Roku’s attention turned to his sore feet, his aching arms, his greasy hair, his empty stomach. How he longed for those post-training hours spent at the Royal Spa when he and Sozin would lie back in the steaming tubs of water, sipping tea and snacking on fertilized turtle-duck eggs while servants trimmed their nails, brushed their hair, and massaged their shoulders. Once this conversation with Sister Disha ended, all Roku had to look forward to was a campfire she’d make him light by hand, another meatless meal, a threadbare bedroll, and a hard patch of ground.
Good! Beat that privilege out of Roku!
