Republic Institute of Media Arts and Sciences. The RIMAS.
Beings all over the Republic marked time to watch the awards holocast every year, presenting the galaxy's most coveted statuettes to the best acting, writing, directing, and other performances in holofilms for the preceding year.
When she had first begun her consulting career on the capitol world, Sereine Lumisol had never dreamed she would receive an invitation to the Rimas. But the documentary company that had produced a full-length feature from the introductory film she had made for the Emancipation Act was up for Best Documentary. They had a block of seats they could issue invitations to, and they had invited not only Sereine, but all the authors of the Emancipation Act, which meant that the Chancellor, Senator Organa, Senator Bel Iblis, and Senator Mothma had received invitations as well. Not to mention the dashing Senator who stood beside her at the mirror at this moment, brushing his unruly sweep of dark gold curls back and treating them with a straightening-and-hold spray.
He kept casting admiring glances in the mirror at her. Unlike the Peace Prize banquet earlier this year, tonight she had an excuse to finally fulfill his longstanding request that she appear at a function in a sexy gown. Split in the front of a skirt that flared at the knees, Sereine's dress folded in ruching around her hips, then opened daringly around the back, exposing her shoulders, her arms, and her right side, in deep violet satin spangled here and there with silver.
Sereine finished with her own long red curls, clipped her hair back on one side, and reached for her earrings.
Sheev Palpatine reached out and stopped her hand in midair. "Ah-ah," he scolded. He hurried across his bedroom and returned holding a black velvet box.
"Close your eyes," he said. In a moment she felt him fumbling around her right ear, and the cold touch of metal and gemstones.
She opened her eyes to see him struggling with a large diamond earring in a pave filigree pattern. She reached up to help him.
"I thought this dress needed something sizable," he said.
"That is so thoughtful of you. When do they go back?" she said, remembering the diamond necklace and earrings he had rented for her for the Galactic Peace Prize banquet.
He kissed her shoulder. "These don't go back," he murmured, sweeping her hair aside. "One only turns thirty-two once, as I recall."
"Sheev!" Sereine could not keep the tenderness out of her voice. He didn't always remember her birthday, and in truth, she hadn't always remembered his, but this was …
"Well, you've certainly given me some memorable moments this year," he said with a soft chuckle. He dropped another kiss on her shoulder and handed her the earring. "I think you'll have to do this."
Sereine wondered exactly which "memorable moments" he meant. Yes, he'd been nominated for the Galactic Peace Prize and appeared on the Coruscanti Tonight Show and practically every holonewscast in the galaxy, but this was also his midterm year.
She had been with him most of this year, doing office hours at home in the Chommell sector, monitoring all his news coverage, eyeing weak spots, searching for inspiration for the reelection campaign she would have to start strategizing in earnest next year. All her travel this year had been with him. She had gotten very comfortably used to sliding into his arms every night, waking up beside him every morning.
Her upcoming six-month reelection campaign trip for Senator Orn Free Taa of Ryloth yawned unpleasantly ahead of her. She was beginning to feel already just how much she would miss this man.
Now she was wondering if he was beginning to realize how much he would miss her.
She anchored the back of the earring and turned into his arms. His mouth took hers hungrily, reminding her why she never applied lip color until they were about to walk out the door for these formals … and promising much more once the event and the afterparties were over.
It had been the most dazzling and exhilarating night of her life. From standing on the red carpet with her four Senators and the Chancellor himself, nearly blinded by the lights and the cheering from excited onlookers, to the two afterparties she attended mostly on Palpatine's arm … to the blindingly famous celebrities they met, to the delicious champagne and amazing food, Sereine Lumisol knew she would never spend another night like that again.
To top all that off, the talent booker from the Tonight Show had cornered her at the afterparty hosted by the Republic's premier fashion journalism outlet. If all went well, she would have a great piece of Palpatine's campaign strategy covered two years in advance, and a very nice surprise for him she was so excited over she could barely keep from telling him now, much too soon.
Palpatine began to kiss her in the speeder on the way home—something he had only ever done once, the one time she had broken it off with him. She turned and slid into his arms, kissing him back, on fire with the blazing of the night, feeling him hard as stone under his velvet slacks, his fingers sliding under her straps. Only …
Her stomach was beginning to cramp.
By the time they reached 500 Republica, a dull and insistent ache settled just under her rib cage, and the pain grew worse by the second. She shifted out of Sheev's arms and turned away, her hand over her belly.
"What—?" he snapped under his breath. She looked up to see a malevolence in his eyes previously unknown to her.
"Sheev, I don't feel well," she said. "I'm sorry."
He drew back, and for an instant she thought she saw his eyes gleam yellow. "You don't feel well?" he spat.
She felt a little better if she folded in half a bit and leaned forward. "I don't," she managed. "Maybe it's something I ate," she said, thanking the stars it was the last day of the week and neither of them had to work for two days.
"How much did you drink?" he rasped, and she realized suddenly that this would be the first time she had ever turned him down for sex. She had put him off and slowed him down a bit before, but she had never, ever said no.
She would have to tonight, she thought, realizing as the speeder docked outside his door that she was certain to soon lose everything she had eaten and drank tonight, and perhaps this morning and last night as well.
She put her hand on the strut and struggled to get up. "It's not that," she said. "I only had a glass and a half of champagne. Sheev, I feel like I've eaten something bad." He pushed past her and got out, and the speeder driver delayed taking off, because Sereine had to lean on the side of the craft, steadying herself with both hands.
"Sereine, do let go and let the man take off." Sheev's voice dropped low and taut, a tone Sereine had not heard from him in a long while. She braced herself with one hand and offered him the other, feeling too nauseous to even turn around. Her hand clawed the air, and finally she turned her head to find him with his arms crossed, glaring at her with a sneer.
At last he took her hand and pulled her roughly to him. Pain shot across her roiling stomach and she gripped his waist to steady herself, only to have him shake her off him. Contempt seemed to transmit itself along his arm directly into hers, how, she did not know.
Suddenly, her heart hurt her as badly as her stomach. "Sheev, I'm sorry," she said, folding forwards, her arm over her stomach.
He stood there scowling at her in the dark, then finally he offered her his arm and slowed to her halting steps as he guided her indoors.
She hung her head over his fresher sink, finding herself beginning to drool uncontrollably. Her head hurt now, too, as she looked up and saw him over her shoulder in the mirror, his face hard, his eyes glittering coldly like the diamonds in her ears, even as she could still feel the softness of his lips on her shoulder.
Why? Because she had gotten sick?
The pain was such that she prayed she would just go ahead and vomit. and yet she couldn't. It took her to her knees over the bowl. She hung there and waited, panting.
At last it came in great involuntary spasms that wracked her over and over. When her vision cleared, she thought, At least he'll know I really am sick.
She glanced behind her to find him gone.