Queen''s Shadow

by E. K. Johnston

  “Are you trying to make something up to me?” Tonra asked a bit later, catching her hands and holding them above her head.

  “No,” she said, then: “Maybe? I don’t know. I am not embarrassed.”

  “I know that,” Tonra said. He laughed.

  “Stop laughing at me,” she demanded.

  “You said you weren’t embarrassed!” he said.

  “Well I am now!” She pulled out of his grip, squirmed out from underneath him, and sat on the edge of the bed.

  They were in his room because she was sharing with Dormé, but since they were all guests of the queen, Tonra rated a suite on account of his rank. No one had bothered to correct the rather staid room assignments given out by the protocol droid that served as Breha’s chamberlain. Compared with the apartment on Coruscant, it was unspeakably luxurious. Tonra let her have some space. He was very good at this, and usually she was, too, but with the decrease in tension everywhere else in her life, she barely knew how to handle herself, let alone someone else.

  “I like you like this,” he said. “The part where you have feelings and let me see them right away.”

  “It won’t last,” she said.

  “I know,” he said. “You can like something even when you know it’s not going to last.”

  Sabé thought about queens and terms of office and criminal trials for credit-obsessed despots, and then realized that might not be what he was talking about.

  “I’ll be fine,” he promised. “Come back.”

  “You have terrible timing, Captain,” she said, sliding between the sheets. “You should have waited until I was finished figuring everything out.”

  “Probably,” he conceded.

  By the time the sun came up, Sabé was feeling almost like her old self. It was their last day on Alderaan. Due to travel times and orbital mechanics, they were leaving just after Alderaanian sundown to arrive on Naboo at midday. They’d be tired, but that was normal for interplanetary travel, and Sabé was looking forward to finally getting home.

  She slid out of bed and got dressed, then went back to her room. Sabé went into the washroom and finished her preparations for the day. She had selected a long ivory tunic with a wide blue belt to wear over leggings in the same color, and her regular boots. By the time she came back into the bedroom, Dormé had returned and was already clad in a set of green robes. Since she didn’t have to wear the hood up, she took a bit more time with her hair, but long practice had made her efficient.

  “Padmé would like you to have breakfast with her,” Dormé said. “It will just be the two of you.”

  Handmaidens were the souls of discretion, which meant that Sabé and Dormé didn’t have much to gossip about. She missed the ease of the relationships she’d had with her cadre, but she respected Dormé and the others too much to make a fuss.

  “Thank you,” Sabé said. “Do you need help packing while you see to the senator’s things?”

  “I’ll be all right, thank you,” she said. “The robes make traveling fairly easy.”

  A handmaiden’s travel case was usually about the size of one holding a single outfit of Padmé’s, thanks to Naboo’s unique style, which Sabé knew quite well, but there was never any harm in being polite.

  She went down the hall to the suite where Padmé was staying and knocked. A droid opened the door and admitted Sabé after a brief moment of mechanical contemplation.

  “Good morning!” Padmé hadn’t dressed for the day yet, indicating that this breakfast was quite informal.

  “The same to you,” Sabé replied.

  “Come and sit,” Padmé said, indicating the table where two steaming bowls were waiting.

  Padmé’s suite was one room bigger than Sabé’s because it included a receiving room, which was where they were to eat. Like every other room in the palace—and on all of Alderaan, as far as Sabé could tell—it was elegantly decorated in a minimalist yet beautiful style. The windows looked out over the city, but even that view was pretty.

  Sabé sat down and waited for Padmé to do the same before she began to eat. Padmé sprinkled some of the sour berries that were currently in season into her bowl, but Sabé passed on them when offered.

  “I know I said we would talk on Naboo,” Padmé said. “But I thought here might be better.”

  It would be hard for them to arrange a private conversation when they were home. Sabé had seen Padmé’s schedule, and it was already stacking up.

  “Are you going to go back to Coruscant?” Sabé asked.

  “I am, for at least one more session,” Padmé said. “Working with Senators Organa and Mon Mothma, I have seen what it takes to be good at this. I’ve learned that I can be that adaptable, but I don’t know if I want to be. They can reduce policy to ideas, and I have trouble forgetting the people who will be affected. At the same time, I also don’t know who Naboo would send in my stead. The queen might think I am the best choice, but I am not so sure.”

  “We could always steal the ship,” Sabé said. “I am sure we can talk Varbarós into it, and then we could go wherever we liked.”

  “When you’re serious about something, you always start with the most ridiculous premise,” Padmé said. “Does it have anything to do with the report I get from Artoo every morning about you sneaking back into your room?”

  “I was hardly sneaking. That chamberlain droid did offer to switch us all on the second day, but everyone had already unpacked,” Sabé told her. She paused thoughtfully, and Padmé braced for something ridiculous. “Though I suppose if we did take the ship, it would undermine all the work you’ve started to put into your antipiracy legislation.”

  Padmé made a face. She hadn’t been able to form her own committee, since the official position of the Senate was that the piracy wasn’t a single issue. They refused to acknowledge the pattern of attacks that indicated to Padmé that the problem was larger than a few strikes against convoys carrying food or building supplies. All she could do was continue to argue hypotheticals with Mon Mothma, and hope that when the time for real action did arrive, someone would listen to her.

