Chapter 7
Four days later, the throne room of the Sundari Summer Palace was filled to the brim with decorum. Mandalore had many clans, but when referring to "the clans" in noble presence, one meant the High Clans that had governed the Mandalore System for over a millenia. Satine could see the set up in her mind. The throne room was long, and she would be seated at the head. In front of her, there would be eight thrones in two columns. One chair for each clan. Currently, the duchess of Mandalore was waiting behind a set of curtains, watching as the front doors were opened. A barrage of guards led eight Mandalorian leaders dressed in their finest into the room.
Fesma and Khaami came up beside her and Satine snuck down in front of the back door.
"Her Grace, the Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, Second of her Name and Lady Krewella, accompanied by the Lady Fesma and the Lady Khaami."
Satine could hear her footsteps as she entered the throne room and sat on her grand chair, all eyes were on her, not all of them warm. One man stepped forward.
"His Excellency, the Count Kyrel Awuad, head of Clan Awuad," the announcer told the room.
"Your Grace." bowed Count Awuad.
"Thank you for coming, Your Excellency," Satine put on her best smile and gestured, "please take a seat."
Next, a woman stepped forward.
"Her Excellency, the Countess Shewa Bralor, head of Clan Bralor."
"Your Grace." she curtsied.
"It is an honor to have you, Countess Bralor," Satine straightened, "I hope I can be of much help to you and your kind."
After a polite nod, she sat down.
"Her Excellency, the Countess Yara Eldar, head of Clan Eldar."
Countess Yara stepped forward and showed her respect to the Duchess.
"I am grateful to have an audience with Your Grace." she stated.
"Your kindness is most revered, Your Excellency." Satine replied.
A man stepped forward.
"His Excellency, the Count Raren Mudhorn, head of Clan Mudhorn."
"Clan Mudhorn thanks you, Your Grace, for your generosity towards our needs." bowed the count.
"I am most happy to oblige, Your Excellency." Satine responded politely.
"His Excellency, the Count Obren Rook, head of Clan Rook."
Obren Rook gave an impressive bow.
"Your Grace is most magnificent in your eloquence and indulgence."
Satine almost giggled at the compliment.
"Well, I hope I can live up to your standards, Your Excellency."
A woman stepped forward and curtsied.
"Her Excellency, the Countess Aara Saxon, head of Clan Saxon."
"It is a blessing to be in Your Grace's presence." said she.
"I hope to do good by your people, Countess." Satine replied.
The next man was someone the Duchess recognized.
"His Excellency, the Count Tarrei Vizsla, head of Clan Vizsla."
The Count stood with a tight-lipped smile, "It is quite the opportunity to have the chance to discuss policy with Mandalore's She-Wolf."
"I only hope I can hold up to the name, Your Excellency." the Duchess responded.
The final clan leader was the youngest of the bunch, slightly older than Satine herself.
"Her Excellency, the Countess Ursa Wren, head of Clan Wren."
Ursa curtsied, "The palace is resplendent, Your Grace, as always."
"Thank you, Your Excellency," Satine gestured to the remaining seat, "you are very obliging."
Once Countess Wren took her seat, the Duchess spoke.
"I have invited you here today to discuss the implementation of the government programs that are improving our society," Satine clasped her hands, trying not to fiddle, "please tell me whether or not they have been effective, and if there is anything else this government can do to help its people."
Some of the clan leaders looked at each other and raised their eyebrows, but Ursa Wren stood, unafraid.
"There is the beginning of a food shortage in my province," she stated, "many are robbing grain or threatening for fruit."
Satine snapped and Fesma handed her a notebook.
"Is anyone else having this problem?" the Duchess questioned.
The Countess Saxon and Count Awuad stated they were.
"Perhaps an incentive, such as federal funding, would be appreciated by these farmers." Satine suggested.
"And what of the aggression?" asked Countess Saxon.
"Outlandish fines or jail time could be prescribed as punishment for robbery," the Duchess suggested, "and we could deploy a quarter of the national guard to be of assistance in your provinces."
