Confronting Fear

Cyrilla

One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

Viva La Vida - Coldplay

"Thank you," Rey handed several credit chips to the vendor as she took her purchase, a purple satin headband to wear to the dinner that night, from the young woman manning the stand. Rose had selected a similar one in black and red to wear to the ball Cyrilla would be hosting to celebrate the peace talks.

"C'mon, we need to get back to the palace," Rose held tight to the several small bags containing her purchases as she urged Rey to hurry as they walked the busy streets. "We're cutting it close as it is."

Rey quickened her gait to keep up with her friend. The morning had been quite pleasant as the group had met early in the day to go into Theed proper to see the sights. Poe and Finn had cut out early when the girls decided to spend some of the credits Ben had given Rey before coming to Naboo. It was more money than either of them had ever seen though they kept the purchases simple and inexpensive. Rey had however, insisted on treating Rose to a pair of onyx drop earrings for the party with the argument she should get something for putting up with Ben.

It didn't take them long to reached the square archway that served as the entrance to the palace, the beautiful architecture taking her breath away. A quick facial scan and they were allowed in with no argument.

Queen Cyrilla of Naboo sat perfectly still as Damla, her handmaiden applied the thick ceremonial face-paint to her face, completely hiding her golden complexion. She hated the feeling of it on her skin, but it was a tradition that must be observed. With one last careful stroke Damla outlined her red lips in black before settling the elaborate ceremonial headdress once worn by her icon Queen Amidala over her brow, a single ruby settling in between her amber eyes.

She sighed as she looked in the mirror, her nineteen-years old face looking much older due to the makeup. Which she supposed was part of the point.

"Your Highness, Prince Isolder and Prince Kalen are awaiting your presence in your office," another handmaiden informed her.

"Thank you, Logga," she said as she gathered her elaborate black, feathered skirts.

Father and son stood, bowing low as she entered; sitting only after she was settled into her throne-like chair behind a small squared desk. She tried to hide her distate for the two men as Kalen kissed her hand, a tradition common in the Hapes cluster but alien to Naboo. Several more pleasantries were exchanged as the two men tried to play to her non-existent vanity before finally settling down to business. After a week of negotiating, they should know better.

"Prince Isolder, I am surprised you wanted to stay for these negotiations as you were previously in a hurry to return home," Cyrilla said coolly, not daring to voice her suspicions as to why.

"Upon conferring with the Queen Mother, we decided it was best we stay after all. Given the times and the people attending, it would be a sin to miss this opportunity to benefit the galaxy."

Cyrilla wondered when the Hapans had suddenly started caring about the galaxy at large when they spent all their time sequestered within the Transitory Mists. Something was going on in the Hapes Consortium, she determined. And whatever it was, they needed help.

Jedi help.

"And what are you hoping to achieve from this? You're not part of the war being waged between the Republic and the Resistance." she asked.

A grimace twisted Isolder's handsome features. "Not yet, " he replied. "It's only a matter of time until the First Order builds another hyperspace weapon and at that point no one is safe. We want to treat with them before that becomes an issue. On top of that there is this threat from the old emperor to deal with, that, if what both the Republic and the First Order claim is true could spell ruin for us all."