When she was finished with clearing up the sanctuary Luzaya felt calmer, her temper cooled somewhat. Yet resentment was still simmering in her heart. Even though her primary motive of becoming Naas Deron's apprentice had been to learn, she realized that the more intimate relationship that connected her to her mentor was getting the better of her. She felt rejected, used and ignored, something that would never have even registered with her had they not been lovers, but simply master and apprentice. If she followed reason her only choice would be to end their private relationship and keep the professional one. But the princess found it hard to let go. Did she love him? No. And still, there was something, some feeling she could not ignore.
Suddenly she glared at Mahel, as if he might be able to read her thoughts somehow. He was not even looking at her, but kept his gaze wandering all over the temple's sanctuary like the good bodyguard he was supposed to be. Luzaya gave a low snort. If Naas had thought to keep his hand hidden in deploying that watchdog he had blundered badly, and probably that had been deliberate on his part. But what did it mean? Why Mahel Sivaraya of all soldiers available? He was young, and he must have been an inexperienced warrior by the end of the war, for him to bear no scars of honor at all. Well, Luzaya mused, she had not seen all of him yet, and usually the warriors wore their mutilations openly and in prominent places. So, he had obviously rejected that cruel custom of his people. Why? The answer was obvious. Mahel had chosen to find a new belief in the Cor'dan's teachings on balance.
With newfound respect the princess straightened to study him more intently. For all the clumsiness and naivité he had displayed just yesterday, he was much more courageous than she had been when choosing to run from her sheltered home. Contrary to Mahel, Luzaya had kept her ties to her home, which was convenient as well as comfortable. Her chest tightened in apprehension. Perhaps she was more of a coward than she had thought. On one hand she did not want to be sheltered and looked after all the time, but on the other hand she was afraid to let go and start a life of her own. Mahel must have noticed her steady gaze, for he turned his head to look at her with a question plain in his dark eyes. The princess shook her head with a reassuring smile and he resumed his watch again unpertubed.
"Well, I am finished," she announced, already turning toward the back of the sanctuary. Mahel followed her instantly as she made for the far end and entered the gloomy hallway that connected the temple's santuary to the Cor'dan's living-quarters.
They were made up of three rooms, all oppressive and dark, with no windows at all. Naas Deron had explained to her that it felt better to have no distraction at all for once, and she guessed that, as Cor'dan, one was exposed to the world constantly, assaulted by images and sounds of any kind. The first room was where she found her teacher, seated on one of the large cushions set around a low table, with fat candles illuminating the gloomy scene. A short alien was seated on another cushion, and rose abruptly when she entered.
"Princess," he said with a small bow, and Luzaya nodded at him graciously.
"A pleasure to see you again, Andarack clan Rim'kai."
A choking sound from behind her snapped her head around, and she saw Mahel's eyes blaze with something she had never thought to see in his placid features: anger. All of a sudden his face, dominated by high cheekbones and a low forehead that sloped backward and made him look like the member of some feline species, appeared very menacing indeed. She saw his body tense, his shoulders curling inward, his back bowed ever so slightly. And if she was any judge she was standing between him and his quarry. Stepping out of the way smartly, Luzaya gave Andarack a calm glance. The Noghri seemed fairly unimpressed by the young Yuuzhan Vong's display of hostility, but then, he could be. As Sith warrior, the Noghri was a formidable foe. Naas was watching both the Noghri and Mahel intently, his dark eyes suddenly much harder than before. Then he waved his right hand curtly and frowned.
"Mahel. None of this is justified," the Cor'dan admonished the warrior sharply, and the Yuuzhan Vong relaxed instantly, like a well-trained battle-dog.
But Andarack continued gazing at his would-be opponent intently. "What is your problem?" he asked.
"A death in the family," was Mahel's choked answer.
Luzaya stared at him, then at Andarack. Revelation came with sudden clarity. Of course, one lost one's old name upon Naming Day. Before she had become Luzaya Dan her parents had called her Jolene, and Mahel Sivaraya must have shed his old name too, once he had agreed to the naming. The fact that he displayed such hatred toward Andarack clan Rim'kai now could only mean that he was a relative of the Yuuzhan Vong Warmaster Marayl Carr, whom Andarack had slain during the battle for Almashin, a kill that had gained him a lot of respect and fear throughout the realm. Even though all Yuuzhan Vong were keen on honor and revenge concerning family, the vehemence of the young warrior's reaction prompted her to conclude that Marayl Carr had been his father, most probably.
