At last, they reached the palace steps, and from there Padmé could have found the throne room in her sleep. With Cordé and Dormé trailing behind her—and Sabé even farther to the rear—she entered the bright room and bowed to the woman who waited there.
After months on Coruscant, Réillata’s age no longer seemed as strange to Padmé as it had before. She assumed meeting Breha had helped with that, as well; a queen who was nearing twenty-three was young for most places in the galaxy. Naboo’s culture couldn’t be completely changed so quickly of course, but Breha had given Padmé a great deal of perspective on the subject. The pair of them had had lengthy conversations about experience and preparation, and while Padmé still didn’t think that the system that had produced her was inherently flawed, she was more sympathetic to Réillata’s idea of a second term later in her life.
“Senator Amidala,” Queen Réillata said, “we are happy to receive you home and to hear what you have accomplished. Please, come and take your seat.”
Padmé moved to the empty seat on the queen’s right-hand side, and Dormé and Cordé flanked her. After a moment’s hesitation, Sabé took the second seat on the queen’s right. Together, they faced Sio Bibble across the room, and Saché was seated next to him. It was almost like old times, except no one was concealing her face.
“Governor,” Padmé said politely to Bibble. She made sure not to speak with any of Queen Amidala’s inflections.
“Senator, I have asked Representative Saché to speak on behalf of the planetary government along with the governor and myself,” Queen Réillata said. “I understand that your rapport with her might prove beneficial. We have a lot of ground to cover, and since I denied you a true visit to your parents before you left to take up your Senate seat, I am hoping we can move quickly through our discussions.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Padmé said. It was a thoughtful gesture on the queen’s part.
“Please begin,” Queen Réillata said. She leaned forward, giving all evidence of an attentive listener, and though Padmé couldn’t see their faces, she knew that the queen’s handmaidens were listening even closer.
“I will admit, I did not have the cleanest start to my term as senator,” Padmé said. “There were a great many differences to be learned and mastered, and the orientation was long and onerous.”
“I would have thought that your inclusion in the junior legislative program might have hastened that along,” Sio Bibble said.
“Alas, no. Though it did make several of the informational tours something of a rehash,” Padmé said. “In any case, I joined several committees, the better to incorporate myself into the governing body, including one headed by Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan. I like him immensely and respect him even more, but my initial motivations for working with him were a bit self-serving: he had allies that I wanted.”
It felt like an eternity had passed since that first meeting, and yet in the grander scheme of things, it was almost no time at all.
“In any case, I was moderately successful in that regard,” Padmé continued. “In my first year of service as senator, I have positioned myself so that my voice is respected by senators who control well-placed factions within the voting body. I am hopeful that I will continue to work well with them, though I don’t know that I would be suited to leading such a faction myself, nor am I sure how it would serve Naboo’s interests. Most of the factions are headed by senators from the Core, or have the backing of wealthy corporations.”
“I do not envy you that position,” Saché said. “It sounds terrifically complicated.”
“Nor do I,” said Queen Réillata. “But Naboo is grateful for your service.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Padmé said. “The motions I have helped pass deal mostly with arming convoys to deal with a wave of pirates preying on systems near hyperspace lanes in our part of the Mid Rim. These topics are not easy ones to discuss in the Senate at all. My colleagues are either pacifists, as I would like to be, or they are in favor of proliferation, and there is very little in the way of middle ground. Furthermore, our official position is that the pirates are all acting independently, which means that every time we deal with them, we need new legislation.”
“I am not comfortable with wide-scale arming of anyone,” Queen Réillata said. “But I agree with you that our ideals and our practices may not always line up. The Gungans saved us as much as our own N-1 fighters did, and if we were true pacifists, we would have supported neither.”
“That is usually the argument I make, as well,” Padmé said. “But to someone who has not been invaded, I imagine it is difficult to picture, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I do have an idea, but it will require something from Naboo, and I would need your full support.”
“Please explain,” the queen said. “If we can help, I believe we should. Do you agree, Governor?”
“I do,” Sio Bibble said. “If it is within our measure.”
“Naboo’s recovery from the Trade Federation’s invasion was slow because we did not seek much in the way of outside aid,” Padmé said. “At the time, we decided it was the most reasonable and sustainable course, and we were proved correct. However, we have now recovered almost fully, and I would like to start using a portion of our food stores for charitable ventures.”
“Who are you proposing to feed?” Réillata asked.
“We don’t know very much about the pirates who are currently plaguing ships in Republic hyperspace lanes,” Padmé said. “But we do have some suspicions about where they originated from, even if they have left their home planets behind them. If we focus on sending aid to those planets, perhaps fewer of them will be desperate enough to turn to piracy, and those that do will be less well protected.”
“Starvation was the primary cause of strife in the camps here,” Sio Bibble mused. “People did all sorts of things they would never normally consider because it was the only way they could think of to feed their children.”
“I agree,” Saché said. “Senator, our yields may soon be even better than they were under your reign as queen. Eirtaé’s early experiments have been very encouraging. She has increased the amount of blue-algae, and the farms in the south are already utilizing her harvest. They’ve almost halved the growing season.”
