Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with me, guys; I realize that I haven't updated in nearly a month.  I blame school and finals!  I'll try to make the upcoming chapters a mite-trite longer.  Be on the look out for more updates later on, since it's summer now, and I'll be writing more.

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Part Five (5/12/02)

We drank a few more glasses of wine, making me feel a little less clear-headed. The Duchess and I continued to make pleasant, albeit stupid, conversation. I was beginning to wonder just how many planets' weather systems we could go over in a night. We must have been speaking for at least an hour, but it felt more like days.

Maecenas came by to check up on us a few times, but, other than that, I was pretty much on my own.

Alone.

With her.

"My son-in-law just loves watching the races," she mused, her eyes fluttering over my body again. "He must go to every season."

Son-in-law?

"Are you married, Milady?" I asked. My stomach began to churn wildly, but I attempted to ignore it. I sat my glass on a passing tray; I didn't want to make myself any sicker than I already was.

She let out a sharp laugh – though it sounded more like a giggle or a croak – and tapped her elaborately manicured fingernail on the rim of her glass. I sighed silently during this whole performance and reminded myself that repeating, "You're not really here, it's only a nightmare" over and over again in my mind, could only work for so long.

I tried, instead, to turn this new situation to my advantage. "I would not want to incur the anger of your husband, Milady." Sometimes a little gentlemanliness was the best thing.

"I'm not anymore," she whispered, her voice husky in an endeavor to be seductive.

I paused to calm myself, hoping to find a way to get through this horrible night. I could act, pretty well, in fact, and I pulled together all my nerves to appear more confident than I really was.

The Duchess leaned closer to me. Standing on her tiptoes, she ran she bright blue fingernail lovingly across my cheek. Before I had a chance to react, she whispered something quite obscene into my ear. I fought the urge to jump away and forced the rising bile back down my throat with a hard swallow.

"Would you like to dance, Milady?" I asked, amazed by the flatness in my voice. I knew this suggestion may have seemed rather abrupt after what she just said, but I couldn't think of anything better to say.

"Yes," she said and, to my utter joy, backed off my shoulder. But what happened next was a shock to everyone involved.

She must have leaned back too far and too fast because she bumped the serving girl walking behind her.

There was a loud crash as numerous wine glasses fell to the floor. The Duchess let out a shriek that rattled in my ears for a full minute, while the serving girl choked back a sob. The Duchess clasped back onto my shoulder, as if she were afraid of the little slave. She turned to look back at the cause of her distress, a bitter, annoyed look in her eyes.

The girl, for her part, immediately flew to the ground to pick up the spillage. Her light pink veils cascaded around her loosely covered body as she did so, causing me to be reminded of the sunset on Tatooine.

"You clumsy fool," the Duchess wailed at the girl from her perch on my shoulder. Her nails sunk into my arm, causing the muscles there to involuntarily react with a flinch.

"Oh, Anakin," she continued her rant with a drawn out whine. "Look at my gown!"

She turned her ebony glare back on me, picking up one her feather-light blue sleeves. "It is ruined!" Her lips transformed into a cruel pout as I glanced down to stare at the 'stain.'

I couldn't see anything on that piece of fabric and wasn't too surprised either, since the liquid that had been spilled was clear. Wanting to seem an observant person however, I simply nodded.

She returned her attention back to the slave girl, who was still tying to pick up the mess.

"Explain yourself!" the Duchess nearly screamed at her. The servant looked up, and I realized that I hadn't actually seen her before.

She had dark, chocolate-colored eyes that, for a slave, bore sneeringly into the Duchess's. She didn't bother to look at me - her aggravated gaze was solely for the elder woman. I had never seen another slave behave with such pride before. She also had a slight, angelic face that, if I hadn't known better, I would have sworn belonged to a queen.

When I was younger, space pirates comming into Watto's junk shop used to tell me stories about the creatures on other planets. There were angels, they had said, that lived on the moons of Iego. This girl, with her petite form and soft face could have easily been one, like a living fairytale.

The Duchess, politician as she was, knew exactly what the girl's expression meant.

"You will pay for this, little wench," she hissed. "Who is your master?" The girl, for all her composed, mask-like strength, couldn't help but to let her eyes widen.

She was still cleaning up the glass during the conversation, but was no longer paying attention to her hands. When the Duchess had finished speaking, the girl's finger slipped and a bright red gash opened up, covering both the finger and the glass shard that cut it. She winced, dropping the glass on the floor and bringing the wounded finger up to her lips. Tears filled her eyes, probably less from the pain than from the trouble she'd get in because of the Duchess's attitude.

