"What else would I want from you?"

What did Anakin want from Padme? Everything. He was on fire for her. Watching such hurt and distress build in those beautiful, wide eyes of hers as he belittled her in front of her staff had made him want to die. Force, he'd been beyond cruel… and for what?

Why? Why had he done it?

Because, if he were truly honest with himself, when he saw Padme out there with that scum Varlo, he had almost thrown himself at the man – and not merely because he sensed the frantic distress pouring out of her Force signature, her unwillingness to be that close to the Hedsard heir, no, selfishly, horrifyingly, it had truly awoken the darkness inside of him, the jealous demon which often fuelled his anger. The seed planted and so well nourished by his father. He had wanted to hurt Hedsard because he sensed the other man's desire and all the lecherous wishes he hoped to indulge. Suddenly, the vision of watching Varlo scream and bleed had been oh so tempting…

But for Padme, Anakin had battled the beast back down to the deepest pits of himself. He'd just barely kept control of his seething rage enough to craft a false offer to dance. What better reason to whisk her far away from that pile of filth? What he hadn't expected was to find hope bloom in those beautiful eyes of hers. Excitement. Affection. It had been everything he ever wanted and its reality was the most terrifying sight he ever saw.

If Padme wanted him, how could he ever gather the willpower to resist her? He would drag her into his world of deception and darkness and for what? To watch Vader and his future Empress rule while Anakin led the military. What would be left for her? Her career would be stripped from her, all her work and ambitious potential gone. What would she do with all that passion and drive to help people? He may be a Prince, but all he had to offer was himself and such an offer would pale greatly in comparison.

In that moment, Anakin knew he had to protect her from himself. That he, not Varlo,was the biggest threat Padme faced tonight, so he had struck and, force, the blow had landed brutally.

When he, Sabe and Vader climbed into the transport all Anakin had wanted was to pour out every detail of this disastrous night to his brother from beginning to end. His twin brought him a sense of order, stability and calm no one ever could, not even Padme who riled up chaos within him. The words had risen and crafted themselves on the edge of his tongue more than once as their shuttle tore through the sky-traffic, but Sabe was here too and the very thought of spilling everything before her made the Prince's stomach clench in embarrassment.

How could this be love? It felt more like force-damned insanity.

It didn't matter anymore. After tonight, Anakin doubted Padme would ever wish to be in the same room as him again and that could only be a good thing. Maybe Vader would begin attending the Senate instead, something he knew many Senators not so secretly desired to claim their place in the future Emperor's favour. He could focus on his men and ensuring the Empire remained strong and unshakable. Yes… It would be better to live a separate life from Padme than see that flicker of misguided desire in those eyes whenever she looked at him, tempting him to plunge her into darkness by his side.

Anakin could content himself with watching her impressive speeches over the holo-net and seeing her image captured in the flickers of holo-mags and that would be enough. It had been enough this far, at least. He was long used to living a life of unsated desire. After a long day training his men or sparring with Vader, he would return to his wing of the Imperial palace, climb into the refresher and touch himself, eyes clenched shut as he imagined Padme's creamy legs parting for him alone or the perfect swell of her pert little breasts, or the slick paradise between those legs he spent far too long staring at on the rare days he saw her in pants. Anakin imagined what it would feel like to be inside her, that she wanted him half as desperately as he wanted her. If the fantasy was strong enough, he could almost hear her gasping breaths, her moans of his name, the cries of pleasured bliss he would tear out of her sweet lips… and then, he'd come, his seed splattering against his belly as he writhed, whispering Padme's name over and over until he slumped against the cool glass in exhaustion.

It was pathetic.

The guilt over what he'd said to Padme eat at the Prince even as he tried to convince himself it had been the right thing to do. He knew he'd hurt her tonight, badly. Force, he'd told her he wanted nothing from her! Remembering the coldness he'd forced into his voice it made Anakin wince against the window where his breath fogged the thick glass.