Her respect for Mahel increased a hundredfold, especially for his show of restraint and courage to put that grief behind him. But at the same time her curiosity peaked, as she asked herself why he had chosen to shed that past. To forget? To avoid becoming a slave to revenge? Or out of sincere committment to balance? Yet Luzaya had learned enough not to simply blurt out her questions. When Naas bade her to sit down she did as told, joining him and Andarack, while Mahel remained standing, which was perfectly acceptable for her bodyguard. She tore her attention back into the present and looked directly at her teacher.
"Cor'dan, you asked to speak to me?"
He nodded, having dismissed the small incident instantly. "Concerning your father."
Luzaya's brows shot up. "Yes?"
"The Cor'dan is guide and guardian, meaning that you must provide guidance if asked. Your father is not a proud man, I know, but a perfectionist. He will feel useless, now that he is temporarily unable to conduct state affairs. You should go to him and offer an ear for his sorrows."
"And learn?" she asked slyly. That had been one of his first lessons, that more information was gained by listening than by asking questions, especially if they were the wrong ones.
He nodded. "And learn. Yes. I know you have a lot of questions that need answering," he added quietly, and was right on target. Luzaya blushed slightly before she rose with a small bow.
"Yes, Cor'dan. I will go and learn," she replied.
When she turned around to leave she found Mahel staring at her curiously. She almost snapped his head off for that look, but reined her temper in just in time. No need to vent her frustration on innocents. But she could sense her lover's eyes lingering on her back, and she knew he would lecture her about the dangers of an uncontrolled temper again tonight. Suppressing a sigh, Luzaya left.
The next day Franzis for once decided to follow his wife's instructions without protest and remained in bed. Through the open door of the bedroom he watched Yana dress, assisted by her handmaidens, and approved of her somewhat martial outfit with a weary nod. Instead of the heavy dresses she usually preferred, she now wore light black armor over a black bodysuit. Her amphistaff had changed its color accordingly, fading against the black background. To a fleeting glance it could pass as a shoulder decoration of sorts. While her handmaidens were still busy putting up her hair, she was gazing at Franzis thoughtfully.
"Who is taking over business until you are sufficiently recovered?" she asked.
"Jiliha n'Averone," he replied smoothly, but her pale blue eyes started flashing nevertheless.
"That wench? No doubt she is a good politician and administrator, but far too vain for my taste."
Franzis risked a grin. Yana was jealous of Jiliha, not only because the councillor spent almost more time with Franzis than his wife did, but also because Jiliha was undoubtedly the most beautiful female on the Imperial Advisory Council. Noticing his expression, Yana tugged on her black gloves with a bit more force than strictly necessary. She cocked her eyebrows meaningfully.
"Take care that she does not stab you in the back while you are incapacitated," she admonished him lightly.
"Would she gain your approval?" he asked back.
"Never." Her face was dead-pan. "I got to go. Sleep and rest, love. I will ask the medics to check on you at noon."
He sat up hopefully, fighting down a dizzy spell. "What if I get bored?"
"Don't be childish," she retorted with a loving smile.
"You know, you could check on me too, at noon. That might do wonders for my recovery," he added with a wink. Yana laughed, then shook her head.
"Ah, regretfully I will have to meet Naas Deron for lunch."
He pursed his lips in an unpractised pout. "A pity. Perhaps I will ask Jiliha to keep me company then."
"Tease," she accused him. "I mean it," she continued, totally earnest again. "If the medics are not satisfied with your condition at noon I will have you sedated so you will truly rest."
"I will do as you command, Empress," he lied, straight-faced. Yana merely shook her head again, then turned around to leave, not without a few last instructions whispered at her handmaidens. Then the door closed, and Franzis waited ten seconds before he rang for the serving staff. The handmaiden who stuck her head in frowned at him.
"Your Highness, what can I do for you?"
"Please bring my compad and datapad. I have work to do."
"But, Your Highness, Her Majesty left explicit orders – "
"Another word and you will get an explicit notice terminating your service with this household. Clear?"
