"Princess of Theed"
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: GL owns the SW characters.
I'm not making any money from this. So there.
Padmé, Princess
of Theed, looked down at her appointment book and sighed in resignation.
Thus far, none of the candidates she had interviewed for the recent vacancy
on her staff seemed suited for the job. Now there was one last person to
be interviewed, and this one seemed the least suited of them all. Darn
Lord Malatine anyway, Padmé thought. Why on Naboo did he
allow himself to be drawn into King Veruna's web of corruption? Now he
has brought disgrace on himself and his family, and created a scandal for
me. Not to mention the bother of finding another Chief of Staff. She
sighed again, thinking that the person she was to interview next was likely
to cause just as much scandal, but of a different nature. Mentally, Padmé
reviewed what she knew about Lady Sabé. While the Lady's family,
background, and education were all perfectly respectable, unfortunately
her behavior very often was not.
Lady Sabé was
the terror of the Naboo aristocracy; she was the first of her generation
of young Ladies to smoke a cigarette, the first to wreck the family hovercar,
the first to get drunk, the first to lose her virginity (to one of the
Palace footmen, at a state dinner no less). She could and often did flawlessly
mimic King Veruna's odd speech impediment, much to her parents' embarrassment.
Though it was unbecoming for a Lady, Sabé was an expert markswoman,
and she held black belts in several forms of martial arts and hand-to-hand
combat, much to the dismay of several former suitors who had learned the
hard way that "no" really did mean "no". One of the young men in
question had had several months in traction to contemplate the error of
his ways.
Padmé shook
her head, wondering how she could gracefully cut short the interview with
this notorious young Lady so she could get some work done at last. The
intercom on her desk beeped.
"Lady Sabé is
waiting, Your Highness," her secretary's tinny voice announced.
"I suppose you'd better
send her in," Padmé replied, trying to sound enthusiastic. She had
spent all afternoon in interviews; the last thing she wanted to do now
was waste her time interviewing a young woman that she knew was patently
unsuitable for the position. The door opened and the infamous Lady Sabé
entered. She does not look like a holy terror, Padmé thought
as Sabé curtsied to her.
"Princess," Sabé
greeted Padmé. "It is an honor to meet you finally."
"Lady," Padmé
answered, inclining her head slightly. "Do sit down," she added, indicating
a chair across from her desk. Sabé sat and regarded the Princess
for a long moment.
"Who did your hair?"
she asked abruptly.
"I did," Padmé
replied, surprised.
"Well, it's all wrong,"
Sabé said dismissively. The shocked Princess raised a hand to her
head to touch the lacquered curls.
"What's wrong with
it?" Padmé asked defensively. Sabé shrugged.
"Too much hairspray,
too much gel... just too much everything, really. You look like
a peasant girl all dressed up to play Princess."
"I am a peasant
girl," Padmé reminded her visitor, her voice a bit sharper than
usual.
"Even so," Sabé
said, shrugging elaborately. "You do not need to look like one." She gestured
at Padmé's hands, which were clasped before her on her desk. "That
white nail polish is simply too common for words, my dear." Padmé
found that she was quite taken aback. Ever since her recent investiture
as Princess of Theed, all of the aristocrats she had encountered had treated
her as their better. This young Lady did not even treat her as an equal,
but instead openly looked down her nose at the peasant girl in a Princess's
gown. "Still," Sabé continued in a musing tone. "The potential is
there." Padmé's eyebrows went up.
"How good of you to
say so," she replied frostily. Sabé leaned forward in her chair,
appraising the young Princess with a critical eye.
"With a bit of training,
we might be able to make a fitting Princess of you, my dear," the Lady
mused as though she had not even heard Padmé speak. "The first thing
we must tackle is that accent of yours."
"What accent?" Padmé
asked a bit defensively.
"I am afraid you sound
like a bumpkin, Your Highness," Sabé said bluntly.
"At least I don't sound
like I've got someone's hands around my neck when I'm talking!" Padmé
flared, feeling the color rise to her cheeks. Sabé shrugged again.
"Nevertheless, the
way I speak identifies me as a Lady, as someone with a background of taste
and refinement, while the way you speak identifies you as… well, as a bumpkin."
This was simply too much for Padmé.
"I may be a bumpkin,
but at least I have never allowed myself to be tumbled in a guestroom by
a Palace footman like a common serving wench!" For a long moment, Sabé
stared at Padmé, expressionless.
"Well," she finally
said, her lips twitching in amusement, "You certainly have spirit. Training
you to be a Lady could be fun." She stood. "I accept the position."