"That would be very helpful, Your Grace," Count Awaud nodded, "is there any way we could implement a ration system with what we currently have?"
"A favorable solution indeed I think," Satine scribbled down notes to herself, "we must have enough food to free our people."
Some of the nobility shared glances, only Count Vizsla seemed unimpressed.
"My province is struggling with gangs, Your Grace," Count Rook confessed, "we have tried incentives to de escalate violence, but matters have not subsided."
"We should put their skills to use," the Duchess decided, "perhaps offering jobs in the national guard would be beneficial?"
"We've tried to interest them in civil society, Your Grace," Count Mudhorn interjected, "at least we've done so in my province, but many of these former warriors long for blood."
The Duchess grew pensive.
"There has been some talk among my advisors," she said suddenly, "that we should consider sending the most vile of our former warriors to Concordia, in exile."
Count Vizsla's face grew dark, and the Duchess addressed the second part of her comment to him.
"I suggest we take this route with only the most repulsive, that after offering them jobs in the national guard or public sport, should they decline, then they shall be sent to our most distant moon."
The clan leaders agreed that this would be the kindest route to take, and Satine scribbled down her notes.
"What about our troubles with trash disposal and sewage," asked the Countess Bralor, "I know it's hardly a polite topic, but it must be discussed."
"I agree," Countess Eldar stated, "we have been having some trouble with this in my province as well."
"The transportation aspect?" Satine questioned to clarify.
"Yes, Your Grace," Countess Bralor answered, "the plants were not destroyed during the war, but they were abandoned."
The Duchess nodded, "Would a government funded program be of assistance in this sense?"
"What exactly would this program entail?" Countess Eldar asked.
"Construction training and researchers," Satine answered, "to help reinstate the process with those able to help improve the system."
The Countesses actually smiled, and after a brief look, Countess Bralor answered.
"Yes, Your Grace, that would be most kind."
For the first time, Count Vizsla spoke, "Are you sure these goals are reasonable, Your Grace?"
"Yes," Satine said with resolve, "just as certainly as the restoration of our System is reasonable."
Silence flooded the hall.
"Your Grace," Countess Wren spoke up suddenly, "there has been a mutant of an old disease found in my province, how shall we begin to combat this?"
At this, Satine actually smiled, "Naboo and Cerea have been kind enough to loan us credits for the construction on schools and hospitals. I will tell the hospital committee to begin work in your province, and begin recruiting doctors and scientists for caution."
Countess Wren's shoulders eased, "Thank you, Your Grace."
Satine scribbled down the remainder of her notes and addressed the congregation one more time.
"If that is all, do know that my chefs have prepared an exquisite luncheon, but I know there is much to attend to, and you are under no obligation to stay if business bides you leave."
Count Vizsla said he was honored, but he had a meeting with the governor of Concordia later this afternoon. Count Rook and Count Mudhorn also politely declined, citing former engagements as well, but the Countess Saxon said she would be glad to know her Duchess better. Countess Eldar decided to stay as well, as did Countess Bralor. Count Awaud apologized, saying that he had a former engagement with the Prime Minister. Countess Wren decided to stay.
Lunch was onion soup, an ancient Mandalorian delicacy, and the Countesses seemed pleased. Satine sat at the head of the table, with Countess Bralor and Saxon on either side of her. Fesma and Khaami were in between them and the other Countesses. It was a quiet lunch, with topics never straying from polite manners and gentle society. Everyone was friendly enough, but Satinie felt she'd accomplished almost nothing by adding the lunch. That was until, Countess Bralor commented on her respect for the Duchess, saying that she conducted herself with an air of grace native to her clan.
"You are most kind, Your Excellency," Satine actually blushed, "I truly hope I can emulate the traits of a great Duchess."
"You certainly are far ahead for one so young." commented Countess Eldar.
"You flatter me, Countess," Satine smiled, "I owe much of my success to the people around me."
The chatter resumed, but the Duchess felt a warm glow in her chest for the rest of the meal. The Countesses Saxon and Eldar left together, claiming retail therapy as they're goal. Countess Bralor, being the older woman she was, went in search of a nap. Fesma began clearing the table.