"Perfectly clear, sir, yes," she said between gritted teeth, and even managed a curtsy before she left again.
Franzis shook his head. It was so hard to get good personnel today. Even though he shared Yana's view of Jiliha's skills as administrator, he would be damned if he left the Advisory Council unobserved. Who knew what ideas they might get into their heads while he was recovering?
But his thoughts were interrupted when the door opened again. Preparing to deliver a lashing comment, Franzis swallowed his words when he saw who it was, and his features lit up with joy. "Luzaya!"
She gave him an apologetic smile, then conducted a fierce whispered conversation with someone standing outside – either Mahel or the handmaidens, Franzis guessed – then slipped into the room, closing the door behind her.
"Father," she whispered, then walked closer and took a seat at the edge of the bed.
"Your mother did not send you to make sure I am behaving, did she?"
She laughed out loud. "No, of course not. Though I am certain her handmaidens would just love having me tell her that you want to work, despite your poor health."
Franzis folded his hands on the sheet covering him and nodded. "What can I do for you? Do you need advice for something?"
"Yes," she replied simply. "I want to know what exactly is going on."
"I am not sure I understand."
Leaning toward him, Luzaya tried her best smile. "Father, I am not an impressionable child any more. Mother assigns a bodyguard to protect me, which I can even understand after what happened to you, but I know for certain that it was Deron who chose him in the first place. There is more behind this than just some scheme that was doomed from the very beginning. Please," she asked sweetly.
"All right," he breathed, bracing himself. "This will not be nice."
Naas Deron had seen Andarack off just as he received a summons from the Empress. Staring at the message pensively, the Cor'dan stood silent for a while, letting his thoughts drift. He had not wanted Luzaya to learn just yet, who her protector was. There was a chance that the princess would lose what little trust she might have had in Mahel now. It would have been more desirable to have the two of them get to form a deeper relationship first, before revealing the Yuuzhan Vong warrior's origins. Well, no matter. He could not turn back time, unfortunately. What would the Empress want? Probably information on what was going on. He could not tell her everything, he knew. That was one of the setbacks of being Cor'dan. Having to stand back and let destiny run its course. Yet, was he seeing clearly in this? Was he considering everything? Somehow he felt uncertain of that. As if the net his enemies had thrown around him was tightening further, unstoppably, no matter what he did to tear it apart.
Well, all he had to do was to prevent anyone else from becoming tangled in that web along with him. Which was why Luzaya had to leave.
At last, Naas Deron decided to follow the summons, but walked over to the sanctuary first. Standing at the threshold, he let his eyes wander over the gloomy chamber. Deliberately slow, he made his way to the altar that stood in the midst of the great hall, whispering under his breath, a whisper that grew in intensity and summoned filigrane tendrils of darkness from the shadows. The altar had been carved from the fallen spire back on Laa'kuan, and when he put his left hand down on its smooth surface, he let the shadows lead him to that distant world. Roj Kell had been able to transcend time and space by travelling the shadows. And though Deron was not that adept yet, he had learned to project his awareness, at least, using a familiar presence as anchor. The presence he sought now was the yammosk on Kynda'bey. The great beast greeted him with its usual overbearing enthusiasm. But Deron did not bother with conversing with the yammosk. He let the telepath bolster his own perception, and soon he found himself suspended above the labyrinthine maze of Laa'kuan. Beneath him, the depiction of the galaxy turned from image to reality, and Deron was again awestruck by the sheer grandeur of life and death, darkness and light.
The worlds of the Empire were wreathed in shadow, their light dimmed by distrust and suppressed aggression. Compressing his lips into a thin line, Deron found his own heart responding to that darkness, reminding him all too acutely of the bond that connected him to this realm. In a sense, his connection to the Force made him its slave, and even though he enjoyed more freedom than anyone else, he was a prisoner too. The path he had selected for the Empire had not entirely been his own choice. It was part of Roj Kell's legacy, that could not be postponed any longer, and even though Deron shared Anakin Skywalker's confidence, that the Empire would survive the coming crisis, he wondered whether the way to do it was the right one. He was giving his enemies too much leeway, and one result had been Franzis Sarreti's close call with death. Another was, that the responsibility for what was to come would land squarely on the Cor'dan's shoulders.
