First Impressions
Padmé Naberrie looked at herself in the mirror. She was dressed in a long, red robe surronded by red laterns, her elaborate coffiure and her makeup was completed by Eirtaé and Rabé, two of her handmaidens.
This isn't me, this isn't Padmé Naberrie, Padmé thought as she looked in the mirror. It wasn't herself, not the girl who had grown up with her sisters, Sola and Aira, not the girl who had ran in and out of the gardens of the Naberrie's estate in Varykino.
It was Amidala. A teenage Queen who had taken the place of Padmé, a carefree, headstrong girl in sepia fishtail braids.
"Mi'lady," Padmé rose and saw it was one of her handmaidens, Fé, who was the one to call her for presence in the royal court.
And Padmé, Just Padmé, will be there.
A/N: My (Probarly) last story before school starts on Monday. This is for Anakin-Jason-Skywalker-Kenobi.