"I hope you don't mind, My Lady," Countess Wren put her hand on Khaami's arm, "but could you show me to the fresher?"
"I'll take you," Satine stood, "Khaami, help Fesma."
Countess Wren blushed, "I don't mean to be any trouble, Your Grace."
"Nonesene," the Duchess gestured, "I'm heading in that direction anyway."
On the way to the fresher, Satine noticed the Countess' strained face and stiff movements. She was going to ask if Her Excellency was well, but she knew that to be a silly question.
"Behind the mirror," the Duchess whispered as they approached the fresher, "you'll find what you need."
Countess Wren nodded, "Thank you, Your Grace."
Satine was about to leave, deciding against waiting for the Countess outside her door, when she heard a terrible wail from inside.
"Your Excellency?"
"I," she gasped, "I'm sorry, your Grace, I, I think I need a maid."
Satine pressed her comm and called for Fesma.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" Satine blurbed before she could stop herself.
"No," the Countess' voice broke, "I just, I really thought it would happen this time."
The Duchess was going to ask what would happen, but Fesma arrived, and when she opened the door, Satine saw a bloody crime scene.
Satine pressed her comm just as the door closed, "Khaami, I need you, get a maid to clean up."
"Let's get you cleaned up." Fesma said sadly.
"I prayed so hard," Countess Wren sobbed, "yet every month it's the same."
Satine's eyes widened, and immediately she felt sorry for Ursa Wren. The Countess obviously needed heirs, and not everyone was as fortunate, or unfortunate, as she had been.
Khaami peeked her head around the corner, "Satine?"
"Prepare my parlor," the Duchess leveled her lady a look, "chocolate, cookies, and tea."
Khaami nodded and left.
Satine knocked on the fresher door, "Fesma, how are things going?"
The Countess swallowed, "I'm going to be alright."
Satine was silent for a moment, "Ursa, come upstairs with me, we'll give you something to change into."
"Your Grace-"
"I insist," Satine said gently, "it's only right."
When Fesma and Ursa Wren emerged, Satine led the women through the servants' halls and into her room.
"Fesma," Satine turned, "pick out something comfortable for Ursa."
The lady squeezed the Countess' hand before going into the closet.
"Ursa," the Duchess straightened, "there's something I want to talk to about, something personal."
The Countess tilted her head, "About you or me?"
"Both of us." Satine answered.
After Ursa changed, the trio entered the Duchess' personal parlor, where a cozy spread of food awaited them. Satine sat down on a couch and gestured for Ursa to sit across from her, Fesma and Khaami sat in the two remaining chairs.
Pushing down her nerves, Satine inhaled.
"Your Grace?"
"How badly do you want a child?"
Ursa blinked, shocked.
"I can make it happen," Satine said earnestly, "I know of a baby that will need a home."
It took the Countess a second, but her eyes eventually darted between the Duchess' face and stomach.
"The doctor said I won't have a baby without scientific assistance," Ursa explained, "but I would be glad to help you, Satine."
Tears sprung into the Duchess' eyes, "Please stay as my personal companion, we'll need time to work out the details."
"You're ladies know," Ursa asked, "and are you okay with this?"
"We know." Khaami assured.
"I can't bring myself to terminate the child of the man I love," Satine confessed, "but I can't raise the child as my own."
Ursa nodded, "I will send a message back to my husband telling him to come visit the capitol."
"That will be helpful," Fesma stated, "the Duchess doesn't trust comms."
"Neither would I in this situation." Ursa smiled sadly.
Satine turned to Khaami, "Could you have a room near mine readied for Countess Wren?"
"Of course." the lady stood.
Satine took a cookie, waiting for Khaami to close the door behind her, "You and your husband must understand that no one can know."
"Naturally." Ursa nodded.
"I would like you to help me with some of the procedures we'll have to go through," the Duchess leveled Ursa a look, "such as the financial assistance we'll need for false DNA tests and birth certificates."