In a sense, Deron envied Roj Kell. The old man's realm had encompassed the entire galaxy, and more, and he had not been responsible to anyone but himself. But Naas Deron's authority was restricted to the Empire alone. And his authority was official, though not fully accepted by all factions within the empire. Well. He would change that. Definitely. But first ... Tapping into the yammosk's awareness, Naas Deron sought and found another presence. He could sense his victim's determination and his resolve, and no doubt he would succeed, if Deron allowed it, but that could not happen. Strictly speaking it was an execution for a crime not yet committed, yet Deron had long found that those words were not compatible with the Cor'dan's justice. To him all beings were no more than pawns. He struck without warning, and immediately retreated from the yammosk and Laa'kuan, but the death he had caused still lashed across is mind, adding another scar to his very soul. With a low gasp, the Cor'dan stumbled back from the altar and shook his head to get rid of the eerie sensation of being death itself.
For a moment he stood very still, brooding. There was a reason why no Cor'dan should remain alone, why no Cor'dan should be overburdened with responsibility. He was both. Deron knew exactly why Alda Magor had chosen a Dark Jedi as her consort. Not only because Lyve Waroon could match her power, but also because his devotion reminded her of her humaneness. And even though another famous Cor'dan, Jamal Irduyn, had never chosen a mate, he had had only a very small clan to contend with. Roj Kell, then, had been an exception. The only assurance the galaxy had had against him had been his knowledge, which had governed the raw force of the Cor'dan. And Belana Jen, who had taught her lover about compassion and forgiveness. Anakin Skywalker had had his family, and enough humility to refrain from abusing his power, which he had done long enough as Darth Sidious' henchman.
Those safeguards Naas Deron did not have. He did not love Luzaya. The woman he had loved had died in the battle for Almashin, and her death had ripped a wound in his heart that had filled up with ice, no matter how hard his friend and mentor Chi'in had tried to prevent that from happening. There were dangers in having no emotional anchor and an entire empire to deal with, and that had been his reason to request assurances from the Council of Naboo.
Sometimes he still wondered why Anakin Skywalker had chosen him to be his successor. He did not feel competent of wise enough at all. Naas Deron was a warrior, had been trained to be a warrior, and his brief service as ambassador to the Chiss on Almashin had not polished that martial training at all, as the battle for Almashin had shown. And yet, he was Cor'dan, and he had to make the right choices and pay the price.
"Where to begin?" Father sighed, wringing his hands in silent anguish. He wanted to spare her what he was going to say, she realized, but Luzaya was prepared. Or so she thought. "Even though we have enjoyed a period of peace ever since the foundation of the new empire and the Council of Naboo, prejudices prevail, in the New Republic as well as inside the Empire."
She frowned at that. "But we are allied with the New Republic, are we not?"
"No, we are not. We are allied with the Chiss Empire and the Star People. That is all." Luzaya digested this, suddenly aware that her friendship to Jacen and Jaina Solo, to their parents and friends, was actually more special than she had though. Father's lips compressed into a tight line. Then he began anew. "Many people remember the old empire and some remember the Yuuzhan Vong and their brutal antics. Those people believe that the Empire is corrupt and violent itself, that it is a threat to the galactic community. What business ties we have extend through the Confederate Zone, which is a neutral trade nation. We retain good relations to the Council of Naboo, yes, but even though the Council runs a lot of schemes and sees to it that order and peace prevail, many worlds remember Palpatine's rule and are suspicious of your mother's politics. You must understand that they believe she has pardoned a savage people and welcomed them into the galactic community without consulting anyone else, which, in fact, she did."
"But where would they have gone if she had refused them? They would have been slaughtered in a bloody war!" Luzaya exclaimed, shocked.
Her father's features turned blank. "Most probably, yes. And many politicians, even here, still believe that would have been the easier choice. They may be right, but we will never know, and, personally, I do not want to even think about any such thing. On the other hand, the older Yuuzhan Vong are used to a stronger hand in government, but your mother tries to combine monarchy and democracy in one. You would not believe how many conservative Yuuzhan Vong still call the citizens outside the empire infidels, and scorn their fellow citizens that are not Yuuzhan Vong. Integrating them into the empire will take a very long time. And meanwhile many factions will seek to change the future government."
