Queen's Peril

by E. K. Johnston

  Sabé waved them down by the entrance and introduced Padmé to Harli as a page that Rabé had stayed behind to escort.

  “The more the merrier,” Harli said. “Come on, let’s go see what seats my cousin got for us.”

  The seats were very close. And they weren’t so much seats as they were places in the VIP dance area. This was entirely more than Yané had bargained for, and she was quite happy to stand at the edge of the dance floor and watch the stage. Eirtaé was deeply interested in the lighting design and had no wish to dance either. Rabé claimed to have two left feet, which Padmé highly doubted was true but didn’t care enough about to argue.

  Harli pulled Sabé out to dance as soon as the opening light show was over. The performers stepped into antigrav columns as the music changed and began to dance to the ironically titled “Get Down” while the audience did its best to emulate them on the floor. Sabé and Harli moved well together, and Padmé almost forgot to watch the band. She didn’t like this feeling. She didn’t think it was jealousy—not entirely, anyway. Before Harli had come, Padmé had known where she and Sabé stood. Sabé was the first of her handmaidens, the one who was the best at doubling for her and who would take the risks if there was any danger. And right now, Padmé didn’t know how Sabé felt about any of those things anymore.

  She should just ask. If they were normal girls, she would just ask. It was like those first few weeks when none of them had complained and just got more and more annoyed with each other. But they weren’t normal. And while Padmé could ask as Sabé’s friend, she wasn’t sure if she should ask as Sabé’s queen. No, she would have to wait for Sabé to come to her. And she didn’t like that one bit.

  The song changed, the tempo altering slightly but not lessening very much as the solid sonic energy beams reinforced the beat. The lights all changed color and the crowd cheered as the stage was framed in streams of bright Naboo plasma. Sabé came over and grabbed Padmé by the hand, pulling her into the dancers. They moved together, and for a moment everything was the way it was supposed to be. Then Harli appeared at her elbow with a bunch of iridescent bulbs in her hands.

  “They’re glitter-lits,” she said, yelling to make herself heard over the crowd. “Each section of the audience has a different frequency activation. I got some for all of us!”

  Harli shook the lits to mix the chemicals together. She snapped one and handed it to Sabé. The main lights went out, and the Odeon thrummed with sound and color, but when Harli snapped the second one for Padmé, it broke and covered Padmé with glittering liquid that glowed in the dark.

  “I’m so sorry!” Harli yelled. “But now at least you don’t have to worry about holding on to anything!”

  Padmé tried to brush the liquid off of her face and only succeeded in making a mess of her hands. Yané appeared with a scarf and a bottle of water, but even that wasn’t enough to get rid of the stains entirely.

  “We’ll have to deal with it at home,” Yané said directly into her ear. “Do you want to leave?”

  “No,” Padmé said. “We’re all in this together, and I’m not going to ruin the night for everyone.”

  Yané looked concerned, so Padmé smiled brightly, and they both turned back to the show.

  Every time Padmé caught sight of Sabé for the rest of the night, she was laughing.

  Panaka managed to have dinner with his wife for the first time in days. They squeezed it in right before she had to go on shift, and he wasn’t able to do anything special on short notice, but at least they got to see each other. He told her as much as he could about the talks. The public transcript wouldn’t be available for a few more days, but even working nights Mariek was bound to hear something via the palace gossip chain, and Panaka would rather she hear it from him. They were just about to dig in to the denta bean buns the kitchen had baked for the first day of the summit when Panaka’s comm chimed with an alert he’d only ever heard once before.

  After the Queen had refused to allow guards into her personal rooms, Panaka had taken some security measures he hadn’t told her about. There was a weapons cache in the window seat, for example, which included a variety of things that would help the Queen escape or fight back if the occasion called for it. There were several sensors that could detect a perimeter breach, and several more for various types of weapons discharge. There was also a sensor that the Queen did know about, because one time Eirtaé had set it off when she was sewing and had pricked her finger with a needle. It was that alarm that was sounding now: the one that detected blood.