The Countess' eyes went wide.
"We keep the real documents hidden," Fesma clarified, "the false ones go where the children do, you shall keep the document belonging to this child."
Ursa nodded, "You are experienced."
"Yes," Satine frowned, "I am."
Ursa was silent until Khaami returned.
"We should swear an oath." the Countess stated finally.
"I agree." the Duchess conferred, nodding to her ladies.
An oath on Mandalore was a very big deal, it was as ancient as swearing on the primitive holy books yet still practiced in value. The only difference is that the searing was done in the Mandalorian style, with blood. The swearing took place in Satine's personal parlor two days later, with the Count and Countess Wren on one side, and the Duchess on the other. Khaami read from the ancient Mandalorian texts as Fesma lit the candles. Then, as Khaami kept reading, Fesma took a knife and slit all six palms of the oath swearers, who dropped blood into a metal bowl.
"I, Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore," Satine began, "head of Clan Kryze, Second of my Name, and Lady Krewella, do so charge you with the care of my child."
The Count and Countess knelt and placed their slit hands above their hearts.
"I, Ursa Wren, Countess Wren, head of Clan Wren, do fully accept this responsibility," Ursa stared into Satine's eyes, "and swear my soul to secrecy."
The Count Wren did the same, and then both drank from the bowl, then the Duchess did, and the oath was sealed.
"This oath is binding." Khaami finished.
The room was quiet for a long time.
"Thank you, Satine," Ursa swallowed, "thank you for making our dreams come true."
As the months went by, Satine's stomach grew under her corset, but the Duchess' personal companion, the Countess Ursa Wren, stated that she noticed nothing strange. This time, Satine was prepared, at the first sign of contractions, she and Ursa headed down into the basement.
"Khaami, Fesma," Satine huffed into her comm, "it's happening."
A few minutes later, Satine's ladies came with warm towels, pain relieving medication, water, and many many holo print papers to clean up the mess.
"Dear God," Satine's breathing became labored, and she leaned on Ursa behind her, "it didn't happen this fast last time."
Khaami turned on the droid and locked the door.
"Hello, I am Oiyo, how can I help you today?"
"My baby is coming," Satine gasped, "hurry!"
"Are you a human female?" the droid asked.
Satine nodded and spread her legs, Fesma readied herself at the foot of the bed. A clicking noise whirred and the droid produced some strange tool. The Duchess shuddered.
"You'll be alright, Satine," Ursa whispered, "the droid knows what it's doing."
"Thank you for being here," Satine looked around the room, "thank you all."
Khaami smiled, "There's no where we'd rather be."
In response, the Duchess yelled.
"Now is the time to start pushing. Oiyo beeped.
Satine's breaths came out in short puffs.
"Keep calm." the droid advised.
Khaami took Satine's free hand. Fesma and Oiyo shared a look.
"Push." the lady told her mistress.
Satine did, screaming her lungs out.
"Squeeze my hand." Khaami offered.
Satine did, a cry pierced the silence that followed.
"It's half out, Satine," Fesma stated urgently, "keep going!"
With a wail and balling her eyes out, the Duchess pushed.
"It's a boy!"
Satine gasped and leaned into Ursa.
"A boy, Satine," the Countess' eyes watered, "you've given me a son."
"What name did you decide on?" Khaami asked, taking the baby in her arms.
Satine and Ursa smiled at one another, "Tristan."
"Tristan?"
"After the valiant knight of old," Ursa explained, "and I like the way it sounds."
The Duchess held her child first, and kissed him.
"Be good for your mother, Tristan," Satine's eyes watered, "she's going to raise you, you know."
"Oh, Satine."
"Be good for me as well," Satine's voice quivered, "be good for Mandalore."
Then she handed the baby to Ursa, who stood up and began rocking Tristan.
"Can I have the birth certificate?" the Duchess asked.
Khaami handed her the paper.
Oiyo whirred, "Your son was born at three fifty-five on the second of Marsh."