“That’s remarkable,” Padmé said. “She wrote to me about it, but it was highly technical, and I’ll confess that I had so much on my mind, I didn’t ask the questions I should have.”
Eirtaé’s letter had arrived around the time of her attempted assassination, and Padmé had forgotten about it entirely until just this moment.
“I’m sure Eirtaé won’t mind explaining it to you in person,” Saché said. “She’s already presented her preliminary finding to the legislation, and she does it with her art, so we who aren’t botanists can understand her.”
It was, Padmé reflected, remarkable to hear Saché so at ease speaking her mind. She’d never been shy in private, but part of her job had involved staying out of the spotlight. Now that she was in it, she was flourishing. Padmé had never imagined her running for Queen of Naboo, but now she could see it quite clearly. If Saché wanted it, she would have Padmé’s full support.
“I will have the ministers go over the exact numbers,” Sio Bibble said. “But I am sure we can come up with a plan that will satisfy Your Highness and give the senator some room with which to work.”
“Thank you, Governor,” Padmé said.
“Your name is Sabé, is that correct?” Queen Réillata said, addressing Sabé directly.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Sabé said. She showed no surprise that the queen knew her name, but Padmé knew from personal experience how good her bluff was.
“Are you here to talk about aid or arms?” the queen asked.
“Only in a manner of speaking,” Sabé said. She leaned forward so that she was in Padmé’s line of vision. “Senator, with your permission?”
“Of course,” Padmé said.
“I have b
een working as part of the senator’s security detail on Coruscant,” Sabé informed the queen. “Along with Captain Tonra, I have been undercover in one of the capital’s seedier neighborhoods, gathering intelligence on the public opinion of Senator Amidala.”
“Is the public opinion of Coruscant so important to the senator from Naboo?” Queen Réillata asked.
“It is when it involves an attempt on the senator’s life,” Sabé said bluntly.
“Not the Trade Federation again?” Sio Bibble burst out. He could rarely control his emotions on the subject, but Padmé didn’t blame him. He had remained on the planet when she’d gone to ask for help and, in doing so, had essentially supervised a massacre.
“We’re reasonably sure it is,” Sabé said. “Though our investigation is ongoing. When they realized that killing the senator might be impractical, they settled for character assassination instead. The holonews eviscerated her on every imaginable topic, and then none of the other senators would take her seriously.”
“I assume this was part of the reason you needed Senator Organa?” the queen asked.
“It was,” Padmé said.
“There has been a decline in threatening activity since Senator Amidala began to work so closely with Senator Organa and Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila, but with Nute Gunray’s fourth trial drawing to a close, I am reluctant to say the matter is resolved,” Sabé said. “Furthermore, we don’t know what will change when the trial is concluded, no matter how it ends.”
“I agree,” said the queen. “We must do what we can to ensure your safety. Senator, will you walk with me along the terrace?”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Padmé said, rising to her feet. Everyone else rose with her, the queen and her handmaidens a beat behind. “Governor, it was lovely to see you again,” Padmé said.
“Indeed, Senator,” he replied.
He bowed to Queen Réillata and strode out of the room. Saché crossed to Sabé and took her arm.
“Come,” she said. “We have so much catching up to do.”
She sounded so much like the enthusiastic twelve-year-old she once was, that Padmé almost believed she had no political motivations for talking with Sabé. They bowed to the queen and left.
Padmé went to the queen’s side, and the two of them began the careful trek down to the terrace. The queen’s dress was stiff and not the easiest to walk in.
“I sense that you are not eager to return to Coruscant,” Queen Réillata said when there was no one to overhear them but their handmaidens.
“I do not wish to shirk my responsibility,” Padmé assured her. “It’s only that I am not sure if I am the right person for the job.”
“You have given every evidence that you are perfect for the job,” the queen said.
They stepped out onto the terrace, and Padmé took a moment to enjoy the beauty of her own sun, which she had missed.
“I was viewed as something of a wild card,” she admitted. “Everyone in the Senate knows that I called for the replacement of Chancellor Valorum, and because my own senator replaced him, it looks like a setup. I had to distance myself from Chancellor Palpatine to prove my own autonomy, even though he has several projects that are important to me on a personal level.”
“It is this sort of dedication that I think makes you an excellent choice,” the queen said.
“The perception is that I am too loyal to Naboo,” Padmé said. “I went around the Senate to liberate us from the Trade Federation. There are strange undercurrents in the Senate right now. I fear that there are those among us who are starting to doubt the effectiveness of the Republic, and I am doubly afraid that unless I take great care with my actions, I will be labeled as one of them.”
“They fear that if you forced the Republic’s hand before, you would do it again,” Queen Réillata said.
“And they are correct,” Padmé said. “But I would do it for any planet, not just Naboo.”
They walked to the edge of the balcony and looked out on the fields and waterfalls that surrounded Theed. There were flowers in the meadows and birds in the sky.
