Private Curious State of Affairs

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Quinn Varanin | Darth Malum of House Marr
Location: Palace on Jutrand [Empress Quarters]
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The rather revolutionary palace that existed on Jutrand was a veritable fortress in the wake of warring factions. Security was tighter than it had ever been, not only, because it housed the Sith Emperor but because it was a frequent waystation for the Dark Council and the Imperial Senate. Only a few elaborate halls were relegated to the royal household. It was by design. In truth…Srina had never required extravagance. It was opulent in the sense of tastefully placed décor that befit those who lived there—But that was it.

There weren't piles of credits, gold bars, or coaxium, stashed in corners. There was no need to flaunt wealth in the faces of civilians, staff, and soldiers who may or may not have lost their livelihood in the previous wars. It would have been disrespectful at the very least. This gave the personal quarters of the Empress a rather sterile atmosphere. There was no sense of her person. No well-loved settees or favorite coverings strewn about.

Jutrand seemed quiet…For once. Bathed in artificial light with busy streets and even busier people flickering here and there for day-to-day activities. The pale woman could be found on a balcony adjacent to her suites with her arms wrapped around what seemed to be a slightly smaller version of herself. The long sleeves of her lunar-gray attire almost hid Quinn Varanin from view while Srina murmured secrets in her ear. The truth of her extended leave.

The heart of why she had spent so long away from court and prying eyes. It was high time that her platinum blonde god-daughter and niece…Knew the truth.

She had cousins.

Quinn was intuitive and oft reminded Srina of herself from days that had long since slipped through her fingers. She held on longer than necessary, cold, on the outside. Her expression was frozen with a glacial chill but one of the few, precious gems in her life, would only feel a pleasant warmth. Safety. Perhaps…A touch of annoyance at being doted on so thoroughly—But touch was how Echani communicated best. Within that familial embrace Quinn would find…So many things.

Regret for keeping her in the dark.

Apologies for not taking her to see them.

Pride for the woman Quinn had become.

Love.​

No one, perhaps her parents, would ever love Quinn Varanin as Srina did. She had been one of the only things to brighten the darkest of days when she lost her own child. She was not a replacement…But a reminder that life often found a way. That the moon would guide…Even when she couldn't see it. The visit filled the halls of the Empress' domain with a particular exuberance that was a stark contrast to the shadows that often lingered through Sith politics.

Most wouldn't see it. Echani could. Quinn could read her almost better than Empyrean.

When she eventually pulled away from the Sithling in her arms it was not without fixing beautiful locks of hair that her presence had mussed. It was her only dismay, that Quinn kept it short. It was practical from a combat perspective but culturally…Srina found that she missed it. When her niece was little more than a girl and Srina would visit, if only, to braid it back before she slept. They chatted over this and that and spent plenty of time catching up while awaiting another guest.

Darth Malum of House Marr .

The air was pregnant with a mix of formality and familiar warmth. The inherent grandeur of the palace provided a backdrop for the unfolding drama—A blend of Sith intrigue and the tender affections that the stoic Empress reserved for those closest to her. It was a strange juxtaposition for one who had been likened to a marble statue. She barely seemed to breathe, let alone, be capable of expressing healthy human emotion. There were times when she failed.

It was only with her own people that she could succeed without trying.

As much as Srina anticipated the arrival of the Sith-Made-King she could feel that Quinn was less than enthusiastic. She supposed that it was due to the whispers of his reputation. The danger that he represented since serving beneath the spell of a particularly vile serpent. He would find that staff and soldiers would escort him to her with full decorum in place. It was only the Sepulcher that would give him a hard time—And only because of pedantic morality. Rules.

A male should not be unaccompanied within the chambers of the Empress without an escort. Apparently—Her niece didn't count. The suggestion of a fully armed cadre of men in battle armor seemed to fit the bill but Srina had declined such measures with devastating finality. The warning in golden eyes would keep the Eternalists in line but the priests would certainly complain to her husband for her audacity. She internally scoffed…

The Dread Queen did not need the Sepulchral to protect her or her virtue.

That would be…The coldest day in hell.

"Patience, winimo." (Little-One)

Srina brushed a lock of cropped hair behind the ear of her god-daughter. Her voice was no more than a whisper but Quinn would hear it as easily as the soft classical music that played in the background. "He'll be here soon enough…And you never know. You may find his presence intriguing. He is a man of many tales and experiences…"

"I've invited him specifically for that reason."

