she was about to marry Ikem.
"He probably thinks I'm a fallen woman, allowing myself such debauchery..." she began to dwell on another unpleasant thought.
"If only Mother were here, she'd surely give me some sound advice," another fleeting thought crossed her mind. "No, I can't write to them! That's not why I've stayed silent for so many years. I don't want them dragged into palace intrigues or to become victims of these rotten people!"
"Everything is so complicated," she sighed, the words escaping with a weary breath.
Setting aside the comb, she once again tried on her evening gown, specially brought for the traditional family theater outing.
She knew well that in many political marriages, mutual feelings didn't always develop. In such cases, husbands often took mistresses, and sometimes wives did the same, though with men, provided their families were powerful enough to prevent their husbands from dictating terms. The main thing was for her to bear him a male heir, and after that, they simply needed to keep their extramarital affairs discreet, presenting a happy and prosperous family to the public.
"I've fulfilled my duty, right? So maybe I can live a little for myself?" she thought uncertainly, assessing her figure in the gown. "It wasn't for nothing that I started exercising," she noted with satisfaction, acknowledging her obvious progress.
"Dimmed lights, the last row, just the two of us..." Ursa had already forgotten her warnings, fully imagining how their theater outing would unfold, with their usual private box reserved.
Uninvited, memories of the first day he had touched her with his fingers flooded her mind. She immediately felt a pleasant tingling in her already moistening core, forcing her to change her underwear again. She hadn't thought that even without true intimacy, such a strong effect was possible. It could become an addiction...