Iroh gave a short bow of filial supplication for his mother, the reigning Fire Lord, returning upright with a more honestly expressive scowl to reflect the pressure, unpleasant though the face was.
"Can we find some place to sit down?" he asked, relenting to the older woman’s suggestion, considering amending his request for a moment before deciding to go through with it. "I think I might want something a bit stronger than tea," he admitted with the low groan, gears in his mind still spinning at the thought of the international situation.
” If you like. ”
If she hadn’t been concerned, there was
no doubt she’d coax him around to tea
one way or another. But truth be told,
even the Fire Lord could understand the
appeal tonight.
Waving him on, she led the way to the
lesser-known of the palace’s kitchens,
sighing with immediate relief to find the
place empty. Save the glassware.
“ Take a seat. You can pick your poison. ”