"I am not sure I understand," she confessed, biting her lower lip. And here she had thought she had learned a bit more of life during her two years as Naas Deron's apprentice. But he had obviously shielded her from the truth just the same as her parents had done. "You mean to tell me that no one is really satisfied with the way things are, yes?"
"Yes. In a broad sense."
"Then the New Republic distrusts us and the Chiss do not really care?"
Father shrugged. "Bluntly put, Luzaya, the Empire faces a lot of hostile feelings and prejudices. Many people are all too quick to blame your mother. Most, though, do not care for as long as they are left alone and get what they want, most of the time, at least. Anakin Skywalker and Naas Deron have both been working toward molding old Yuuzhan Vong and Sith traditions into something new, but it will take a generation or two until those efforts take effect. Meanwhile there will be a growing gap between young and old, traditionalists and liberals. And the greatest problem with that is that the rest of the empire does not even understand what the debate is about. As far as battles go, this one is far from over."
Luzaya blinked her eyes once or twice, just a little bit shocked at her own ignorance. She had grown up pampered and protected, never realizing the depth of politics at the Imperial Court. Suddenly she felt angry at both her parents and her mentor, but then she revised that thought again. Her parents had to be forgiven, they had only sought to keep their only child from any harm, but Naas Deron – had he deliberately kept her in the dark?
"How does Mother see the situation?" she asked at last, very quietly.
"She is angry. Very angry. And tired, I think. She is an idealist at heart, and she hates to see that the galaxy is not the tolerant haven she hoped to build after war's end." Father grimaced ever so slightly. "I remember I once told her that it was better to wait for years to have the power one needs to rule than to die within a week. I wish I hadn't made such an accurate prediction."
"I doubt she'll hold you responsible for internal strife," Luzaya reasoned with a smile, but Father's face remained earnest.
"As head administrator it is my duty to achieve at least a balance between the factions. But that balance is very precarious right now. Especially now."
Only belatedly did she realize how sick he looked all of a sudden. "Father?" He gasped for air and she gripped his hand, calling for the handmaidens waiting in the outer room. They were with her instantly, Mahel in tow. "We need a medic!" Luzaya exclaimed, on the verge of turning hysteric.
"Your Highness, please calm down," one of the women murmured soothingly and gently urged the princess to rise and make room.
A moment later two medics appeared. They must have arrived even while she had been talking with Father, Luzaya realized. With tears in her eyes, she let Mahel lead her away. Yet when she left her parents' chambers Luzaya felt as if waking from a daze.
"He will recover," Mahel told her with quiet confidence, but she waved him into silence.
Her head whipped around as she fixed him in an icy glare. "I will find out who was behind this attack," she declared, "and I just know who I will ask."
Mahel kept pace with Luzaya Dan, keeping as wary an eye on his charge as on the shadows and hallways they crossed on their way to wherever the princess sought to find her answers. He had no idea what the royal consort had told his daughter, but it seemed to have shaken her and had woken an iron determination he had not seen on her face before. Gone was the angry pout, the calculated smiles, and what was revealed underneath resembled her mother more and more. And yet, while Luzaya was filled with a desire to avenge her father, Mahel found that he had felled his own fury with brute force, keeping it locked inside him, as the Cor'dan had told him to. He had not felt that fury in years, but his unfortunate encounter with the warrior who had slain his father had rekindled it again.
Mahel had not met Andarack clan Rim'kai before, and he had feared to ever meet him, uncertain whether he would be courageous enough to refrain from foolish violence. He understood the honor the victory at Almashin had given the short alien, of course, and yet he still felt the pull of ancient custom that should have pitted him against the Noghri in a battle to the death. It had not been a fair fight that had seen his father dead, and it would not have been a fair fight had Mahel challenged the Sith Lord to a duel. Still, it was not that reason that had made him bow to the Cor'dan's order. He had learned to be patient, to not let himself be ruled by the same destructive force that guided his elders. When he had chosen to become the Cor'dan's follower he had also decided to embrace the new beginning the Empress had promised, to leave everything behind.
He had not wanted to dishonor his father's memory, and yet he had, in the eyes of many who knew him. His siblings would not speak to him, and he was an outcast among his own caste. Only here, on Byss, where the Empress' rule overshadowed everything else, had he had a chance to remain a warrior and still serve a new order.
