Zuko made his way to find Azula, remembering his conversation with... did he call her Amaya? It felt easier to refer to her as such, even if she wasn't exactly the same as the old Amaya.
Angrier, but also mischievous.
He found her with servants pampering her, Azula's long hair being combed with an ornate gold comb.
"Hello, Zu-zu," she said lightly. "If you've come for a royal hair combing, I'm afraid you'll have to wait."
"I've heard there's a big war meeting coming up," he tried probing, not sure if Amaya was still only a figment of his paranoia or really real.
Well... sort of really real.
"Yep," she answered lightly.
"Sounds like I'm not welcome to this thing," he said, irritation building up in him.
"What do you mean?" Azula frowned at him. "Of course, you're welcome there."
"I guess that's why no one bothered to tell me about it," he snapped.
Azula eyed him. "Oh, Zuko, don't be so dramatic. I'm certain Dad wants you there. You heard about it, so you probably weren't given an invitation because it was so obvious that you're supposed to be there."
"Well, were you invited?"
"Of course," Azula answered smugly. "I'm the Princess."
"And I'm the Prince!" Zuko snapped.
"Exactly, so stop acting like a paranoid child," Azula gestured at him. "Just go to the meeting."
"Forget it; I'm not going," Zuko growled, stalking away.
Once out of earshot of Azula, he turned a corner to find Amaya leaning on a wall inspecting her nails.
"Sounds like that was a whole lotta nothing," she said lightly.
"Don't you have better things to do?" he snapped.
"Hmm, I could be looking for the other pieces, now that you mention it," she drifted up to the ceiling, where she floated for a bit. "But I'm more interested in what will happen with this meeting thing."
"Why?"
"Because I'm worried, Koko," she answered, genuine sadness in her eyes. "Last time didn't go well for you, remember?"
He reached up and touched his scar, his heart sinking at the memory.
"How could I forget?"
"Just be careful, ok?"