He'd gone too far – the panicked realisation tore through the Prince suddenly. He had to make this right while he still could! "Sabe, has Senator Amidala gotten into her transport yet?" If she was on her way back to the hotel, then he would wait for her by the doorway of her rooms. He would be honest with her, wherever that conversation took them. If Padme knew the truth about his life and his father then at least she would understand why he held himself at a distance. She would see it was for her sake and turn away from him for good. If she requested it, Anakin would get on his hands and knees and plead for forgiveness without reservation if that's what it would take to wash the hurt in her eyes away. If she needed to kick him or throw something, he would take that gladly too.

"Why…?" Vader narrowed his eyes from where he sat comfortably opposite Anakin as a slow smile slowly spread its way across his mouth, "Finally feeling bold enough to speak to her? I can comm ahead and arrange for flowers to be scattered across the bed if – "

"Shut up," he glared at his smirking twin. In the dim light of the ship, Vader's yellow eyes glowed powerfully. The eyes he shared with their father, the apparent Skywalker family trait Anakin had always lacked and severely disappointed the old man. "Sabe, did she leave yet?"

"I'm looking, I'm looking, hold on!" The aide scrolled through the datapad quickly and looked up with a smile. "No, it's still waiting on her arrival. Why? Do you want me to cancel it?"

"Yes," Anakin nodded frantically, "Cancel it and make sure she doesn't leave that party by any means necessary! Hey!" He jammed down on the microphone keypad, opening communication between the back of the cruiser and the driver, "Turn around – we need to get back to the Hedsard estate as quickly as possible!"

"Understood, sir," the man's monotone voice radioed through.

He had to apologise, that was for sure, but he couldn't do it in front of her friends or his brother and Sabe. No this was between him and Padme alone.

Anakin was going to make this right.

It wasn't often Vader came to a party twice. It was rarer to be thrust into a private room by his aide and Imperial guards and instructed to wait until whatever business Anakin had with a pretty Senator was completed. It prickled at him, being commanded by others lesser than himself. As if he wasn't going to be their Emperor before the year came to an end, as if Sabe and the guards knew what was best better than he did, but the dark-haired Prince swallowed such feelings down for now. He only had to endure this for a little longer. His father's rotted heart and lungs had to give out soon. They had to.

At least the room he had been shown to seemed to be a parlour of sorts, very comfortable with exquisite leather sofas and large, golden family crests which hung proudly where it hung against the walls. The Hedsard's pride in their lineage was ostentatious, as every noble family should be, but Vader wondered how long they could cling to such pride with the growing scandals Varlo faced. If Senator Vinnis was a smart man, he would cut out his nephew before the eyes of the public turned on him too. If he did not and the Senator still served when Vader ascended the throne, the remaining days of his career would be few. Such blinded foolishness had no place within his Empire.

That was if Vader allowed Senate to continue its service at all, of course. He hadn't made his final decision on the matter yet…

At the very least, there was a private bar built into the back wall, stocked with the richest substances freely available in core systems. Vader poured a deep glass of whiskey and finished it in one burning shot before pouring another. The sooner this night ended the better as far as he was concerned. Anakin had better charm his Nubian beauty quickly so they could get out of here, though knowing his brother that would be an awkward affair of stammering and half-truths carved to hide his desperate love for the woman.

Vader had always been far more direct when it came to potential paramours. His contact was brief, usually limited to a single night of passion before some palace aide or another escorted her through the staff tunnels and into a pre-paid taxi-cruiser waiting by the doors. There was only ever one woman he had let himself pine for – look how that had turned out…

Never again, he'd sworn it the day he left Mandalore and its Duchess for Obi-wan Kenobi's taking, never again.

Anakin could have a galaxy-shifting love affair so long as it didn't impede on Vader's glorious purpose. If it made his brother happy, then wonderful, he would happily dance at their wedding and toast to the wonders of romance all night long. Just so long as the separation between heart and state remained clear, there was no harm in following one's desires. After all, Vader was the future Emperor. He was the brother who would be forced to seek an advantageous marriage, not Anakin. But he had years of work ahead of him before that particular pursuit would require his attention.

