ELECTIONEERING
Eirtaé hated competition. It wasn't that she lacked the confidence to place herself in opposition to another or feared that perhaps someone else would overshadow her, it was simply that she hated being put in a position where there was not the assumption that she was already the most qualified, the most beautiful and the most suitable for whatever prize was currently being contested.
It was this that caused her to dislike Padmé Naberrie and her insistence on being so popular with people who were too stupid to know better.
By contrast, the girl she had come to think of as her rival was a dullard. Where Eirtaé's hair was golden blonde; Padmé's was an unremarkable brown, where Eirtaé's eyes were sparkling blue; Padmé's were a bland hazel. She was everything that Eirtaé wasn't, and yet twice now she had beaten her obvious better and been awarded positions of authority.
The memories made Eirtaé knot her hands together in anger, her eyes full of rage and her teeth clamped hard together.
The first occasion had been whilst they were still at school.
Whilst others of her current peer group had attended the lesser academies in Theed, both Eirtaé and Padmé, in keeping with their standing as the daughters of noble families, had attended the River Valley Academy for Girls of Standing and Virtue, an ancient and venerable school located far from the hoi-polloi of Theed and the other cities.
She had been loved and adored by both her fellow students and her instructors, picking lovers freely from the close-knit group that surrounded her, constantly adorning her with praise and gifts. She was the most popular, and certainly the most wealthy girl in the whole school...and yet somehow she had lost the position of Homecoming Queen to her lesser beloved classmate.
With no warning and without provocation, Padmé Naberrie had challenged her by entering the competition...and somehow, without doing anything more than smiling at a few people and helping out at some dreadful charity events, she had won.
Eirtaé had been fuming when she heard the news. She had flown into a temper, accusing everyone she knew of betrayal and demanding the votes be recounted. The school had capitulated to her rage, recounting every single ballot slip and yet still Padmé had emerged as the victor
In her heart, she suspected sabotage. Someone had entered her duller classmate without the girl's knowledge and then gone about fixing the votes to make sure she won. It was the only possible explanation.
Of course, being of such a magnanimous nature, Eirtaé had refrained from saying as such to the other girl's face, a fact she regretted when next they found themselves as rivals.
The elections to decide who would sit next upon the throne of Naboo were the following year and, as expected by everyone in her social circle, Eirtaé had put herself forward as the ideal candidate for the position.
She was enraged to discover that, amongst the other handful of candidates, none of whom were memorable, was again Padmé Naberrie. Not content with humiliating her in the context of their final year at school, the little dullard was now attempting to humiliate her on a global scale!
Whatever grudge Padmé bore, Eirtaé had thought, it must have been a significant one for her to constantly try to compete. Perhaps the other girl was bitter that Eirtaé's family were vastly more connected in the Republic Senate, perhaps the rumour about her father's lavish spending was true and the House of Naberrie was facing financial bankruptcy or perhaps she was simply envious of Eirtaé herself
Eirtaé had encountered many people who were envious of her; scorned lovers, uneducated proles and ill-qualified teachers amongst them. Perhaps Padmé was one of those people who, feeling so hurt that Eirtaé had never so much as looked her way before, now sought to hurt her publicly as a form of revenge
Whatever the reason, if it was revenge Padmé was after then she certainly had achieved it.
Again, against all odds, she had won. For the second time in two years, Padmé Naberrie had been chosen over her and crowned Queen.
Standing now in her spacious rooms within her family's ancestral home, Eirtaé looked at the plain orange and red robes hanging upon the door of her wardrobe and the parchment with the delicate script upon her dresser
After all this, after having humiliated her by achieving twice what Eirtaé could not, Padmé Naberrie was still exacting her revenge.
The letter was a formal invitation to attend an interview for a position as one of the Queen's Handmaidens, written in Padmé's own handwriting and signed with a note of personal affection. She was asking Eirtaé of all people - Eirtaé, the pride and heir of one of the most wealthy and affluent families on all of Naboo - to debase herself by becoming a servant.
If Eirtaé had known rage before, it had been but a shadow of what she felt upon first reading the letter
She tore the missive from her dresser and began to read it once more. As she did, she felt a change come over her and somehow, like invisible ink upon a blank page, another message seemed to shine through from beneath the meaning she had first assumed.
The letter called forth tears, not from rage this time but from the breaking of her heart as she realised, with terrible regret how blind she had been
The message of the letter was not one of humiliation and vengeance, but of love and admiration
"My dearest Eirtaé..." she read aloud in a trembling voice. "Though we have never been together in quite the way my heart has yearned for during these past years and whilst now with my appointment as Queen, those chances seem to be slimmer than ever before I find it difficult to imagine a life in which you play no part.
"Although the station is obviously below someone of your noble standing, I would like to invite you to come to Theed, dear Eirtaé, and attend the trial which my head of security, Captain Panaka has designed in order to chose from the number of entrants, Handmaidens to act as expressions of my will amongst the people.
"I know I ask too much of you, my sweet friend, and my heart breaks with shame to ask you...but I am alone here in the Palace, not for the want or kindness of those who presently attend me, but because my life is empty without your beauty, your passion to add colour to it.
"Please tell me that you will at least consider the matter, dear heart and please, should you find the task too lowly; send me word of your life at present so that I may have some fond imaginings to comfort me during the approaching winter here in the Palace.
"With this matter, as with all things, I am your servant, dear Eirtaé. Signed, Queen Amidala Padmé Naberrie."
Tears ran freely now upon Eirtaé's cheeks and she tightened her hands around the parchment, closing her eyes so as to picture the other girl as she had appeared during their last encounter.
"Damn you, Padmé Naberrie," she whispered softly to herself with a sad smile. "You win."