Name: Tristan Kryze Date of Birth: 2, Marsh, 37 BBY Birth Time: 3:55
Home Planet: Mandalore Mother: Satine Kryze Father: _
As soon as she filled out the paper, Satine began to cry.
"Satine-"
"Take him and go, Ursa," she sobbed, "take him and go!"
The Duchess buried her head into her knees, pain throbbing, nonetheless, she felt Ursa kiss her cheek.
"Thank you, Satine."
Ten minutes after Ursa was gone, Satine was rocked with more pain.
"Please don't let this happen again," she begged, "no, please no."
Immediately, Fesma turned Oiyo back on.
"Hello, I am-"
"Check if I'm having another baby!" Satine ordered.
The droid did.
"Your contractions are starting up again," it stated, "yes. You are having another baby."
Satine screamed, this time from anger.
"Are you alright in there?" a voice asked from outside.
The Duchess' eyes went wide.
"Yes," Fesma answered, "just need a little cooling off."
"Oh," the voice sounded unsure, "alright."
Khaami passed Satine a towel as the footsteps receded, she stuck it in her mouth and wailed. Khaami then shoved towels under the door before climbing behind Satine to support her.
"This is happening quickly." Fesma observed.
Satine felt it wasn't happening fast enough. She shivered as another wave of pain racked her body.
"Push now." Oiyo beeped.
The Duchess didn't need to be told twice, God, how she hated this. Twice now, nature had surprised her with double what she thought she was getting.
"I see the head, Satine," Fesma said calmly, "please keep going."
Two contractions later, the Duchess had given birth to her second daughter. Fesma announced this and wrapped the baby up in a towel, Khaami got ready to receive the birth certificate.
"What will you call her?" Khaami asked, picking up a pen.
Satine looked at her baby's face, she had tufts of red hair and plush cheeks.
"Mara, after my ancestor, the first Queen."
"Beautiful." Fesma smiled.
As the Duchess fed her baby, a deep melancholy overwhelmed her.
"Tristan-"
"I know." Fesma sighed.
"And this one-"
"I know."
Exhaling loudly, the Duchess asked to see the birth certificate.
Name: Mara Kryze Date of Birth: 2, Marsh, 37 BBY Birth Time: 4:32
Home Planet: Mandalore Mother: Satine Kryze Father: _
"Perfect." she smiled sadly.
Khaami helped Satine upstairs while Fesma cleaned up, only this time, Parna was waiting in the Duchess' bedroom.
Her eyes went wide when she saw Satine, "Your Grace?"
"You mustn't tell anyone," the Duchess growled, "or I will have you and your entire family exiled."
Parna gaped, "Your Grace, I would never."
With visible weariness, Satine sank into her bed, holding Mara in her arms.
"Khaami, will you bring-"
A strange sensation filled Satine, and she looked down, realizing with horror that she was floating. Her eyes fell to Mara's outstretched fingers.
"Oh, Mara," the Duchess' eyes dripped, "please don't let this be true."
"I know someone, Your Grace," Parna stated, "my brother knows a little of the force's ways."
Satine looked up.
"Of course," Parna blushed, "he doesn't use it for savory purposes."
By the time Fesma returned, a plan had been laid out. Parna's brother would come to visit her at the palace, and she would hand him the baby and a bag of jewels for false documents. This would all take place tomorrow, so Satine had a night with the baby. She spent most of that night on a holo call with Ursa.
"How-"
"He's perfect," Ursa answered with a smile, "everyone loves and thinks we adopted him. They believed the documents."
"That's good to hear." Satine remarked.
"And," Ursa paused, "you're okay with this?"
"Yes," the Duchess nodded, "and I had another baby."
"What?"
"A girl," Satine held Mara up to the camera, "Parna's brother is going to take her."
"The brother of a maid," Ursa questioned, "why?"
"He can look after her," Satine assured mostly herself, "Parna is going to take a few days off to see them settled."
"Good."
Satine swallowed, "Thank you again, Ursa."
"Thank you, Satine," Ursa lowered her head, "he's truly a prince among Mandalorians."
"That he is."