  “I think you might be the only person on Coruscant who reads all the Senate news,” she said.

  “You do it,” Sabé said, as if it were obvious. “So I do.”

  “Do you ever wish we’d never met?” Padmé asked. Sabé froze. “I mean, do you ever wish you hadn’t taken Captain Panaka’s offer and just lived a private life on Naboo?”

  Anyone overhearing them might be surprised at their formal manner, mistaking it for a lack of affection. In truth, the very foundation of their friendship—not to mention their personal safety on more than one occasion—nested in that formality. It was difficult to explain, particularly because they were equally good at teasing each other, but it was no less genuine just because outsiders found it unusual.

  “And become third best halliket player in my family?” Sabé said. “Not for a moment.”

  “Your brothers are famous,” Padmé pointed out.

  “And I would have always been in their shadows,” Sabé said. “Your shadow is much nicer, trust me.”

  “No matter how long I go back to Coruscant for, I think we might want to reconsider your role,” Padmé continued as if there had been no diversion.

  “How do you mean?” Sabé poured herself a cup of tea and added more sweetener than usual. She found the tea on Alderaan to be stronger than she preferred.

  “I’m not sure that level of security is called for,” Padmé said. “The newsnets have backed off, and there’s been not so much as a whiff of danger since that first attempt, and that was months ago. We can think of something else for you to do, but I feel like I sent you into exile, first on Tatooine and then on Coruscant, and you could come back.”

  “We were going to go back to Tatooine after Coruscant,” Sabé reminded her. “Tonra might have changed his mind—though I doubt it—but I haven’t.”

  “I remember,” Padmé said. She made a face like it physicall
y pained her to continue speaking. “But I’m still hopeful the Chancellor’s motion will have a better chance in its next round, and if word gets out I’m meddling on Tatooine directly, I’ll be right back where I started: too much of an independent for anyone to trust. I hate having to make this kind of choice.”

  “I don’t envy you, certainly,” Sabé said. “But at the same time, I also think you should have me remain undercover for a while longer, and Tonra with me. Gunray’s trial will be winding down soon, and depending on which way it goes, that will change the threats to you. If I’m at large, I can maintain my newsnet sources—and my other sources that we don’t talk about—and find out what’s going on.”

  “I hate Neimoidians,” Padmé said grimly, stabbing her spoon into the bowl. It was rare for her to visibly indulge her feelings, even with Sabé, when they were offworld. “And I hate how much I hate Neimoidians.”

  “They’ve been responsible for a lot of death and suffering,” Sabé said. “I think you’re allowed to hate them.”

  “I shouldn’t dismiss an entire species,” Padmé said. “That kind of thinking almost tore Naboo apart, and even though it was a long time ago, it’s taken forever to patch things up again.”

  “I don’t know why anyone ever thinks they can’t trust you,” Sabé said. “You’re so honest it hurts.”

  “Honestly, I think that’s why they don’t trust me,” Padmé said. “They keep waiting for me to turn.”

  “Politics makes me tired,” Sabé admitted. “It never used to, but it does now. And I still like it for some reason.”

  “Possibly we’re too close,” Padmé said, so seriously that Sabé knew it was a jest. “We’ve been in too long, and there’s no escaping.”

  “Now who is being ridiculous?” Sabé asked. She drained her tea and took the last bite of her breakfast. Their stolen moment was nearly done.

  “Do you like him a lot?” It was a shy question, and it didn’t come from the senator but from Padmé Naberrie. “Tonra, I mean?”

  “Yes,” Sabé said.

  “Do you like him enough?”

  “I don’t know,” Sabé said. “We’ve talked about it, so it’s not like I’m leading him on. And I warned him. A lot. And he’s known me, us, for a long time.”

  “You’re protecting him.” It wasn’t quite a question. As usual, they walked the line of their peculiar bond with perfect symmetry.

  “I don’t want to be callous,” Sabé said. “So in a way, I am protecting myself, too.”

  Padmé finished her own breakfast and looked out the window. It was going to be another glorious day.

  “I don’t know what I’d do,” Padmé said. “I’ve guarded my heart against everything for so long, always aware of the dynamics and the flow of power. I’ve been lucky to find so many people who understand that and give me that space. I’m afraid that if someone breaks through, I’ll let them, and it would be catastrophic.”

  “It’s not a reactor leak,” Sabé said.

  Padmé never spoke to her about matters of the heart, largely, Sabé suspected, out of respect for privacy. She wondered who Padmé was thinking of that made her do it now, or if Padmé was merely intrigued by the prospect of whatever she imagined Sabé was getting up to. She wasn’t the jealous type, but she’d always been curious, and Sabé rarely did anything first.

  “Maybe you should let someone break through a little bit,” Sabé suggested. “To see how it goes.”

  “Do you really think that would work?” Padmé asked.

  “It’ll have to be someone who understands you,” Sabé said. “Which will be a challenge to find, but if you wanted to, you could at least look.”

