Private A Princess Shopping Date

[Guinevere Cavello]

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Naboo - Theed : Shopping Outlet District
Wearing: x

The streets of Theed were alive with color and music beneath the Naboo sun, elegant fountains spilling crystal water into marble basins while nobles and travelers alike drifted through the city's bustling promenades. Princess Guinevere Cavello moved among them with practiced grace, though the pair of royal guards lingering near the boutique entrance ensured no one strayed too close.

Inside the lavish fashion house, racks of imported silks and shimmering gowns lined the polished walls while display pedestals showcased the latest footwear from Coruscant and Chandrila. Gwen stood before one such display now, one hand resting thoughtfully against her chin as she admired a pair of knee-high ivory boots trimmed in silver embroidery.

"They're either stunning or absolutely tragic," she declared dramatically, lifting one boot by the heel before glancing toward Princess Lyraen Solari with an amused smile. "And I genuinely can't decide which."

A few paces behind them stood Taza, ever vigilant. The older woman's posture was perfectly straight, hands folded neatly before her, her crisp smile betraying little warmth despite years in Gwen's service. Her sharp eyes scanned every customer who entered the boutique as though personally evaluating them for potential danger.

Gwen ignored the scrutiny with the ease of someone long accustomed to it. Turning back toward Lyraen, she raised the boot slightly higher.

"Well?" she asked. "Tell me honestly before I make a terrible decision."

 

[Lyraen Solari]

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Objective: Shopping excursion
Location: Shopping Outlet District, Theeds, Naboo
Outfit: Blouse and Pants
Tags: Guinevere Cavello

Lyraen did not answer immediately. She stepped closer instead, the soft marble beneath her heels barely whispering her approach, her gaze drifting first to the boot in Gwen’s hand—then, more tellingly, to Gwen herself. A faint smile touched her lips, thoughtful rather than amused, as if she were weighing far more than leather and stitching.

“That,” she said at last, her voice smooth and measured, “depends entirely on whether you intend to be admired… or remembered.” She reached out, lightly taking the boot from Gwen’s hand, turning it just enough for the Naboo sunlight to catch along the silver embroidery. Her fingers traced just above the detailing, not quite touching.

“It’s bold,” she continued, tilting her head slightly. “More Chandrilan than Naboo. It demands attention rather than invites it.” A brief pause, then a softer note slipped in, more personal. “Which is not a flaw. Just… a declaration.”

Lyraen glanced back to Gwen, one brow lifting ever so slightly, the hint of her tomboy candor peeking through her otherwise polished demeanor. “And you’ve never been particularly subtle when you want something.” There was no bite in it—only familiarity.

She handed the boot back, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary before withdrawing. Her free hand slipped casually into the pocket of her trousers, posture relaxing just a fraction as she leaned in closer, lowering her voice enough to keep the moment between them.

“If this is for your future court,” she added, quieter now, “they’ll remember you in those. Whether they approve… is a different question.”

A small, knowing smile followed. Her gaze flicked briefly toward the distant guards—hers and Gwen’s alike—before returning, warmer now, more conspiratorial. “But if this is for you?” she said, softer still, “then they’re perfect.”

A beat passed, then her expression brightened just enough to break the weight of it. “Try them on,” Lyraen added, stepping back with a subtle gesture toward the seating bench. “I reserve the right to revise my judgment once I see you attempt to walk across polished marble without declaring war on your own balance.”

 

[Guinevere Cavello]

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Gwen laughed as the other princess described the boots. Lyraen was right of course, these boots were not subtle at all. She took the boot and walked over to the bench meant for trying it on, but her chaperone Taza cleared her throat loudly and disappointingly. Gwen sighed and put the boot back on the shelf.

"Why don't we find something for you? Surely you need something today."

Lyraen Solari

 

[Lyraen Solari]

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Objective: Shopping excursion
Location: Shopping Outlet District, Theeds, Naboo
Outfit: Blouse and Pants
Tags: Guinevere Cavello

Lyraen’s expression tightened the moment Taza cleared her throat. It wasn’t dramatic—just a subtle downturn at the corner of her mouth, a faint narrowing of her eyes—but it lingered longer than it should have. Her gaze followed Gwen as the boot was returned to its place, the small surrender to expectation landing heavier than the moment deserved.

Her attention drifted, briefly, to the chaperone. Not confrontational. Not even particularly sharp. Just… assessing. Then she exhaled quietly and looked back to Gwen. “I liked those,” she said, almost absently, though the note of disapproval wasn’t for the boots.