Suddenly, the Prince sensed a presence intimately familiar entering the room, felt her draw closer, warm and affectionate and more than slightly nervous. He closed his eyes as the door opened and then slid shut once more, the mechanical locks sliding into place to seal the party out.

"Satine…" He whispered as the Duchess of Mandalore hovered by the doorway. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but force help him, she was as much a vision as the day they'd met all those years ago. She still carried herself with effortless grace and boundless dignity, just haughty enough for her regal position but not so much as to appear snobbish as so many in attendance tonight did. In another life, Satine may have been the perfect Empress to rule by Vader's side and birth their dynasty.

Obi-wan had to be the happiest man in the galaxy to share such a life with her.

"There were whispers that you had come back," the Duchess smiled warmly, the large shards of opals on her head glimmering in the light as she moved closer. Every step came with a slow, audible click of her heels on the cold flooring. "I wanted to take the opportunity to see you alone, even just for a moment. I do hope you aren't busy conspiring in the shadows as you once were."

Vader gave a quiet chuckle, glancing down at the glass of crystal in his bandaged palm. How well she knew him still. It was a wonder that after all these years, Satine retained such a strong understanding of his mind. His heart began to stir for her once more, longing for all he had long ago given up. "Me, conspire? Never."

Satine covered her mouth with a musical peel of laugher, "I fear that you're lying to me, your highness! I recognise the look from my Korkie's face whenever he's been caught in the midst of mischief." Her slim fingers brushed across her still flat stomach then, "And I fear that will only grow worse when this little one comes along to join his plans."

Yes, the life that could have been his… domestic bliss by her side. Fatherhood. Familial stability… sometimes, in the quieter moments, Vader wondered what a life by her side might have been like. It was a quiet dream he turned to every now and again to escape the crushing reality of his existence.

With a weak smile, Vader remembered how nervous he and Obi-wan had been when the haughty Duchess invited them for a private, informal dinner on the second night of their stay. His campaign to convince her to return Mandalore to Imperial rule had been failing miserably and it had felt like his opportunity to convince Satine to see sense. From then, they'd spent the remainder of the month long stay together, all three of them.

Though, in reality, it had really only been the two of them, Vader and Satine, while Obi-wan tagged along in blissful ignorance. It hadn't taken long for the Prince to find himself tangled in the sheets of the Duchess' bed, ignoring the growing love in his friend's eyes as the days passed.

Love had come fast and intense for Vader. Satine was his every thought. She consumed him, mind, body and soul. The most joyous parts of his days were the peaceful, intimate time they spent alone, wrapped around one another, fucking and talking and kissing until the sun was rising beyond the large windows of her chambers.

It had truly felt as though he might die if he didn't spend the rest of his life with Satine. That's where his quiet proposal had come from, the offer to throw his destiny away and rule by her side instead. He had a brother, after all! Anakin would be just fine reigning over the galaxy without him – it would be fine. His father would have forgiven them eventually. Everything had been perfect. It had been golden and beautiful… until it wasn't.

Until destiny gnawed at his chest even as he held Satine in his arms at night.

The private union had been all planned out. Simple, elegant, only bride and groom in attendance with the holy man to bless their vows and bind them to one another until death took them once more into the embrace of the force. But as it had drawn closer, seeds of doubt within Vader and sprouted and grown beyond what could possibly be ignored. What would his father say? What would he do to them? Sidious was not an understanding man – there would be consequences for Vader's decision. Would he strike Mandalore in retaliation? Would Anakin ever forgive him for thrusting him into the storm of destiny in Vader's place?

The idea of surrendering his birthright became harder and harder to reconcile with himself with each passing day.

The day before the ceremony and three until Obi-wan and Vader were expected to return to Coruscant, he had gone to the Duchess' suite in the palace, torn and confused. For once, his lover's smile was nowhere to be found upon his entry. For the entirety of a private lunch, they were quiet, avoiding each other's gazes. At last, Satine had sighed, bracing herself and took his hand into her own much smaller one.