  “I might.” Padmé rolled her shoulders, and the Naberrie fell away from her. “Will you help me dress?”

  Sabé breathed in, completely comfortable.

  “My hands are yours,” she said.

  It was a simple outfit for the last day, with limited jewelry and hair that was so straightforward Padmé could almost have done it herself. Sabé laid out the traveling dress, as well, for Padmé to change into when evening came. Then Cordé and Versé came in to pack. This time Sabé didn’t leave. She both did and did not have a place amongst them, but she was going to take advantage of proximity to the senator while she could. She put a brave face on living in that apartment on Coruscant, and Tonra had always been excellent company, but she missed her friend and the feeling of self-possession Padmé always managed to conjure in her. Dormé joined them.

  “Varbarós says that the ship is ready whenever you are,” she reported. “She took the time to refit a few of the components that had been annoying her over the past few months, and yesterday she went on a quick trip around the system to shake everything down.”

  “And your guards have everything squared away.” This was from Mariek, who had entered the room without knocking, because they would have missed the sound in all of their bustle.

  “Excellent,” Padmé said. “I hope you have all enjoyed our time here, but I must admit, I will be so happy to see the waterfalls of Theed again.”

  Sabé dismissed herself and went to finish her own packing. Dormé’s half of the closet was empty, and it took Sabé almost no time at all to stow her own things. She hauled the carrying case out into the hallway and saw the little astromech unit coming out of Typho’s room, pushing the sergeant’s case on a hovercart.

  “Hey,” she said to get the droid’s attention. He turned to aim his photoreceptor at her. “You can take mine to the ship, too, you little blue snitch.”

  The droid beeped something that translated vaguely to “All’s fair with standard programming,” and Sabé placed her case on top of Typho’s.

  “Thank you,” she said, because she was still polite, and also because the droid had saved her life once and also helped save the entire planet on a separate occasion.

  The droid chirruped and went on his way.

  The day was quiet, with Padmé and Breha spending most of it in close conversation. Senator Organa sought Sabé out once again, and she didn’t mind his company, either. He knew when to stop talking and when to explain every minute detail of whatever artwork she was looking at.

  “Everyone who has ever seen you has underestimated you, haven’t they?” he said. It was the most direct thing he had said to her all week, but she was expecting it.

  “I encourage them to,” she replied. “I am small. I carry only a single blaster. And I’m usually wearing something much less practical-looking than these.”

  She gestured at her tunic and leggings.

  “The Trade Federation has ugly priorities,” Organa said. “I don’t talk about it much on Coruscant because it would cost me too much political capital for no good reason, but here I can be a bit more honest. I don’t like the way they operate, and their willingness to use droids to kill sentient beings is unsettling.”

  “I’m not entirely sure what you’re saying, Senator,” Sabé told him.

  “I’m glad she has you to protect her,” he said. “I’m glad they’ll always underestimate you, if they are even smart enough to figure out you exist. I’m glad she has you.”

  “It is my honor to serve,” Sabé said, and she knew he understood.

  As the day drew to a close, the last dinner was eaten and the last toast was said. They witnessed a glorious sunset over lake and snowcapped mountain peak, and then the queen and her husband escorted them to the platform where their ship awaited. Varbarós stood at the bottom of the ramp to welcome them aboard. Their farewells were brief but heartfelt, and then Senator Amidala took her formal leave of Queen Breha Organa of Alderaan.

  “We thank you again for your welcome and hospitality,” Padmé said. The senatorial voice was much warmer than the royal one, and Sabé knew that developing it for situations like this had been worth the effort. “We look forward to our continued joint efforts with both you and your world’s senator as we work together to create and preserve a legacy of peace in the galaxy.”


  “We look forward to it as well,” Queen Breha replied. Senator Amidala gave the smallest of bows and then boarded the ship.

  As the ship climbed into orbit, Sabé took a seat in the cockpit once more and stared out into the emerging stars. They sang to her of home, and soon they were racing past her as she flew along her way.

  The covered walkways that led from Theed’s royal spaceport to the palace doors had never seemed so welcoming. Each step Padmé took was farther into the familiar, and as she looked around at the much-loved architecture of the capital, she felt better than she had in months. Alderaan had been a wonderful place to visit, but it wasn’t hers, and she was glad to be back on Naboo. Soon she would truly go home.

  First, though, there was her meeting with the queen. Réillata had been quite gracious in her response when Padmé informed her of the invitation to visit Breha, but she knew that the Queen of Naboo was even more eager to speak with her than the Queen of Alderaan had been. Padmé understood. Her relationship with then-Senator Palpatine and his successor had been calm, save for the Invasion of Naboo, but whenever they returned to the planet, she was always ready to hear their reports.

  Mariek and Typho had both begun their leave, so it was Tonra who served as their official escort to the palace, though of course Queen Réillata had sent her own guards, as well. Versé had gone with her aunt, and Varbarós had stayed with the ship, as she usually did. So they were a smaller party than they might have been, and Padmé couldn’t help feeling that something she couldn’t quite describe was ending.