"Is that why he assigned you to me?" Luzaya Dan asked suddenly, and Mahel, who had stopped when she had, his body completely in sync with hers, gazed sharply down at her.
"Your Highness, what do you mean?"
"He knew that you would understand me better, having lost your own father, and would seek to protect me from suffering the same way you did."
"You know nothing of suffering or pain," Mahel snapped, regretting his words instantly.
But Luzaya Dan's pale blue eyes were pits of cold calculation and all too knowing. "So you do have a temper. I almost would have believed you had tried to erase all traces of your heritage, but I can see that none of use can really escape our past. Is that not so?" He nodded mutely. "I believe I can see it now, more clearly. He chose you because of who you are, and what your betrayal means to your elders."
"I have betrayed no one and nothing," the Yuuzhan Vong replied fervently. "I made my own choices."
"Politics," she admonished him, then gave a soft groan. "I wish I had a sounder understanding of it." Her sharp eyes turned on him abruptly. "Come. I need to talk to the Cor'dan again."
Yana gave Naas Deron a cold look as he took a seat opposite from her, his expression and emotions unreadable. He gave the dining room a once-over – an old habit, she knew – then nodded toward her with a polite smile.
"I did not know this would be such a formal occasion," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, I had rather expected you to confront me with one of your infamous rants. But instead you invite me for lunch. That is so – civilized."
"And I am uncivilized?" she relied curtly, placing a napkin on her lap carefully, before she snapped her fingers to signal the servants to begin serving the dishes.
"No one would be affronted if you acted a bit more emotional. Least of all myself," he said soothingly.
Yana caught his eye, frowning. She had an idea what he was getting at, and she did not like it one bit. "So you would like me to act uncivilized," she stated. "I see. I never deliver on expectations, you should know that."
"Perhaps you should, for once."
"Why?"
"Because now it will serve to confuse the enemy. Later on, an unexpected emotional outburst will only confuse you."
The Empress' head came up sharply, startling the servant who had just bent down to fill her plate with a ladle of soup. "You should remember who you are, and who I am. You are a guide, a guardian. You are not a leader. And certainly no teacher." Tearing off a piece of bread from the small loaf set beside her plate, Yana dunked it into the soup slowly, and he watched her just as intently. "The Cor'dan is above the Empress' law, yes. But your responsibility is to the people, just as mine. Speak clearly, Naas Deron, and spare your riddles for your enemies."
He nodded. "If I may?" A mere glance from his dark brown eyes, directed at the row of servants waiting their turn, dispersed them and sent them running from the room. Then those eyes turned on her, as hard as polished stone. Yet Yana refused to be intimidated. But his words still chilled her heart. "You are Empress, Yana Dar, but know this: your responsibility toward the people forbids you to needlessly risk your throne. This attack on your consort was no random act. There is a plan behind this. It could cost your life, and your people's freedom."
"Then what do you advise me to do?" she asked, her voice shaking somewhat.
He leaned back in his seat again. "You have been lenient in the past, allowing envious and ambitious people to fill your palace. They know the proceedings of the court, and they are aware of your weaknesses. Your mercy, forgive me for saying so, may have been of great publicity value, but in the long run it might doom you. Lord Kell told you that you must be hard on your councillors and warriors. Yet not only wartimes require ruthlessness."
"Franzis Sarreti is anything but merciful. He knows exactly who to punish, and how," she countered.
"But it is you that people look to."
Yana's face darkened. "I will not let you talk me into employing my father's methods. Not you of all people."
"On the contrary." His smile was shocking. "But very soon the galaxy will be looking at the empire very closely. You have to decide what you want to show them. You know what they are seeing right now, and you know what they will be seeing if you get your way and that conspiracy is uncovered."
"You suggest I remain passive?"
"I suggest you deal with this quietly and quickly. If you can. Even though I fear it is already too late."
She leaned toward him, her eyes narrowing. "Naas Deron, I ask you directly. Do you know who has ordered my husband's assassination?"
"I would not want to risk the empire on my word, were I you," he replied in a low voice and Yana felt her skin crawl. "But this I tell you: Your enemies are within and without your realm, and the only ones who can uncover the conspirators outside of the empire are the Council's hunters. Andarack will speak to them."
