Prologue
"But Father, I love him!"
"Eclypsa, if you leave now, I will disown you!"
"I don't care!"
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"Eclypsa… I don't think we work together. I think it's time to call it quits.''
"I left my family for you! I gave everything up for you!"
"Sorry…"
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And that is how I ended up here, Eclypsa thought. Penniless, friendless, loveless, hopeless. Grasping at straws. Movement at her side quickly returned her attention to the present. A small man with a bad comb over puttered to her.
"Eclypsa Delalune, you have been chosen to enter the Selection." the stout official pinned a pendant onto her dress. She looked around lazily at the rest of the hopefuls. Of course she was chosen, she was the most beautiful of the bunch by far. While the other ladies dolled themselves up in the most intricate hairstyles and gowns, their finery couldn't disguise their plainness or ugly jealous eyes. Eclypsa wore her knee length blue-black hair loose over a plain white dress. Though plain, the gown was so expertly tailored it simultaneously hugged and floated around her. She looked elegant while the other women looked overdone. There should have been a Countess in front of her name, Eclypsa gritted her teeth but let it go. She would have the opportunity to show this pompous little official who she truly was once she won the crown.
Without a backwards look at the world she was leaving behind, Eclypsa entered the next chapter of her life with her head high.
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Anakin sat in his dark office lost in his reverie, surrounded by paperwork. After Padme died, Anakin was barely holding it together. His grafts ached and his mind kept wandering to the past. Dwelling in happier memories and the what ifs had made him put aside his work. Now the unsigned documents from the past week accumulated and he was swamped in paperwork and bureaucracy. Who said that running an Empire was easy? Frustrated, he ran a hand through his bronzed curls and stared at another paper until his blue eyes watered.
"Master!" A tall Togruta barged into his office without knocking. Only his apprentice could do so without inflaming his wrath. Anakin gave his faithful Ahsoka a weary smile. She was growing lean and tall, finally moving past her gangly teenage phase. She walked to the window and Anakin threw up his hands futilely.
"No, Ahsoka! Don't!"
With a dramatic flair, Ahsoka swept the heavy velvet curtains open. Brilliant sunlight flooded the room, chasing the shadows away relentlessly. Quickly, he tried to cover his eyes but it was too late. A sudden headache hit Anakin between the eyes like a spike through the head.
"Kriff, Ahsoka. Close them-" he gestured blindly at the curtains.
"Master, Emperor or not, you need to get out of this office and get some sunlight. You've been in here for the last 3 days!" Through the thin skin of his eyelids, Anakin could see his Right Hand standing with her hands on her hips blocking out the bright bright light.
"And you need a shave! You look like a nerf herder!" Ahsoka helped him up from his chair.
"I'll execute you for your insolence," Anakin grumbled half-heartedly. Ahsoka made a rude sound. They both knew that he would never hurt her; she and he were the last ties to their former lives. Ahsoka led him gently out of his office and immediately, he was greeted by his Grand Moff.
"Moff Tarkin," Anakin inclined his head, hoping his official couldn't tell how worn he was but the man's sharp blue eyes told him otherwise. Tarkin kept his opinions to himself and instead of commenting on his superior's appearance he asked, "Emperor Skywalker, have you considered my suggestion?"
Anakin rubbed his chin, grimacing at the feeling of stubble. Snips was right, he needed to shave. "I have. Moff Tarkin, I put the selection in your hands. Find me an Empress."