Not so long ago she had suggested that he be given time to prove himself rather than lose his head. She had also placed herself in a position to take responsibility for his actions if he failed to impress. This led to her continued interest in his activities, both large and small. Sithlings like her niece, like their soon-to-be guest, would be what would build a stronger nation. Not the squabbling nobility that had long ago lost the plot in avarice-driven inferiority.

"…Perhaps he will tell us a story."

It wasn't long after that when the twin doors to her private balcony were opened and announcements were made. Srina…Would never be used to that. Her comfort zone was in warfare. Not political dances that required her to see through with social graces. The space that Malum would find himself welcomed into was an expression of architectural grace. Crafted from obsidian-black stone and offering a breathtaking panorama of Jutrand itself. A balustrade of polished onyx-colored marble traced the perimeter and blue roses, of Eshan, crawled up the pillars and through wrought iron archways.

There were several places to sit. Benches chairs, and soft round black pillows that were meant for meditation. There was a table laden with tea and her preferred canapés, plus, the softest scent of incense on the wind. Jasmine and rain, regardless, the roses. It was the breath of power that she let settle over her quarters while she relaxed with her god-child.

"Forgive the intrusion Lady Talon…We announce Malum of House Marr."​

Srina nodded her head, lightly and her arms came to cross beneath her bust. Could the domestic staff be any more predictable? They anticipated the needs of a debutant not that of a woman who could serve them their own tongues to satiate her own amusement. "..Well. Do not keep him waiting. Send him in."

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Srina Talon //: Darth Malum of House Marr //:​

It would be a lie if Quinn claimed to have never seen the security surrounding the palace on Jutrand. Growing up the daughter of two of the most powerful force users in the known galaxy at their time made her privy to such sights. With each individual she met, the young Echani memorized their faces and their touch as they did their check. As an Echani, Quinn was sensitive to discerning intent with the lightest touch. Even beyond her Echani heritage, the young Princess was heavily trained, and it was burned into her mind to suspect everyone.

Quinn tolerated the security measures because it meant she could indulge in the woman's affection. Srina had become a source of love for the Princess. To the older woman, Quinn was precious and adored. Two feelings that she rarely felt with her parents. Her mother would dote on her, but Noelle had proven herself worthy and capable of ruling Eshan. Quinn was forgotten. Noelle and Spencer had more in common than the younger twin. They both were elegant and poise with a presence in a room, while Quinn was quick to temper and just as stubborn. Growing up, she was often the one who was punished for misbehavior, which only fueled the desire to prove herself worthy of the one thing. It was an emotion she chased, only to have it slip through her fingers every time.

Love. ​

Srina had disappeared from the Princess' life at such a crucial point. She had lost Alina, and Vesta decided to make her own destiny. Both women Quinn tried to hold onto, possibly too tightly. Losing them both and not having the only one she could depend on took a toll on the girl. Things were changing for the better; she had learned to stand on her own two feet over the years. Alina and Srina had returned to her life, and Quinn began feeling whole again.

The embrace was warm and full of the love Quinn craved. She tried her hardest to hide the failures of her famous parents from Srina. Fingers played with the small locket around her neck while Srina explained why she disappeared.

Quinn was quiet, her reaction blank for the first few moments. She was happy; she knew that in her heart. With everything that had happened with Eshan and to both their families, the thought of a new life warmed her. But something more wormed itself into her heart. Jealousy. She hated sharing, and Srina was now to be shared with her cousins. For the longest, Quinn had her godmother to herself. She was the one person that Quinn could be selfish with. Her jealousy faded momentarily as she was again being doted upon; Quinn felt special and loved again. There was a reassurance in the woman's touch, her intent and love. Everything would be okay, and she wouldn't be forgotten or alone.

This was a comfort only Srina could bring her. The Empress' light touch among the strands of the young royal's hair made her smile. She knew the woman missed the long trusses she and her twin had when they were younger. Their mother adored their platinum blonde hair, the way it shimmered in the sun and glowed under the blessed moon. Quinn missed having the length of her hair, but this was the only way to be different. Being different and an individual was so crucial to the young Echani that she did everything possible to be the opposite of her twin. "One day, auntie, I promise." she quietly spoke, adding reassurance with her touch as it caressed the back of the matron's hand.

One day, she would be someone alone and not just the youngest daughter of Ashin and Spencer Varanin. Her own name would bear weight when spoken.

The topic of another joining them was introduced through pleasantries and catching up. The thought of her precious time with her godmother being interrupted by another made the Princess frown. She had heard very little of this boy. Yet, he had caused waves of anticipation and nerves with the guards around them. Quinn looked to the security and raised an eyebrow. The guards bled their emotions through the Force, which only made the young woman stiffen. Arms crossed against her chest tightly. Quinn knew there was no reason to hide her feelings, knowing that Srina would know and read them faster than any empath.