A beat passed before she moved, stepping closer to one of the nearby racks, her fingers brushing along a line of fabrics without really seeing them. Silk, chiffon, layered embroidery—beautiful things, all of them, and none of them quite… hers.

“I’m not even sure what I’m meant to like anymore,” Lyraen admitted, softer now. “Or what they expect me to.” There was no bitterness in it, but something uncertain threaded through her tone—something new, still settling. Her marriage was done, sealed and formal, but the shape of it… the expectations wrapped around it… those were still unfolding. Her and Markus Kortu didn’t have much to talk about. They were pawns in games played by their parents. Her hand paused on a garment before slipping away again, leaving it untouched.

“They’ve been perfectly polite,” she added, quieter still, a faint, almost self-aware smile flickering. Since it wasn’t entirely even true, but Lyraen had convinced herself that the coldness wasn’t that bad. “Which somehow makes it worse. I can’t even tell where I’m meant to fit into it all.”

She turned back to Gwen then, letting that uncertainty ease just enough as something lighter returned to her expression—something familiar. “So,” Lyraen said, tilting her head slightly, a small glint of mischief breaking through, “I’m delegating.”

She stepped closer, closing the space between them just a touch, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “You’re choosing.” A pause, then more firmly: “Something fun. Something they would absolutely not expect me to wear.”

Her smile grew just a fraction. “And before your chaperone can object this time.”

 

[Guinevere Cavello]

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Gwen's smile softened almost immediately, though her eyes flicked briefly toward Taza before returning to Lyraen. There was nothing particularly cruel about being told what to wear, what to like, what was expected of you. That was almost the problem. The cages that hurt the most were often built from politeness.

For a moment, she simply watched Lyraen trace her fingers across the fabrics. Beautiful things chosen by other people. Expectations stitched into every seam.

"I'm sorry," Gwen said quietly.

The words came without pity, only understanding.

"That sounds exhausting."

She glanced toward the rack Lyraen had abandoned and then back to her. "Everyone keeps asking what kind of wife you'll be before they've bothered finding out what kind of person you are."

A faint smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as Lyraen made the mistake of giving her authority.

Gwen's eyes immediately brightened.

"Oh, that was a terrible decision."

She turned sharply toward the nearest display, already scanning possibilities.

"If I'm choosing, we're finding the single most scandalous thing in this entire shop."

A pause.

"Well, scandalous within reason. Taza might actually throw me out."


Lyraen Solari

 

[Lyraen Solari]

​

Objective: Shopping excursion
Location: Shopping Outlet District, Theeds, Naboo
Outfit: Blouse and Pants
Tags: Guinevere Cavello

Lyraen's smile softened at Gwen's apology. She understood exactly what Gwen meant. If she had fallen in love naturally somewhere along the way, perhaps all of this would feel different. Perhaps she would have spent years imagining what marriage would be like. Perhaps she would know what came next.

Instead she had arrived on Naboo, married a man she was still learning, moved into a family she barely knew, and somehow become a wife before she'd quite figured out what being Lyraen Solari-Kortu was supposed to mean. "It's strange," she admitted quietly. "I know I'm old enough. Everyone keeps reminding me of that. But I feel like everyone else received instructions that I somehow missed."

A small laugh escaped her. "One day I'm a princess of Kirima. The next I'm on Naboo wondering if I'm supposed to host dinners, produce heirs, attend galas, or just smile at the correct moments."

Fortunately, Gwen chose that moment to announce her intentions. Lyraen blinked. Then she laughed outright. The uncertainty that had been hanging over the conversation seemed to crack apart all at once. "Oh no."

Her hands came together in front of her as though praying for mercy she had no intention of receiving. "Oh, this was a mistake." The words lacked any real conviction.

By the time Gwen mentioned finding the most scandalous thing in the boutique, Lyraen was giggling. Actual giggling. The sort she normally reserved for moments far removed from court obligations and royal expectations. A faint blush even crept into her cheeks.

"The most scandalous thing?" she repeated. Her eyes darted briefly toward Taza before returning to Gwen. "A little scandal might be good."

The admission came softer than intended. Her blush deepened slightly. "Honestly, it might be necessary." A playful smile tugged at her lips.

"I've spent so much time trying to be respectable that I'm beginning to wonder if Markus remembers I'm there." The words were teasing, but there was a grain of truth buried beneath them. She stepped beside Gwen and linked an arm through hers. "So yes," Lyraen declared with newfound determination. "Let's find something outrageous."

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Not enough to cause a diplomatic incident." A beat. "Just enough to make my husband look twice."