"I have not offered
it!" Padmé said, her eyes widening in astonishment at the Lady's
audacity. Sabé only smiled.
"If you are as intelligent
as they say, you will."
"Hold your head up,"
Sabé's voice hissed in Padmé's ear as they walked down the
corridor towards the Palace's formal reception hall. Padmé nodded,
bringing her chin up despite the heavy weight of her jeweled tiara with
its trailing veils. They were nothing compared to the weight of the books
Sabé had placed on her head during their "Lady training sessions"
throughout the previous week. "And don't slouch," Sabé continued.
"Aside from making you look common, it ruins the lines of your gown. Remember,
you are a Princess, not a village girl!" Padmé squared her shoulders
as two footmen moved to open the double doors directly ahead.
"Padme, Princess of
Theed!" one of the footmen called out in a ringing voice. She felt the
color rise to her cheeks as all eyes turned to watch her entrance. King
Veruna turned, smiling in greeting. Everything about King Veruna was larger
than life; he was enormously fat, his elaborate robes of state billowed
out around him and trailed on the floor behind him, and when he spoke,
it seemed his voice made the rafters shake.
"So," he boomed cheerfully.
"Our young Princess had joined us at last!" Sabé gave Padmé
a sharp nudge, and the Princess moved forward to greet her sovereign.
"Your Majesty," she
murmured, dropping him a curtsey that was not as deep as she might have
given someone else - someone she respected. As she'd known he would, Veruna
caught the slight, his eyes momentarily locking with Padmé's. When
the Princess did not lower her gaze, the King's eyes narrowed with displeasure.
So,
Padmé thought, Now he knows that I do not like him. Good.
She had to admit that Sabé's lessons were proving very useful. Along
with the improvement in her posture and comportment, she had begun to master
the intricacies of life at Court. Subtleties that had previously slipped
right past her now stood out crystal clear, and she'd picked up a few tricks
of her own, such as the slightly disrespectful curtsey she'd offered the
King. As Sabé bobbed a curtsey of her own to Veruna, an older man
approached the Princess.
"Your Highness," he
said, nodding his head in an abbreviated bow.
"Governor Bibble,"
Padmé replied, clasping his hand and smiling warmly. She genuinely
liked Sio Bibble, who, unlike the King, was untainted by corruption. "It
is always a pleasure to see you."
"And you, Princess,"
the Governor replied. "Come, there is someone you simply must meet." He
led her away from King Veruna, speaking in a quiet voice. "Have you heard
about the King's latest scheme?"
"The Farm Tax, you
mean?" Padmé asked. Bibble nodded. She sighed. "I like it not."
"Given your background,
I did not think you would," Bibble replied. Padmé shook her head.
"My background has
nothing to do with it," she replied. "I can't imagine anyone with morals
would think highly of imposing a land tax on farmers who are struggling
to make ends meet as it is."
"Perhaps our noble
King has forgotten where the food he obviously enjoys so very much comes
from," a new voice said acidly. Padmé turned to see who was intruding
on their private conversation. Her eyes widened slightly as she recognized
the man.
"Princess, please allow
me to present Senator Palpatine," Bibble said. "It is he whom I brought
you to meet."
"I regret that I was
unable to attend your investiture, Your Highness," Palpatine said, bowing.
"It is an honor to meet you at last."
"The honor is mine,
Senator," she replied, meaning it. "Long have you served the people of
Naboo. You and Governor Bibble have been my role models since I first decided
to enter the political arena."
"And King Veruna?"
Palpatine asked ironically. Padmé snorted, realizing as she
did that Sabé would certainly scold her for such unladylike behavior.
"It is safe to say
that the Princess shares many of our views regarding the present monarch,"
Bibble said smoothly.
"As do most of the
common folk," Padmé said. "I wonder how it is that they have not
called for new leadership."
"They will," Palpatine
said distantly. "And when they do…" His voice trailed off as he stared
blankly at a point somewhere beyond Padmé and the Governor. "Heavy
your tiara may be, Princess, but its weight is nothing in comparison to
the crown you will wear." Padmé was suddenly reminded of a day last
fall, when a carnival had come to her small farming village. She and her
brothers had skipped out on their chores to walk the midway, ride the rides,
and eat popcorn and cotton candy that would only make them sick later.
