The room was quiet. The only sounds were the distant hum of the palace’s ventilation and the whisper of fabric as Liliane shifted beneath the coarse weave of the blanket. Her small quarters were bare, save for the essentials; a cot, a plain chest at the foot of the bed, and a narrow desk tucked against the wall. No decorations. No luxuries.
Except one.
She lay still, staring at the simple photograph held delicately between her fingers. The image was worn, unframed, a little creased from how often she had touched it without meaning to. It was not even a grand portrait, just a candid shot of the Empress Srina Talon, head turned slightly as if something beyond the frame had caught her attention. A moment captured in muted light, where strength and stillness intertwined. Liliane’s ruby eyes softened.
Trust in the Empress.
The words rooted themselves in her mind, a quiet mantra against the gnawing anxieties that had haunted her since the day's training.
Darth Anathemous’ lessons still echoed inside her, about history, about fate, about power yet to be seized. There was exhilaration there, but fear too. Fear of failing. Fear of standing in a world so vast and ruthless without a place to belong.
But when she looked at the photo, the fears ebbed away.
The Empress had chosen a path beyond such doubts. She had shattered fate, risen above the chains that bound lesser souls. She had seen Liliane — truly seen her — when no one else had. If Liliane faltered now, she would be discarding that gift.
No.
She would be strong. She would endure. For Her.
Her breathing slowed. Her body, tense until now, unwound gradually beneath the heavy blanket. The photo remained her anchor, her lodestar in the gathering dark.
A small, fragile smile crept across her lips. The first, perhaps, in all her remembered life. It did not reach her eyes.
The smile was thin, trembling on the edge of something deeper, something raw, fierce, and quietly consuming. A devotion so complete it left no room for anything else.
Liliane closed her eyes, the ghost of the smile still etched on her face, as the cold dark of the palace wrapped itself around her.
