Published January 17, 2021

"The Palace"


Let us go early to the vineyards
to see if the vines have budded,
if their blossoms have opened,
and if the pomegranates are in bloom—
there I will give you my love.
The mandrakes send out their fragrance,
and at our door is every delicacy,
both new and old,
that I have stored up for you, my beloved.

~ Song of Songs 7:12-13, New International Version


Rey's first conscious thought was that she was not dead. That was enough to make her gasp in shock and sigh in relief. But it did not do much to clear her confusion. Her head spun with questions: How much time had passed? Where was she, if she was not dead? How had she gotten—wherever this was? The last thing she could remember was him, holding her and trying to comfort her. Then she had blacked out.

As she came to her senses, she was not entirely sure she had been taken to a different location. She felt sunlight and wind, indicating that she was still outdoors, and when she opened her eyes she saw the sky. Had she only dreamed about being taken away from the mountain? But she saw one thing that was different: the sky above her had clouds, far more than in the desert of Jakku; and she was lying on something soft, not the hard stone of the mesa.

She sat up slowly and looked around, and realized she was, indeed, in a new place. She was in a courtyard next to a building, enclosed on three sides by low stone walls with a gated opening. The courtyard was furnished with two divans, a small table with two chairs, and several potted plants here and there. At the center was a splendid fountain carved from stone.

The masked creature was nowhere in sight. Rey was not sure how to feel about that. Had he left her, or was he hiding somewhere?

When she stood and looked over the far wall, she was amazed to see the environment that lay beyond: a vast expanse of water, with sunlight sparkling on the surface, so bright it almost hurt her eyes. There seemed to be more land visible on the horizon, which indicated that the water was not an ocean, but perhaps a lake. Looking down, Rey saw that the gate opened onto stairs that led down to a beach below, and to the left and right, there were trees and bushes. The building behind her seemed to be built into a hillside, with more greenery going up the slope.

Next Rey turned around and looked at the building itself. She had to lean back against the wall to support herself as she looked up in awe. It was even bigger than Maz Kanata's castle, and more beautiful than any temple. The word palace came to Rey's mind, and it seemed the only fitting term. Its design was simple but elegant, with shining gold-colored walls topped with green domed roofs. There were two or three stories—some parts of the building seemed higher than others. It looked both old and new, as though it had been built long ago but perfectly preserved over time.

Rey lowered her gaze back to the courtyard itself. The fountain was the most prominent and beautiful feature. The water in the lowest basin was crystal clear—not at all like the communal troughs in the market—and the streams falling into it glittered in the sunlight. Rey could not resist going up and stretching out her hand toward a stream of falling water. When she felt its coldness, she pulled her hand back in excitement, then laughed at her own childish delight. Not wanting to dirty the water in the basin, she cupped her hands and caught some of the falling water, and lifted it to her face. If she was dreaming or hallucinating, perhaps she could splash herself awake. But no: everything remained as it was, except that her face got wet. She wiped herself with her arms and turned about again, taking everything in.

She noticed that next to the divan where she had awoken, there was a small table laden with a bowl of fruit, a pitcher and a cup, and a piece of paper with writing on it. Though her mouth watered at the sight of food and drink, Rey examined the note first. It was unsigned, but she knew who must have written it.

Dearest Rey: Everything here is yours. The droids will attend to your needs. I will come at nightfall.

Rey needed to sit down to ward off the dizziness that threatened her again. She turned to the food and drink, and decided she ought to regain her strength before she puzzled over the implications of the message.

The fruit was fresher, juicier, and sweeter than any she had ever eaten. The pitcher was full of milk—she could not tell what kind of animal it came from, but it was better than any other milk she had tasted, neither too thin nor too thick, and just creamy enough.

Rey felt her energy return as she ate and drank, basking in the sunlight and watching the streaming water of the fountain. For all this strangeness, it was peaceful here, and it was impossible not to be affected by that calmness.