There had been a booth with a spirit card reader. Though her brothers had
scoffed, Padmé had paid to have her fortune read. The woman in the
darkened booth had had the same blank stare the Senator currently wore,
as though she had been looking at something only she could see. In the
same distant voice the Senator had used, she had proclaimed that Padmé
would be the next Princess of Theed, and would later free her people from
some sort of persecution. The fortune teller had scarcely glanced at the
spirit cards she had carefully laid out one by one on the table between
them; Padmé had gotten the distinct impression that the spirit cards
were merely a prop. She suddenly became aware that Senator Palpatine was
talking to her.
"You must forgive me,
Princess," Palpatine said, sounding rather shaken. "Sometimes my mind wanders
and I say the silliest things." She smiled at him.
"It's all right, Senator.
I am afraid that my mind often wanders too - usually during boring meetings!"
As intended, this got a laugh from the two men, though Palpatine's laughter
sounded forced.
"Governor Bibble,"
Sabé said, walking up behind them. "I must apologize for not greeting
you earlier."
"That's quite all right,
my dear girl," Bibble said fondly. "I saw that our noble liege was bending
your ear." Sabé made a face.
"You would not believe
what he imagined I would do with him later," she said. "Never have
I been so disgusted!"
"He is a pig." Padmé
said with open distaste, momentarily forgetting all of Sabé's training
in the art of diplomacy.
"He certainly resembles
one," Palpatine murmured.
"Forgive me, I have
been remiss." Bibble said. "You have not met the Senator, have you Sabé?"
"No," Sabé replied.
"I have not." Padmé watched as the Governor made the introduction
and Palpatine raised Sabé's hand to his lips and kissed it; a Lord
greeting a Lady. His eyes had that distant look again, but he quickly blinked
to dispel it. He looked troubled as he released Sabé's hand.
"Do you know," Bibble
was saying, "that Captain Panaka has told the King that should he go forward
with this Farm Tax, he cannot guarantee Veruna's safety?"
"Really?" Padmé
asked, trying to sound as though she had been fully paying attention to
the Governor's gossip.
"Does the captain fear
there will be an armed revolt?" Sabé asked. Bibble merely shrugged.
"Nonsense!" Sabé protested. "We are a peaceful people." Footmen
began circulating through the crowd, ringing tiny silver bells. It was
their cue to head to the banquet hall for dinner.
"Even a peaceful people
can be pushed too far," Bibble noted. Padmé shook her head as she
followed the others from the reception hall.
"The farmers would
never riot," she said quietly. "They simply don't have it in them." Bibble
suddenly stopped walking and turned. The women followed his gaze and saw
that they had left Palpatine behind. The Senator stood where they had left
him, staring into space.
"It appears that the
Senator is having a bad night," Bibble told the women quietly.
"What's wrong with
him?" Padmé asked, frowning. Bibble shrugged.
"He usually behaves
quite normally, but occasionally he becomes like this. He seems to have
spells of some kind." Bibble raised his voice. "Senator Palpatine, won't
you join us?" He called out.
"Poor man," Sabé
murmured as Palpatine approached, looking like he'd just come out of a
trance.
"I'm sorry," Palpatine
apologized. "I've got a lot on my mind at the moment."
"Well, put those troubling
thoughts out of your head, Senator," Sabé told him, smiling.
"Yes," Padmé
agreed lightly. "It is time for dinner. We will have to hurry if we are
to arrive before our noble King devours everything."
"His appetites have
no limit," Sabé agreed, thinking of the King's lecherous advances
and shuddering in revulsion.
"Such talk is treason!"
Bibble joked.
"Something tells me
that the truly treasonous talk has not yet begun," Palpatine murmured.
"True," Padmé
said, nodding. "I believe the Farm Tax will be the last straw for the poor
village farmers. Soon our King may find himself at the mercy of the voters
once again."
"And should that happen,"
Bibble said, "I'm sure we can think of a suitable candidate to replace
him!" He gave Padmé a wink.
"Surely you can't mean
me, Governor!" she exclaimed.
"Who better?" Palpatine
asked.
"Why, I am only just
becoming accustomed to being Princess of Theed!"
"Don't worry, Your
Highness," Sabé said. "When the time comes, you will be ready."
"You did very well tonight,
Princess," Sabé told her proudly as their hovercar sped away from
the Palace. "We will make a Lady of you yet."
"Or a Queen," Padmé
murmured.
"Would you really run?"
Sabé asked, glancing over at the Princess.
"Hey, keep your eyes
on the road!" Padmé exclaimed, only half-joking as she suddenly
recalled Sabé's father's wrecked hovercar. They were silent for
a moment. "Yes, I would run," she said quietly. "And I would win."
FINIS.