"Elu Cha is ignorant of such a conspiracy," Yana told him quietly. "The deception sect was the first place I looked."
"The fact that he does not know does not mean that his sect is not involved. But he will do everything he can to find out, I can assure you. He is honorable."
"Which makes him a target for those traitors?" she asked pointedly.
"Yes. Just as you and I make excellent targets."
Deron raised his brows meaningfully, leaving the Empress to think this through. She averted her gaze to look toward the viewport, then rose from her seat to walk over and look out over the city. Her shoulders heaved in a soundless sigh, before she spoke:
"Luzaya is too innocent to witness this, and if the worst happens, I do not want her to be here. You must send her away."
"You will have to do that," he answered and rose to join her at the window.
He refrained from telling her that the princess would undoubtedly be put off by her mother's cruelty, if push came to shove. She would be appalled, and she would break Yana's heart by rejecting her. But if she stayed, Yana would be more vulnerable than she was even now. So he had to decide what would be best for both, and best, he knew, would be for him to shoulder all responsibility. As if she had read his thoughts Yana Dar turned her head to gaze at him openly. He was aware of her Force-sensivity, of course, and of her heritage, but he had thought he had shielded his own emotions better than that. That he had not, she proved by saying:
"Your responsibility weighs heavier than mine, Cor'dan. I cannot excempt you from what you named my duty, and I shall follow Lord Kell's advice for now." A look of pain crossed her brilliant blue eyes and to his surpise she ran the back of her hand over his cheek in a motherly gesture. "Why did she choose that path?" she asked, voice breaking. "It is inhuman, full of sacrifices. I wanted her to have it better than I did. I do not want her to have to fight all the way."
Naas Deron gently took her hand and retreated a step. She noticed it with sadness in her eyes. But he did not want to be reminded of what he had given up when he had chosen his own destiny, to follow the legacy of such men as Roj Kell and Anakin Skywalker. "No sacrifice is worth more than what is gained by it," he answered hoarsely.
"As any mother will know," she whispered, and smiled. "Do you miss Puket sometimes?"
Of all things, he had not expected this. His face hardened instantly. "That is past, Empress. I am still fond of her, and hold her memory close, but that is all."
"And what is it that you feel for my daughter? Fondness? Or even love?"
How to answer that question without hurting her pride? He stiffened some more, resolving to be honest with her. "Luzaya is very important to the survival of the Empire. That I do value in her. Anything else is her choice alone." Including her decision to become his lover. He did not want Yana to think he had seduced her little girl, but she seemed to know that already.
Cocking one eyebrow she said: "She does make her own choices, yes, but she is still under the impression that others will clean up after her messes. I hope you are teaching her differently."
"I try."
"And why Mahel Sivaraya? Because he embodies the new generation?" she inquired further.
"He is Marayl Carr's son."
Inhaling sharply, she turned away. For a long moment she kept silent, and he could sense her anger reawakening revulsion and hatred as she thought of her old nemesis. But then her fury focused in a single flame that burned with frightening intensity. "His son," she breathed. "I had thought that Domain Carr had chosen a self-imposed exile far from Byss to shame me. You are taking great risks, Naas Deron. And I am not sure I want to stand between you and your enemies when they decide to punish you for your blasphemy."
He laughed out loud. "Empress! You should hear yourself talk! Blasphemy? Is it not the very essence of forgiveness to entrust your daughter's life into the hands of your enemy's offspring? And would it not be the most devious of betrayals if he were to cause her injury? That is the goal of this conspiracy. And if you are unprepared for that you will fall."
"I know what you mean," she growled. "But no matter how honest you know Mahel to be, he will be facing severe reprimands from his elders, his family even. From myself, perhaps. Will his honesty stand against that?"
"You forget one thing," Deron told her calmly. "I have seen his future. Believe me, I would not have done what I did had things been different."
She gazed at him again, her expression one of hurt and regret. "I wish I could trust you, Naas Deron. But I know what you are, what you were. If my daughter is harmed because of you, you will pay dearly, and I will see to it that the Cor'dan perish forever. Do you understand?"
"I do," he replied calmly, and nodded.
TBC
Hehe, the secret of posting so much so fast is having written over fifty pages in advance.