“I think you must return,” Queen Réillata said. “You must go back and show them that Naboo has the political maturity to do what needs to be done. As you said, I do not wish disaster on any planet, but if you can show the Senate that you will go to extreme lengths for anyone, then perhaps they will understand Naboo’s loyalty remains unchanged.”
“To tell you the truth, I had already decided to return,” Padmé said. “I don’t like backing down from a challenge or shirking my duty when I am needed. I wanted to be sure you understood the full scope of the situation.”
“I do,” Réillata said. “There are others I could send, but it would be another year before they were able to get results. You have done so much work already, I know, and it has been a burden to you, but you have the thanks of a grateful queen.”
Padmé looked out over the vista and considered Réillata’s words. She knew that she would do the exact same thing in the queen’s position, though she had never faced such a dilemma during her reign.
“Do you know why I ran for a second term, Senator?” Réillata asked.
“No,” Padmé said. “Though I admit I have wondered.”
“I was nervous the whole time I was queen, the first go-around,” Réillata said. “But I liked it. I liked helping people. By the end of my term, I had convinced myself that I wasn’t helping enough. My greatest strength was my singing voice, and I thought that was a silly thing for a queen to prize. So I didn’t run again, because I wasn’t perfect for the part. Years later, in the middle of a performance, I realized how ridiculous that was. I could sing arias in front of hundreds and empathize with every person in the room. I could listen just as well as I could speak. So I talked with my family, and I ran again. You have been a large figure to measure up to, but I’m not afraid anymore. I hope you will continue to serve Naboo, and I hope you will continue to enjoy it.”
Padmé let the queen’s words turn over in her mind. It meant a lot, though she could not have articulated exactly how, to hear that Réillata hadn’t only been thinking of Padmé’s youth when she ran for her second term. Padmé knew she had been a good queen and that she would have been an even better one if she’d stayed in office, but that wasn’t how Naboo operated. She had been the queen Naboo had needed her to be. Now, it seemed, she was to be senator for the same reason, and it was up to her to compensate for any lack that she perceived, the way that Réillata had done and continued to do. No single system could be perfect; one method was not inherently better than the other. Politics was not a game of absolutes, except that those who served must never stop working as long as they held their office.
And Padmé was going to hold.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Padmé said after a long moment of golden silence. “And thank you for hurrying these meetings so that I could get back to my family as soon as possible.”
“It was my pleasure,” the queen said. “I have heard the news about your sister. I know you must be eager to get to them.”
Padmé was indeed eager. Her sister had sent a few holoimages, but that was hardly the same thing.
“I am, Your Highness,” she said.
“We have discussed all we need to, Senator,” Réillata said. “I have much to think about and so do you, but there is little point in your waiting around the palace for answers when a simple holomessage can reach you. Go to your family.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Padmé said.
She bowed one last time and then turned to lead Cordé and Dormé back into the palace. She commed Sabé to tell her that she was setting off, and then Tonra led them to the speeder Queen Réillata had provided for their use while they were on Naboo. Padmé was too excited to send a holo to her mother, so she typed a note instead and let her parents know that she’d be home in time for dinner.
The house that Padmé Naberrie had grown up in was far from the capital of Naboo. Like most Na
boo houses, it was made of stone and capped with domed roofs. Her father, Ruwee, had built it himself, before he became a lecturer at the university, and her mother had imbued the cold stone with that sense of place and time and belonging that true homes were founded on. It was large enough for the entire family, which had recently expanded, but small enough that Padmé didn’t feel like she was stepping into another grandiose residence every time she crossed the threshold.
It was home. She had never lived anywhere else that was as warm and as filled with love. She was grateful for the official residences that Naboo had provided for her, but they were never hers. This was the house she had dreamed of when she was lonely on Coruscant as a member of the junior legislative program, and this was the house she wanted to always return to, for as long as she could.
The courtyard was empty when Padmé, Tonra, and Dormé arrived. They each brought only a small case with them and didn’t wear anything that marked them as in service to the government. Tonra still carried his blaster openly, and Padmé could only assume that Dormé had hers tucked away somewhere as she did herself, but Naboo was at peace and she didn’t think there was a real need of it. Padmé intended to leave her weapon in her room for the duration of her stay. R2-D2 had come with them and remained on the ground while they took the stairs toward the front door. Jobal Naberrie waited there with a big smile on her face.
“Hello, Mom,” Padmé said, and whole months’ worth of frustrations melted away.
“Padmé,” Jobal said, and pulled her daughter in for a hug. “Oh, it’s wonderful to see you. Come in, come in.”
Padmé brushed her fingers against the piece of carved wood that was attached to the doorpost as she crossed the threshold and stepped directly into her father’s arms.
“Dad,” she said as he hugged her, and that was all the greeting either of them needed.
Jobal led the way into a sitting room that was lined with tall windows. The walls were painted blue, and bowls of red flowers decorated various architectural flourishes. There were chairs and a table under one of the windows, with a steaming teapot and a tray of little sandwiches. But Padmé had eyes only for one thing.
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