  Mariek was on her feet before her husband was. She was already dressed for work, except for her jacket. She didn’t stop for that as they headed for the door. Panaka didn’t even stop for his shoes. She grabbed his shoulder as soon as they were in the barracks courtyard.

  “Do not run,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he muttered through gritted teeth. It was not as if anyone who saw him dressed like this would fail to be alarmed, but they had guests, and running through the palace corridors would attract too much attention. Padmé had the girls with her. He could be a professional.

  They walked as quickly as they could.

  The hallway outside the Queen’s suite was quiet. The four guards on duty were standing at their posts. They jumped to attention when Panaka appeared, and when they saw his dishabille they went on alert. Panaka didn’t stop to talk to them. He opened the door to the suite.

  The rooms were empty and dark. Only a low light was on near the hearth. It was oddly calming, and Panaka did not wish to be calm. He had one priority, and that was Amidala.

  He crashed into her bedroom, and the girl in the bed sat up and screamed.

  Mariek followed Panaka into the Queen’s bedroom. They both froze in their tracks at the scream, and Mariek turned to bring up the lights. In the center of the bed was Saché. She was pale and gasping for breath. They had scared her.

  “Where is she?” Panaka roared.

  Saché flinched back. She blinked, trying to wake up as quickly as she could.

  Mariek put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Let me do this one, love,” she said. “Go and tell the guards in the hallway that there was no emergency.”

  Panaka obviously thought there was an emergency, given that the Queen was clearly not in her room, but he went anyway.

  Mariek sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “He’s upset because the alarm called him away from a fresh denta bean bun,” she said. Saché laughed at the idea that Captain Panaka ever chose dessert over duty. “It was the blood alarm, and I don’t think it was a sewing accident this time.”

  Saché looked puzzled for a moment, and then connected the line between her cramps and the alarm. She looked under the covers and her face turned bright red.

  “We keep the absorption pads in the bathroom,” she said quietly, hoping the bed would swallow her whole. “The instructions are on the package. I can figure it out.”

  “I’ll take care of the laundry,” Mariek said.

  Panaka was waiting for her in the hallway. He looked at the sheet she was carrying, considerably perplexed.

  “Where do they keep their clothing?” she asked, as though everything was fine.

  “What is going on? Where is the Queen?” he demanded.

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Mariek said. “You scared that poor girl half to death, and then mortification nearly took her the rest of the way. Just give us a few minutes.”

  Panaka watched while Mariek deposited the laundry and retrieved a clean set of bedding. She shuffled through the wardrobe registry until she found Saché’s things, and called up fresh sleeping clothes for her. Then she carried them back into the Queen’s bedroom. Panaka was on his last nerve.

  “I’m assuming she’s not injured, at least?” he asked.

  “She’s fine,” Mariek said. “And you’re an idiot for putting a blood-sensitive sensor in the bedroom of a teenage girl.”

  Panaka made several connection
s simultaneously, and had the decency to look guilty about it.

  “It’s never gone off before,” he muttered.

  “The older girls probably take suppressants,” Mariek said. “You know, like literally every guard who cycles. We’re busy people, Quarsh.”

  “I’ll apologize for scaring her,” he said. “As soon as she tells me where the Queen is.”

  Saché came out a few minutes later. She was wrapped in a housecoat and looked incredibly embarrassed. She stared at Panaka’s boots.

  “There’s a concert at the Odeon,” she said, unprompted. “That’s where they went.”

  “How did they get out?” Panaka demanded.

  “Sabé, Yané, and Eirtaé left with Harli earlier.” Saché paused. She didn’t want to give up a secret, but there wasn’t any way around it. “Rabé and Padmé left from the library.”

  “The library,” Panaka said, extremely calm, “is on the fifth level of the palace.”