When her stomach was full and her mind was clear, Rey looked at the note again, pondering each word. It seemed her intended did mean for her to live, and for this to be her—their—home.

All of this—hers. It was hard enough to believe that this was not a dream, that she was awake and present in such a gorgeous place. Was it also possible that she could be in charge of it, rather than a guest or a prisoner? Did she have power here, in a situation where she had expected to be powerless?

The mention of droids piqued her curiosity. She looked at the door that opened onto the courtyard, wondering if they were inside. The door was open, as though inviting her in. Rey approached it slowly, and wondered whether she would be able to step back outside if she went through. Would it close behind her, trapping her inside like a pet in a cage?

Before she could enter, a tall, yellow protocol droid appeared in the threshold and stepped outside. A blue and white astromech droid rolled out behind it.

"Welcome, Mistress," the protocol droid said. "I am C-3PO, and this is my counterpart, R2-D2. We are both at your service."

Rey regarded them warily. "Okay. Um … can you tell me where I am?"

The droids' photoreceptors flickered, and they turned to each other as though gauging each other's internal processing. Finally C-3PO turned to her and said, "I am afraid that information is not in our memory banks."

Rey figured this was either the truth, or what they had been programmed to say. She wondered if they were truly there just to serve her, or if they were also supposed to guard her so she could not leave, or spy on her while their mysterious master was absent. Maybe, if she found some tools, she could rework their programming. But first, she would have to explore this place.

"Can you show me around?" she asked.

"Certainly, Mistress. If you will follow me." C-3PO gestured with his arm and turned around, leading the way in. Rey glanced behind her at the beautiful sunlit day, then turned and entered the palace.

The more self-conscious part of Rey was glad that there were no other people present to see her gaping at everything.

The doors automatically opened before them and closed behind them as they walked from room to room. The halls and rooms were full of furniture and decorations, finer than any crafts Rey had ever seen. There were mosaics in the floors, stained glass in the windows, tapestries and paintings on the walls. Side tables bore statues made from wood, stone, and even water, a form of art Rey had only ever heard of.

Besides the art, she was awed by the size and number of the rooms, as well as the different functions they served, several of which excited her in spite of herself.

There was a dining room, with a large table but only two chairs. Next to it was a kitchen overseen by a culinary droid and filled with every kind of cooking equipment. C-3PO rushed her through the kitchen without letting her look around, since she was not expected to use it herself; but she glimpsed a storeroom and a walk-in refrigerator, both filled with greater amounts and kinds of foodstuffs than could be found in any desert market.

Another room was a gymnasium. The floors were made of a rubbery material, and the walls were padded. There were weights and other exercise equipment, and one wall opened into a closet with a selection of practice weapons. Rey's heart leapt at the sight of several quarterstaffs, the weapon she was most proficient with, but there were also different types of blasters, prop swords of varying shapes and sizes, and other items she did not know how to use.

"Can I try this?" she asked, glancing at the droids while her hand hovered over a wooden staff.

C-3PO cocked his golden head at her. "Why, of course, Mistress. It is yours."

Yours. Aside from her devotees' gifts, Rey had owned very few personal possessions in her life, and had almost never heard anyone affirm her ownership of anything. In Jakku, everyone had to assert their own property rights, either with words or with violence. But as she picked up the staff and felt its weight, and twirled it between her hands, she began to imagine, if not fully believe, that all of this truly was hers.

Another room seemed to be a workshop—but what kind, Rey could not begin to guess. There were tools and machinery, building materials like metal and stone, writing implements, paper, and paint. She could not tell whether the studio was meant for art or industry—perhaps both.

At the top floor of one of the towers, there was a room filled with star charts and astronomical equipment. With the push of a lever, the domed ceiling could retract to allow observation of the sky. Rey wondered if it would look different than she was used to seeing.

