Chapter 13: The self-portrait
Ayesha rushed through the atrium to answer the doorbell and came to a halt at the foot of the three steps leading up to the door. Thrawn was standing just outside the open transparisteel panel, looking very formal and elegant in his dress uniform. His glowing eyes swept over her. "You are beautiful," he said.
"You like it? I designed it myself, you know." She spun around gracefully, the luminous layers of her skirt's zoosha fabric flaring around her ankles to reveal high-heeled dance slippers. The off-the-shoulder, tight-fitting blouse enhanced the line of her neck under her new pixie haircut, and her arms were covered in matching opera gloves, contrasting with her bare midriff. There was a soft blush on her cheeks, she was positively glowing.
"Very much. Although I fear I will spend my evening keeping the vultures at bay."
She grimaced. "You're such a killjoy. Just ask Matt to give you a few tips, he's good at it." She ushered him in. "We have time for a drink."
The apartment was eerie. The furniture and decoration had been removed and replaced with statues and flats wrapped in white dust sheets. She led him to the high counter separating the kitchen from the dining area and poured two glasses of cortyg brandy. "Sorry about the mess," she said. "I started setting up for the exhibition, so it's all a bit chaotic."
The red eyes wandered around the ghostly shapes. "You made all this in the past seven months?"
"This and more. Some will be displayed in the hallway and the little lounge in the back."
"I cannot wait to see it," Thrawn said after taking in the room one more time. "Is there a theme to these works?"
She rolled her eyes. "Desire. The Emperor chose it. That was before he gave up on turning me into a Palace whore." Thrawn's eyes flashed but he remained silent. "I'm a bit concerned about the fact that these pieces are going to the Galactic Museum, you know. I'm not sure I want posterity to see me as the artist who poured all the contempt in her heart into her sculptures. But I just couldn't help myself when I thought of the vulture-in-chief."
He chuckled. "I have no doubt that there is much more to your sculptures than that."
She downed the last of her brandy. "I think we should get going. Let me grab my stole and earrings and I'm all set."
She went to walk away but he caught her wrist, placing a flat box in her palm. She looked at him curiously and opened it. Inside were a necklace and matching earrings of shimmering snow crystal threads encased in a glassy material that looked like molten ice. She stared at the jewels in wonder. "This is beautiful," she finally whispered. "I've never seen anything like it."
"A small gift for you from Csilla. I ordered it before my latest tour of duty. I was hoping to have it for the dedication of the Northern Lights room, but unfortunately it did not arrive in time. Or rather fortunately, I should say, since this is the perfect complement to your dress tonight."
He watched her put on the earrings and turn around for him to tie the necklace. She heard him suck in a breath as he fiddled with the clasp. His finger traced the curve of her shoulder and came to rest on a round scar on her shoulder blade. "I am so blind," he muttered.
She spun to face him again. "The Fijisi wood piece you gave me," he said uncertainly, "the bust of the screaming woman... is it a self-portrait?"
She held his phosphorescent gaze steadily. "Yes. And I didn't just give it to you, I made it for you."
They stared at each other a moment longer and suddenly they were kissing passionately, drinking life from each other as if their mouths were parched from a long trek in the desert. He wrapped his arms around her in a bone-crushing embrace while she cupped his head in her hands to pull him closer. The need for oxygen turned one kiss into several, and when they finally parted, the glow in his eyes was so intense that it made her turn crimson.
"We should go," she said with a timid smile. "The Emperor will have my head if I arrive late at the Ball."
She fetched her stole and walked with him to the landing pad. The sun was sinking under the Coruscant cityscape with glorious colours. He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her again, demandingly, possessively, before he helped her into the speeder.