Quinn's attention was summoned with the pet name, arms falling from her chest on command. Even if the guards were nervous, the woman beside her was an anchor. Once more, the touch provided reassurance, and Quinn relaxed, almost leaning into the touch.

"Intriguing?" Quinn questioned a hint of disgust in her voice. She hadn't wanted to meet anyone other than Srina, especially some man. Quinn listened and did her best to keep some sense of composure. She was a princess, and even if she had no desire to entertain the idea of this creature vying for her attention and daresay her affection - he couldn't know. "Is he old? Only old men have tales and experiences." She smirked smugly as she leaned into her seat and looked at her godmother, "I do not care for tales of how he can barely win a duel against a target droid." The girl shrugged, and before she continued, someone interrupted them. It was the moment of truth where she would face this 'man of many tales and experiences.'

"I swear, he better be entertaining - I don't care for jesters that fail at doing what they're supposed to be good at." The moment Malum would enter the room with the two women, the Echani Princess would raise a brow - almost impressed.

Quinn mused for a moment, then a glint of devilish enthusiasm. Leaning towards Srina, she whispered, 'Maybe you're right, godmother.' She knew if he couldn't entertain with a good story - he could be enjoyable and probably not how he would like to be.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He'd met her twice now, the first, in far from pleasant circumstances, and the second, in with underhanded roguery, so to simply be given a direct invitation for the third… was strange.

Such were the thoughts of Darth Malum, newly enshrined Knight of the Sith Order, as he walked, feeling as if a prisoner without the chains and shackles, as he was escorted in a diamond formation. He supposed he should not entirely feel like that, he still held both lightsabers at his side, and if he really wanted to, he could cut down all members of the escort and flee, without a single thing to stop him.

But it would be rather foolish to do that, wouldn’t it?

Rather rude too, to have the Empress herself invite you for an audience, and to leave without explanation. Though when he had received the invitation, that was what every part of his body had wanted him to do. This was a trap, there was no two ways about that. Malum was part of the very organisation that attempted to assassinate her husband, even assassinate her if they had the chance.

And now, he was summoned directly into the monster's maw. Not just upon Jutrand, which he, in his weakness had been visiting far too often, so confident he was in his ability to stay hidden.

But, to her Palace itself.

Well suffice it to say, there was no opportunity to stay hidden.

An assassin who everyone knew exactly they were, was a rather lousy assassin and one simple to deal with.

As he had received the summons, he knew that despite the trap that would be pulled up from under him, there was no way to refuse. Their alliance, if something so one-sided could be called that, was held together by a thread of... well he could not quite say, it was not as if he was loyal to them, nor they loyal to him, it was not as if he trusted them, as they did not trust him.

It was held together by something, certainly, and he had very little inclination to tempt the fates by refusing such an invitation, especially when the dawn of their shared enterprise would soon finally be fulfilled upon the darkened planet of Fiviune.

So that was why he had come, and admittedly it had not gone poorly so far. Sure, he had been given reproachful looks by the assumed members of the staff, and of course, what exuded out of the masked guards could only be called coldness, but as mentioned before, he had been allowed to keep his weapons, something which he viewed as a show of trust... but in reality, may have been in itself some sort of power move. After all, what fear did the former Exarch of the Confederacy of Independent Systems need of a Sith Knight, assassin or not?

He tried to take that as a compliment, as he was marched through... well, the black stone and the onyx marble were no doubt intimidating in their own way, but it was just as beautiful in another. Such a flagrant display of wealth and authority clearly made its impact.

Or well, at least to him.

Still, he had the vaguest idea that it was not exactly to anyone's benefit, but the Empresses'. The woman was... well to put it aptly, strange. Perhaps the strangest part was that he could not exactly place what exactly was strange regarding the older, but no less ethereally beautiful woman.

It was simply as if... her mind existed beyond him.

When she looked at him, it was as if she was looking past him, beyond him.

Malum could say with a perfect attestation that he both feared what she saw and was so utterly curious.

Maybe, in the end, that was why he had accepted the invitation.

So it was, that he reached two impressive doors, which by the sudden halt of his wardens, was no doubt the destination for his execution.

He also heard his name announced by the herald, muffled as it was through the barrier. Thus, he would face his destiny, whatever it would be.

Yet, stepping forth into the suite, he would be sorely disappointed if he wanted answers. Instead, he would only find questions... embarrassing questions in fact.