"My love, there's something you should know." Her voice was sad and reluctant, "Obi-wan came to see me today…"

"What about?" He frowned, "Does he know about us?"

Shaking her head, Satine stroked her thumb over his knuckles gently, "Quite the opposite, I'm afraid. He confessed to having feelings for me, Vader. He asked me to marry him."

That had been difficult to hear, even as she laid a loving kiss to his fingers, hoping to soothe the sting even just slightly. Obi-wan was his friend, Vader's only friend back then. His brotherhood with Anakin aside, the soldier had been one of the few people in the galaxy he'd trusted by his side. The Prince couldn't help a bite of betrayal. It wasn't like Obi-wan not to tell him things like this… then again, it wasn't a difficult thing to fall in love with Satine Kryze.

Clearing his throat, Vader tried to shake off the surprise he felt. "What… what did you tell him?"

Satine's eyes fluttered downward with a wince. "I… Oh, Vader, I'm sorry. I asked for a day or two to think it over… Obi-wan is a wonderful man, I simply couldn't face breaking his heart there and then. It was too difficult. I – I thought that truth about us might be better coming from you. He's your friend after all." Her pale eyes bore pleadingly into his and at that moment, he'd known she'd felt him pulling away from her. From the life they were about to begin together. It hadn't been a conscious choice on his part but Vader had known what he was doing and did nothing to stop himself.

The black-haired Prince had stood then, rounded the table and kissed his Duchess so desperately that it had felt as if he might never breathe again. They clung to one another, praying in their own silent ways for this final day to never end. Dawn would bring pain with its stunning orange rays as it rose across the sky, his pain, her pain or Obi-wan's pain… It would befall one of them no matter what happened tonight.

They made love right there on the table, after he'd swept the plates and glasses to the floor in one fell swoop, and after catching their breath, Satine straddled his waist on one of her plush, cushioned armchairs and rode him until they'd both howled in ecstasy. Vader couldn't remember how many times they taken one another that day, as afternoon became evening and evening became the dreaded night. No surface in her chambers had been spared, not even the hard wooden floor. They'd eaten dinner naked in bed amongst the rumpled sheets and rested nestled together, limbs tangled in an endless twine.

Eventually, Satine lifted her face from his chest and traced two slim fingers over his cheek softly, "How lucky I am to have you, my love, You're the most handsome man I've ever met." He'd chuckled and rolled his eyes at that, even as Satine's soft gaze was a silent worship taking in every last inch of him. "Don't be so sour, Vader… Haven't you ever heard the old adage of 'tall, dark and handsome?"

Despite himself, Vader had laughed softly, leaning down to kiss her warm forehead. He had never particularly thought of himself as handsome though he wasn't blind to his more attractive features. Common opinion seemed to favour Anakin with his bright blue eyes and sun-golden hair, not Vader whose curls were black as night with his father's yellow eyes. He didn't blame them for such opinions, people tended to choose light over darkness.

"You're sweet," he murmured softly, allowing himself to inhale the soothing aroma of Satine's perfume. "Misguided, I think, but sweet."

They'd fallen into deeply comfortable silence then, the kind that might have lulled any other couple to sleep but there were far too many thoughts rushing through their minds. Vader could sense her quiet distress and confusion and despite his own, it wounded him.

"Tell me something," he spoke first though Vader was afraid he already knew the answer. "Are you considering Obi-wan's proposal?" They were supposed to be wed tomorrow evening. But are you really? A voice whispered from inside his head. Will you sacrifice your greatness for her? For love? Despite how he teetered on his answer, how he felt a foot planted firmly on both lifepaths, the very thought of his Satine, his love, his wife with Obi-wan set his body aflame with envy.

He felt her tense against him. The flood of denial he'd hoped to hear did not come. Eventually, she sighed. "I love you, Vader, you know I do."

A non-answer at best.