The room that delighted her most was the greenhouse, which was filled with the most beautiful plants—a few she recognized, but most of their names were unknown to her. Flowers had been hard to come by on Jakku, and none of them were as healthy or luscious as these. There were also fruit-bearing trees, bushes with berries, and garden plots sprouting roots and vegetables, which Rey guessed were intended for the kitchen droid. She spent a long while walking among the vases, pots, and flower beds, stopping to admire the colors and scents. It was calming to be among living things.

But one room overwhelmed her with excitement: the library. It had a fireplace, a wall of windows, and two walls covered entirely by shelves of books, scrolls, datapads and holocrons. There were cushioned armchairs, a padded bench with pillows under the window, and a desk with writing supplies and a computer screen. Rey did not dare touch anything, but she walked around the perimeter of the room, reading the titles on the spines of the books and the labels attached to each object. A single one of these tomes would have been a coveted treasure in Jakku. Even the sages only had a few worn-out books in their keeping; this collection would have put theirs to shame. One section contained stories and poetry; another had titles promising information about science; another seemed to contain records of history. Rey gasped when she came upon a section of books entirely about the Force.

Looking at the rows of books, Rey felt something similar to times when she was starving and saw someone else eating well. She was greedy for what might be inside these volumes. She had always enjoyed hearing stories, and ever since her powers began to manifest, she had wished for more instruction. Could these volumes give her the guidance she had always lacked? Perhaps, if she was to live here, she could fill her time reading. She left the library with reluctance, hoping, but not quite trusting, that she could return to use it at a later time.

The last room the droids showed her was at the heart of the palace. "This is the master suite, containing bedrooms, a dressing room, and a bathing room," C-3PO said in the same grand manner he had used throughout the tour. The different words confused Rey—who would need different rooms just for sleeping, getting dressed, and bathing?

The innermost room of the suite was the main bedroom. At the center was an enormous bed, with a long, wide mattress, tall bedposts, and flowing indigo curtains that could be pulled around it. There was other furniture too: a sofa, a chest of drawers, a table with two chairs.

Rey went up hesitantly to the bed, and pressed one hand down on the mattress; it was softer than she could have imagined for a bed, and sank easily under her weight. She had a childish idea, wondering how it would feel to jump up and down on the mattress; then she had the sobering thought that it might be prudent to find out, in case there was ever some kind of struggle in this room. She decided to wait until she was alone before testing that.

There were no windows here, but there were doors that led to smaller rooms on each side. Two of these seemed to be small bedrooms, with only enough space for a modestly sized bed, a bureau of drawers, and a rocking chair.

Another door led to what C-3PO called a dressing room. Rey could hardly believe anyone would need an entire room for getting dressed; but she understood better when she saw that it was full of clothes. There were dozens of dresses, tunics, blouses, trousers, skirts, and undergarments—all Rey's size, as far as she could see. There were low shelves with rows and rows of shoes—sandals, boots, slippers—everything from the hardy and practical to the frivolously delicate. Glass cases displayed jewelry and other accessories. There were some articles whose names Rey did not know, whose nature she could only guess at. Even the simplest items were of a better quality than any clothing she had ever worn.

One dress was set apart in a place of honor on a mannequin. It was white, the most impractical color imaginable for a garment. The mannequin had no face, but a white cloth was tied as a blindfold around it, covering where the eyes would be. On the head was a lacy veil with pearl beads woven into the fabric.

There was no mistaking the purpose of this outfit, which made Rey's own attempt at cleaning up and dressing for the occasion seem laughable by comparison.

This was a wedding dress.

Rey leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, fighting back the nervous feeling in her stomach. So it was really happening. She was going to be married—to whom or what, she knew not. All she had to go on was the terrible description the oracle had given, and her brief encounter with the masked stranger on the mountain.

What kind of bizarre situation had she gotten herself into, with terror in one moment and utter bliss in the next?

C-3PO noticed her unusual behavior, but did not understand what caused it. "Are you quite well, Mistress?

"I'm … fine," Rey answered lamely. "Just tired. It's been a long day."

"Of course. Perhaps you wish to rest before dinner. The bathing room is this way is you would like to refresh yourself."