  “Yané found the grappling cable weeks ago,” Saché said, gesturing to the window seat. “They used that.”

  Mariek made a noise suspiciously like a snort, and Panaka put his face in his hands.

  “This is what we’re going to do,” he said after taking a moment to think about it. “We’re not going to cause a scene. You’re going to call the Queen and tell her to come home. She’s going to come back the way she left so we don’t make a spectacle of it.”

  “Okay,” Saché said quietly.

  “How is she disguised?” Mariek asked as the thought occurred. “If they’re with Harli Jafan, she must have taken some precautions.”

  “They went as themselves,” Saché said. “No one knows who they are. Tonight they’re just girls.”

  “Call her, right now,” Panaka said.

  Saché fished the device out of her pocket and held it on her palm. At least the night couldn’t get much worse.

  Padmé had her comlink in her pocket. She’d set the vibration as high as possible. There was no way she’d hear it over the noise of the concert, but she might be able to feel it. She wasn’t really expecting anyone to contact her, but when the comlink shook against her leg, she knew there was only one person it could be.

  She activated the device, and a miniature Saché appeared on her palm. Padmé couldn’t hear over the noise of the concert, but Saché spoke clearly enough for Padmé to read her lips.

  “Come home,” she said. “We’re blown.”

  Well. This was going to be fun.

  Padmé got Rabé’s attention. Rabé understood the situation immediately and went to corral the others. Sabé was still on the dance floor with Harli, so they didn’t interrupt her.

  “Padmé and I will go back,” Rabé said when Padmé had caught them all up on the situation. “You two wait for Sabé and come back with her.”

  The trip back to the palace wasn’t nearly as exciting as the escape had been. Panaka was giving them a chance to preserve their dignity, and the Queen’s cover, and Rabé didn’t waste it. She retrieved the grappling cable and got them through the window with no issues. They put their handmaiden robes back on and then went out to face the music.

  The guards in the hallway were carefully neutral. None of them was exactly sure what was going on, and Padmé appreciated their discretion in not trying to find out now. Rabé opened the door to the suite, and they went in.

  “We’re in the sitting room,” Saché called.

  Padmé took a moment to pull herself together.

  “Do not let him run over you,” Rabé said under her breath.

  “I won’t let him run over us,” Padmé replied.

  When she went into the sitting room, she was dressed as a handmaiden, but she was Queen Amidala to her fingertips. Rabé followed a few steps behind, as though this were a normal walk in the palace, and instead of sitting down, she took a place behind Padmé.

  “I don’t even know where to start,” Panaka said. He had gone through the heat of his anger and settled into a cold rage. He was doing everything he could to keep her safe, and she had all but thrown it in his face.

  “We were given the opportunity to strengthen ties with the Jafani delegation,” Padmé said. “I considered it an appropriate risk.”

  “Don’t give me that, Your Highness.” Panaka clung to his manners to keep from yelling at her. “You could have done that in the palace. You could have invited any entertainment you wanted. And instead, you slipped your guards, climbed five stories down, somehow got over the garden wall, and went out with no security at all!”

  “Captain Panaka, you know that’s not true,” Padmé said. “You’ve trained my bodyguards yourself.”

  She used the word quite deliberately.

  “It’s not the same thing!” Panaka said.

  “Yes, it is,” Padmé said. For the first time, she unleashed the full brunt of her emotions on him: anger and frustration and a determination so solid, it would break rocks. “That was the whole point. They gave up their families and their names and their reputations, and they did it willingly, because they believe in your idea of what we could be. You trained us and gave us the ability to defend ourselves. We have worked to become a fluid, adaptable group, and we are powerful, Captain. Even if it’s not the kind of power you are accustomed to.”

  Panaka sat back in surprise. And there was dead quiet for several moments.