"He's a good man," he admitted through gritted teeth, "I'm sure he'd make a good husband to you if you wish it. He'll live happily by your side, joyful in your shadow as you rule. Is that what you want Satine? Safety? Security? Because I'm not sure I can give you that." Her very reign existed within controversy, forcing peace upon a riotous people was no easy feat and yet Satine had thrived upon it. Surely, he'd thought, a simple, calm relationship born in mundanity would bore her? Maybe she needed their fire, their shared passion to keep her sane.

"Perhaps," She traced a small circle over Vader's heart, "safety is exactly what I and Mandalore need right now. Someone who can promise to stay."

A spark of anger had awoken inside Vader then at the thought of being the lesser choice, it had been a flair of hurt male ego that ruled his next words. "Then why not accept him? If Obi-wan is the better choice, why spend tonight with me and not him? Why continue this farce, Satine?"

The Duchess sat up, clutching the sheet to her breast as her piercing gaze shone with hurt. "Farce…? I love you! I want nothing more than to be your wife but you're pulling away, Vader. I can't force you to stay, I know that, but I also can't put my system and my people through any instability if I can help it. Think about it, my love, I was hoping you had managed to see beyond the future your father has instilled within you enough to see the life we can build together."

"Satine… I…" He'd begun helplessly but she shook her head.

"I understand how difficult it must be to walk away from something you've been told is your fate all your life, I do." She whispered after a deep, heavy sigh, stroking her fingertips over his chest, "If it would make things easier, we could keep it a secret."

Narrowing his eyes at her, Vader caught Satine's slim wrist in his hand, halting her touch as his eyes narrowed. "Keep what a secret, exactly?"

"Our love," she said as if the answer was simple, "our marriage. I can wait for your father's passing if that's what you need – if it's what the Empire needs to ensure a smooth transition. Vader, I'll wait for you if it means I can keep your heart."

"Satine…" His heart had ached at her words. It was nothing more than a beautiful lie, an offering of a life neither of them could truly live. Maintaining such a relationship, a secret marriage, it could never work. He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, savouring her force essence around him. Distance would tear them apart. Jealousy and agony at their separation would be their undoing. He could never board his ship and leave her behind for an unknown span of time knowing they belonged to each other. No love, however powerful, could survive such a feat.

That night was, even after years had passed, the worst night of Vader's entire life. It felt as though he'd been split into two parts. The man who loved the woman in his arms and the Prince who desired his grand destiny more than anything else. The man within him begged the Prince to relent, tried to convince him that it would be worth it, that the life they would have was all he needed…

In the end, destiny had won.

"I'm sorry…" He murmured, "Satine, I…" The sorrow and remorse must have been plain on Vader's face as the woman he loved, who was supposed to be his wife's own face crumpled in despair. She'd gathered the sheet around her body and stormed into the refresher, locking the door behind her. He sensed the burst of absolute heartbreak she felt, magnifying his own, and he rubbed a hand over his face tiredly before climbing out of bed.

Just like that, it was over.

As he prepared to leave Mandalore the next day, Obi-wan invited Vader to stay another night. His friend told him about the wedding, babbling on about how despite the quickness, he and the Duchess knew what was right. He talked about details, his excitement and great surprise that she'd been so eager.

That wedding which was supposed to be his.

Obi-wan had been disappointed but understanding when Vader claimed his father had summoned him home once more. While he left his friend preparing to be married, he'd returned to Coruscant and gotten drunk instead. In the morning, upon making it back to the palace, Anakin had greeted him with a bright smile and it'd felt like enough.

Now, years on, the only woman Vader had ever loved stood before him, married and pregnant and it pained him. What a life he might have known by her side… What a child they might have had… but he'd chosen another path and regrets were a waste of time. After all, he realised with startling clarity, Satine's love at some point in these years they'd spent apart had lessened in its importance to him until now. His climb to the throne took precedence. Vader wanted to be Emperor. He wanted to leave his mark upon the galaxy. He wanted to live alongside his brother. These things mattered more than his Duchess now.

This realisation was as freeing as it was starkly painful. Sometime along the way, Vader had let Satine go.