Rey had thought she might wash up in the lake, or in the fresh water of the fountain; but the mention of this room intrigued her.

The room C-3PO led her to had no furniture, and when she stepped inside she realized why: the floor sank into an enormous pool of water, lined with ceramic tiles in every shade of blue and green. C-3PO explained that the roof was retractable, so that one could bathe in the sunshine by keeping it open, or trap heat inside to create a sauna. One corner of the room had mirrors that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. One wall had shelves of small boxes and bottles, each labeled with their contents and what they could do—soaps, lotions, ointments and salves. There were also combs, brushes, sponges, and towels of varying sizes made of an unimaginably soft fabric.

Rey was glad when the droids excused themselves, giving her some privacy. She wondered if it was too trusting of her to undress and relax in the water, when her mysterious husband-to-be might surprise her at any moment; but she decided to risk it, trusting his few words to her.

The water itself felt wonderful. Rey had never been able to immerse herself completely—it had been a luxury when she had enough water to sponge-bathe. She dunked herself again and again, kicking off against the floor of the shallow end. Perhaps, if she lived here now, she could learn how to swim, either in the deep end or in the lake.

Rey hardly knew how to use anything more than ordinary soap, so she chose the simplest one she could find on the shelf. For the first time that she could remember, she managed to get all the sand and dirt off her skin, out of her hair, even out from under her nails. It was like cleansing herself of her past—and she did not know what was left as she came out, feeling fresher and cleaner than she had ever been.

After drying off with a towel and brushing her damp hair, she put on one of the simpler dresses and returned to the master suite. She sat on the sofa to rest, but could not sleep when there was so much to take in and think about.

C-3PO came to summon her when the evening meal was ready, and led her to the dining room. When they arrived, Rey stopped and stared, gaping at the sight that awaited her. There was only one place setting—she would be dining alone—but the table was now laden with dishes, bowls, and pitchers. Even at her friends' weddings, Rey had never seen such rich or plentiful food, especially for just one person. She hardly knew what to try first—she could barely even identify some of the food, though it smelled delicious: some kind of meat in a sauce with vegetables; grains mixed with small fruits; confections that looked sweet enough to make her sick.

"We have a selection of music, if you would like to listen to something while you eat," C-3PO informed her, holding out a datapad.

"Uh—alright." Rey chose something random, and as she sat, music started to play out of R2-D2's speakers. It startled her, not just because she was unused to hearing music—like other forms of art, it had been a rare luxury—but because the quality was so clear, and the melody so beautiful. She did not know enough about musical instruments to identify which ones she was hearing, but the sounds were gentle, soothing, almost inviting. Then it gradually picked up speed; the effect was charming.

Rey usually ate her meals quickly, without giving much notice to taste; but now she savored every bite. Each dish tasted even better than it looked. The serving droids kept offering to refill her glass and her plate, so she hardly needed to ask for anything. After she had eaten her fill, she stayed at the table to digest and listen to the music. R2-D2 went through several songs over the course of the meal, each more beautiful to her ears than the last. When she felt slightly less full, she tried some of the pastries and creams, and a warm, sweet beverage that made her feel cozy.

While the droids cleared the table, Rey went back to the courtyard. She was relieved to find that she was able to step outside once more. She now saw that this side of the villa faced west, providing a spectacular view of the sunset. It could not have been more different from a desert sunset, as the light played on the water and the voluminous clouds. Rey wanted to soak in its beauty while it lasted, but the receding light made her anxious for what—or rather, who—would come at nightfall.

She did not feel as afraid as she had earlier. She had already faced her greatest fear—she felt some accomplishment about that. The fact that she was still alive was a promising sign. The existence of this place, full of more wonders and pleasures than she had ever imagined, gave her hope that her new life might not be so bad, might even be enjoyable. Her new home seemed designed to cater to all possible needs and desires. Only, she did not know whether all these good things were meant to lead up to something wonderful, or make up for something terrible.