It was horribly unfair, and it didn't take me very long to react. I bent down and joined the girl on the floor, intent on helping her with the mess. I started to shovel up some of the pieces. She seemed surprised by this behavior and stopped her task completely to stare at me, bewildered.

That glance - her eyes poring into mine - made my breath seep helplessly out of my lungs. Her eyes were so intense, so passionate, that I could do no less than allow the rest of the galaxy fade into the background. She was confused; her bottomless brown eyes showed this confusion, her pride, her past suffering, and a dark, obvious hatred. Hatred for me.

I remembered the clothes I was wearing just then - the expensive set that Maecenas had given me - the boots, and the company I'd 'chosen.' And I suddenly understood this hatred.

My throat was still dry, but I forced some words out.

"Your hand," I reminded her, hoping to earn some form of her trust. There was a napkin still unaffected by the spill, so I picked it up and placed it lightly on her gentle hand. She recoiled at my touch and tried to pull away. I kept to my task, though, even after I felt her angry gaze on our conjoined hands. I couldn't keep much of a running thought in my head; it was like her entire being was suffocating me. It took an adsorbent amount of energy just to keep wrapping her hand in the cloth and breathing.

The mists of my created world, however, could only last so long. I heard the footsteps of people crowding about, and I knew we must have been drawing an audience.

Wiphshun's voice broke out, followed by Maecenas's. I forced my hand to let go of the girl's and my consciousness to return to reality.

"What's going on here?" Wiphshun asked, obviously standing right before me. I tilted my head up to look at him, but not before I stole one last glance at the angel.

Her eyes were clouded over with a barely recognizable fear, but she was able to hide it behind a strong façade of determination.

Strength to the last.

"Your … thing hit me and caused that muddle on the floor," the Duchess said from her spot behind me.

Was she there all this time? How long has it been, anyway? I wondered.

"It was an accident, Governor," I told him. "No harm done." I stood up, and then offered my hand out to the girl. My actions perplexed her even more this time than before, but she took the help up, anyway.

"My dress," the Duchess sobbed angrily, reminding us all of the 'spot.' I wanted to smack the stupid woman right then and there for her incessant complaining, but I kept my annoyance in check. The poor girl, now standing beside me, seemed to shrink even smaller than her already tiny form.

I sighed deeply and returned back to the Duchess. I could only charm vulnerable, rich, old women to a certain extent, but I had a feeling that I could win the Duchess over now.

"Let's not bother with such a childish prank, Milady," I told her, trying to swoon her with every type of chivalry known to man. "If I remember correctly, we were to dance?" I offered up my best, most faked smile and reached out a hand.

The Duchess forgot all about the slave girl and gave me her undivided attention. She took my hand and we started to walk off towards the dance floor. I snuck a quick wink at the girl before leaving. She barely reacted to my movements, but I had the feeling she was even more surprised at me than before.

"Come now," I told the rest of the party guests. "This is supposed to be a victory party, we don't need any problems." Wiphshun looked pleased by this idea, so I had the feeling that the girl would probably get off pretty easily.

I gave Maecenas a half-shrug as we walked past. He didn't really seem upset, probably gladder that I hadn't lost the favor with the Duchess.

The little crowd broke off and continued about their socializing. Maecenas and Wiphshun had a sabacc game going, it appeared, and it seemed the majority of the guests had taken to watching. The Duchess and I made it to the dance floor, and, as the music started, I slowly turned to get one last look at the slave girl … the angel.

She was back down on her knees, and cleaning up the remainder of the glass, this time with the help of another servant. Tears graced her soft face as she worked, and she didn't bother to swat at them. I couldn't tell whether they were in grief or relief, but I had the feeling that it was both.

The Duchess buried her face in my chest, allowing me to stare at the girl a few moments longer. A wrath of emotions filled me as I watched her, none of which I could make any order out of. She should have just stirred my pity or my understanding, my sympathy, but it was so much more than that. Something about the way she moved, the way she spoke, the way she acted, something that was there and really wasn't at the same time. She stirred my very soul.

But, before I could think on it anymore, another dancing couple blocked my view, ending my last connection to the angel.

I returned my attention to the dance and back to the Duchess, only hoping against all hope that I would somehow manage to see the slave girl again.