For a moment, Vader wondered what Anakin's true feelings on his decisions were. His brother had been quietly and wholeheartedly supportive while keeping his thoughts private even as years passed. He knew his twin enough to understand that he'd deemed himself unworthy of love like Vader had shared with Satine. That was why he wouldn't allow the Nubian Senator to get close. Of course, Vader knew that Anakin truly believed his feelings for Padme Amidala were subtle and perhaps to most beings, they were unnoticeable, but he understood his brother more than even Anakin could know.

That was the difference between the sons of Skywalker, Vader did not require love to sustain him in any form whilst Anakin, despite craving it with his entire being, ran from it as though his life depended upon it.

The cruel influence of their father had shaped them into the men they'd become. Forever hissing that Anakin was weak like their mother, that he was no true heir to him, that he was a constant disappointment. But Sidious had worked Vader harder, proclaiming him to be the true heir to the throne after the brothers had battled and he claimed victory and destiny for himself.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts and bringing himself to the present once more, Vader forced himself to smile. "You and Obi-wan seem happy, Satine. I'm glad to see it."

The Duchess smiled warmly at the thought of her husband. "We are. It's perhaps not the life I envisioned years ago but it is a happy one. I'm not sure what more I could ask for."

"Good," he nodded and meant it. If there was anyone in the galaxy Vader wished to see content, it was his Duchess. Leaning down, the Prince pressed his lips to Satine's warm cheek. He may have let her go but he still carried a great fondness in his heart for her, one he doubted would ever truly fade but the love had long ago lost its edge. "You deserve more joy than there are stars, Duchess. I'm glad he gives that to you."

Laying her palm on his chest, Satine gave Vader one last smile. "Be well, Vader. I hope this life is everything you envisioned."

The former lovers exchanged one final soft smile before the Duchess departed as quietly as she'd come. As Vader watched her leave he felt nothing, no pain, no regret… The galaxy remained steady around him. Time, it seemed, truly healed all wounds.

When the doors slid shut behind Satine, the Prince turned back to the glass of whiskey in his hand and tapped the cool crystal with his fingertip of his wounded palm. Perhaps he owed Anakin thanks for forcing him to come back here, after all.

"My lady," Captain Typho awkwardly shifted on the balls of his feet as he looked down at Padme where she sat on the staircase beside Dorme, "the private cruiser arranged by the royal aide has been outside for fifteen minutes. I fear it will not wait forever."

"Oh, Padme," Dorme's fingers stroked soothingly through her hair as yet another long sigh tumbled out of the Senator's throat. "I hate seeing you like this. I know I've encouraged your feelings for Anakin in the past but…" her words paused with a wince as she and Typho exchanged a worried glance, "as painful as it is, I think it's perhaps time to accept that nothing is going to happen between you. But there are so many men out there who would kill for a single conversation with you! Who needs a spoiled Prince when you can find someone willing to show you affection?"

The pity in her eyes hurt almost as bad as Anakin's harsh words had earlier. "Gods, I'm such an idiot," Padme whimpered into her hands, "I really thought there was a chance…"

"But Padme, think about it, even if something did happen between you two, if it were to get serious, you would be forced to resign from office in the Senate. Could you live with that, really?" Dorme asked.

She supposed that she hadn't ever taken the time to think about what might happen in a scenario where Anakin returned her feelings beyond their coming together. If she wanted to keep her career, they would be forced to live in secret, to lie to everyone around them and steal time from their busy schedules to spend together. It was hardly an ideal way to begin any relationship. It was just so complicated. Her life would undoubtedly be far simpler if she began letting go of her love for Anakin once and for all. She could finally move on with her life and stop comparing any potential love interests to the vision of the Prince she had concocted in her mind. She might even be happy, given enough time.

"I…" Sighing, Padme felt herself slump further, "maybe you're right, Dorme."

"Look, I don't want to hurt you any further," her friend squeezed her hand supportively, "but despite everything Anakin is, all the titles and palaces and wealth, he is a man at the end of the day. I'm sorry, I'd hoped to be proven wrong tonight when he saw you all dressed up but…" She didn't have to repeat what happened, his total indifference still stung greatly. "Men don't tend to hide their feelings for years, eventually, they'll express them in some way or another. Women are strong enough to hide their hearts but men? I really think something would have happened by now if – "

"I understand," Padme muttered miserably, too ashamed to meet either of her friends' gazes.