  “You are going to do things I don’t like, Captain,” Padmé said. “And I am going to do things you don’t like. But at the end of the day, one of us was elected Queen of Naboo, and I will do my job the way I see fit. I will listen to your advice, the same way I listen to everyone, but sometimes I will act against what you’ve said. And you will have to do your job and protect me anyway.”

  “How can I protect you if I don’t know where you are?” he asked.

  “You gave me five protectors,” Padmé said. “You’ll have to trust them, too.”

  Panaka looked over her shoulder at Rabé, the girl he thought he could control. Her flat stare told him everything he needed to know. This was not a fight he would win.

  “I understand, Your Highness,” Panaka said. “Next time you want to go on an adventure, tell me first. I’ll do everything I can to make it happen.”

  “I appreciate your dedication, Captain.” She let him hear the affection, now, and the respect, since he’d gotten the negative emotions earlier.

  “I’m late for my shift,” Mariek said, admirably diffusing the tension. “And Saché probably wants to go back to bed.”

  She pulled her husband to his feet, and they took their leave. Rabé sat down and put her feet up on the little table.

  “I ruined a bedsheet,” said Saché, as though it made perfect sense. “And you are covered in glitter.”

  It was probably the adrenaline wearing off, but Padmé laughed until she cried.

  The glitter did not come off. Yané tried everything she could think of to wash Padmé’s hands, but nothing worked. Eirtaé ran an analysis of the chemicals and tried to come up with a cleanser that wouldn’t dissolve Padmé’s skin off her bones, but so far she wasn’t having any luck.

  “Just try the makeup over it,” Rabé suggested.

  Yané went to work, but it was no use. The makeup they used as a concealer worked fine on Padmé’s face, but cracked every time she moved her fingers. Yané tried a lighter application, but that wasn’t enough to cover the glitter.

  “It’s daylight,” Saché protested. “How is it still glowing?”

  “It’s a secret recipe,” Eirtaé told her. “I had to slice into the manufacturer’s database to find the ingredients.”

  “You can’t go out like this,” Yané said. “Harli will recognize you immediately.”

  “Gloves?” Rabé suggested.

  “Not with a representative from Kreeling here,” Yané told her. “It’s not a rule, exactly, but it is a cultural guideline we should follow if we want to maintain our friendliness with Tobruna.”

  There was a whole moment
where none of them panicked.

  “It’ll have to be Sabé, then,” Eirtaé said. “She’s the only one who has ever doubled for you in public, and her voice is the best. There will be quite a bit of speaking today.”

  Sabé looked up from where she was untangling strands of beads on one of the Queen’s more ridiculous headpieces.

  “What?” she said.

  “Eirtaé’s right,” Padmé agreed. “You’ll have to be the Queen today, and I’ll watch the proceedings from the whisper gallery as a page. If I keep my hands in my sleeves, no one will see.”

  “This isn’t tricking the guards or taking your place in a parade,” Sabé said. “This is actual business. With serious ramifications.”

  “I am aware,” Padmé said. Her voice was a little cold. “I knew when we went to the concert that there might be consequences, and here we are. Today, you’re the Queen.”

  It served as a declaration, and the girls got to work.

  Padmé and Sabé switched seats. The day’s gown was quite formal. The rich burgundy was offset by light gray accents, and the headpiece was again the traditional fan shape. Rabé and Yané, who would accompany the Queen to the throne room, were in flame orange once more. It was quickly becoming their accepted color, and somehow the vibrancy of the fabric helped them to disappear. Saché helped Padmé and Eirtaé into the muted blue and mercifully wide-sleeved robes, and they all secured their hoods.

  “Thank goodness for fashion trends,” Padmé said.

  “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t surprised?” Yané asked.

  “Yes,” Padmé said, and meant it with her entire soul. “I would.”

  Sabé came over while Padmé was putting on the makeup that obscured her appearance.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s not your fault that the lit broke,” Padmé told her.

  “It’s my fault you were there,” Sabé said.

  “I make my own choices, Your Highness,” Padmé said. “You know that.”