The queen's chamber was empty. It wasn't until Boba saw the draperies stir in the wind that he saw the open window.
There was a flat, narrow ledge outside the window with no railing. Snowflakes swirled around in the cold air, but Queen Trios sat on the edge in nothing but a silk robe, her long hair loose. She glanced back at him. "You don't like to wait, do you?"
"No." He stepped over the low sill of the window and looked over the edge. A long drop. Long enough to kill someone instantly.
A strand of hair blew across her face and she raised her hand to brush it away. It was a cybernetic replacement. A good one. "My guards?"
"Alive. Unconscious. Maybe a little bruised."
Her smile was as cold and as brittle as the air around them. "Lord Vader said you were efficient."
"I'm here to do a job."
"As am I." She turned her head to look up at him. "We share the same master, you and I. But I must say, I would rather have your job."
"It must be very hard," Boba returned coolly. "Living in a castle and ruling over a prosperous planet."
Trios laughed suddenly and sharply. "Yes. I'm queen of my own tomb." The wind kicked up, making the edges of her robe flutter. She closed her eyes and a shudder passed through her, but it wasn't a gesture of discomfort. In fact, Boba had the distinct impression that she was enjoying the biting cold on her skin.
"What's under that armor?" She asked, her eyes still shut. "A human? A man?"
"A man who doesn't like having his time wasted."
"Ah." Her eyes opened. "I suppose we should get on with it, shouldn't we? Our master will expect results. Could you give me a hand?"
Cautiously he planted his feet and offered his hand. The wind pulled at her robe as she stood, erasing any doubt that she wore nothing beneath it. They were standing very close on that perilous ledge, close enough that he could see the bright spark of interest in her eyes.
Vader should be careful with this one.