It ached to admit that Dorme was probably right. Anakin was a man and was bound to act like other men regardless of being a Prince. No, there was no doubting it anymore, especially after the way he'd spoken to her… he felt nothing for her.

Suddenly, the Senator broke down as her heartbreak grew too painful to hold inside any further. She felt her face crumple as a gasping sob fell out of her mouth.

"Aww, no! Padme, please don't cry." Dorme squeezed her hand tightly, "Oh, this was the worst time to talk about this! What was I thinking? I'm so sorry!"

"No," she shook her head, "you're right. I've been deluding myself and its time to accept the truth." She should have grown up and moved past this mess a long time ago. "I need to focus on myself, I think." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "At least until I can get over this."

The first step to freeing herself from the emotional burden of her love of Anakin was to admit and accept he would never feel the same way and let go of the fantasy that he did. Even if the heartbreak felt like it might kill her tonight, she would feel better one day.

"I'll go outside and let the driver know we're coming," Typho looked on uncomfortably, "I think it's best we get you out of here, Senator."

"Yes," Padme nodded, "you're right. It's time to go."

"Excuse me?" All three of them looked up to see a silver protocol droid padding toward the staircase. "I have been sent to retrieve one Senator Padme Amidala?"

"Yes, that's me," Padme wiped her eyes again. "What's going on?"

"Ah. Yes. Wonderful. I have been sent by the royal aide of Prince Anakin Skywalker. He has requested to speak with you in private. He was rather adamant, in fact."

Anakin sent for her? That had been the last thing Padme expected to happen tonight – she'd watched him leave the estate after their awful conversation earlier. So why was he here and sending for her? Had he come all the way back here to apologise? Despite everything, the fool that she was, she felt a flicker of hope come to life in her stomach.

"But that doesn't make any sense," She heard Dorme say, "Anakin said you shouldn't go anywhere alone, if he wanted to talk to you so badly, wouldn't he come down here himself? Or waited for you back in the hotel?"

"I agree," Typho nodded, "I will accompany you, Senator."

Padme rubbed her fingers over her forehead, trying to focus. Tonight had been an exhausting confusion of heights and lows and she was getting a headache from the stress of it. "I'm sure it's fine. He probably just felt guilty about what he said." She stood to her feet and braced herself on the railing for strength, "I'll be alright, don't worry about me."

With a final nod toward the protocol droid, it began to lead the Senator through the sea of people across the ballroom. Deep inside her chest, Padme's heart thundered nervously. They moved into an elevator shaft and up three floors and then along a long, winding hallway. The music from below pulsed faintly through the wooden floorboards against her feet as they walked.

"Excuse me," she called to the droid walking ahead, "why is Anak – his highness all the way up here?"

The droid looked over its shoulder stiffly. "The Prince stressed the importance of privacy for this conversation. He is waiting just ahead." They approached a doorway at the end of the hall and the droid pressed down upon the entranceway button. The door slid open, awaiting Padme's entrance.

Well, this was it… Whatever Anakin had to say, it was time to face the facts once and for all.

The Senator took a deep, steadying breath and stepped inside the darkened room. Immediately, the door slid shut behind her. The chamber the droid had led her to seemed to be a hybrid of an office and bedroom. A large, officious desk sat before the window and a bed larger than her own lay pristine and perfectly made.

Anakin brought her to a bedroom… That hardly seemed appropriate.

Stepping further into the room she looked for any sign of the Prince in question, but the room was silent and still. "Anakin?" She called out, glancing around the darkness as she stepped further inside.

"Well, well," A deep voice from behind made the Senator leap around toward the door with a gasp as her heart leapt up into her tightening throat. "Padme Naberrie… You know how to leave a man wanting." Varlo Hedsard smirked from where he lingered in the doorway.