Why exactly... was he standing in what seemed to be the private chambers of the Empress? His cheeks flushed, dusted with pink.

So it was of course within that moment, that another series of questions seized upon him, as he gazed forth, and found his query. The Empress was not a particularly tall individual, despite her immense ability to bring him pause, even to intimidate him into silence, she did not do so through her height. She could downright be called short in fact, though Malum in the interests of both politeness... and self-preservation, would not even imagine bringing that up.

However, it did make the presence of the third figure on the balcony all the more pointed. Though taller still than the Empress, she was shorter than him.

In the end, though the matter of height meant little, indeed he had only noticed for another reason entirely.

The two women were close. Extremely close.

A friend? No, even for a close friend, such closeness may have raised questions.

Kin then? The Tsis'Kaar knew that the infamous Srina Talon had siblings, younger siblings too, an important distinction to draw, for though the Empress held a certain ageless quality to her, the stranger was still no doubt younger. Beautiful in her own way, the shorter hair charming, her skin seeming to glow, her green-hazel eyes... staring at him in a way which gave him immediate pause.

Not a sibling, he decided. Though having little idea where Srina Talon's siblings were, he could at least confidently say if one had appeared upon Jutrand, the Tsis'Kaar would have been amongst the first to know.

So the next possibility.

One which almost at its conception shattered the previous.

Could it be possible for the Empress to have a secret adult daughter?

The girl's eyes were not the same as the Empresses' nor were they of the Emperor's... which was extremely damning, was it not? A bastard then? Or perhaps just some child of a previous match? Maybe even just an adoption...

No, none of them could work. They held some similarity, for certain, but not a similarity one would see between a mother and a daughter.

While for adoption... how could the Empress hide their child from the Tsis'Kaar for so long?

And why reveal it to him now?

So the questions and theories swirled around his mind, as he took the knee, breaking off eye contact with the beautiful, if perplexing stranger, and staring steadfastly upon the ground.

"Malum of House Marr, at your service, your Imperial Majesty." Malum intoned, his voice bouncing off from the walls, or otherwise being carried off by the wind to the bustling Jutrand outside.

Quinn Varanin

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Quinn Varanin | Darth Malum of House Marr
Location: Palace on Jutrand [Empress Quarters]
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Quinn had grown in her absence.

It was a bittersweet notion to accept but Srina could only note the subtle changes with a discerning eye. As much as she had missed her niece she had never once doubted her strength, her fire, that every Daughter of Eshan seemed to have been born with. It was inextinguishable even beneath the direst of circumstances. They held a defiance that few would appreciate. They branched out from the copies that they had been drawn from and made their own way. For the moment…Srina was willing to take these variations of her god-child in stride. Her jealousy…

The elder woman couldn't help but feel it.

How could she chastise Quinn for an emotion that she had oft felt when it came to Empyrean. The wintry woman was always fighting for her husband. Something—That should have been unequivocally and irrevocably hers…But the Sith Order required that she share. The Worm required that she share. She would not sully the quiet moment with Quinn to perpetuate a lie. Instead, she continued to smooth down snowy locks of hair that no longer needed it. As if each falling strand was more precious than the last. Srina had never held such a closeness with her twin.

She wasn't entirely sure why that was…Only…That Quinn had needed her. Noelle, had not.

"You are irreplaceable and your cousins will love you as I do. They do not take from you…But add to you. Add to us. We will make each other strong."

Whole.
​

It was what family, primarily, were for on Eshan. Not for marrying to the highest bidder but for forming a Clan that could defend, protect, and support itself. To become a people that filled in the gaps with their differences and made a unique, perfect, whole. Quinn would learn one day that whomever her parents were…It mattered not. She was a Princess of Eshan whereas Srina Talon came from nothing. Her family held a certain privilege because of their connections, war efforts, and loyalty to the Six Sisters…But Srina had common blood.

Her children had common blood and that of a man that had once been a slave to an Empire.

Greatness was not born.

It was made.

One day Quinn would finish carving a path that was well-paved, unique, and all her own. Quiet gold-hewn eyes watched the young royal take a seat at the table that had been provided. The urge to reach for her again, to soothe her, was always there. It was what she had done thoughtlessly since she'd been barely old enough to walk toward her. The memory of unsteady legs and slightly chubby cheeks caused her lips to twitch but she spoke not of it. These were precious things that Quinn…would not enjoy. Especially, not when they had a guest set to arrive imminently.

Srina could feel it as the Sithling drew near. The guards, the whispers in the Force—Betrayed their anticipations and concerns. "Your skepticism is both…Wise and amusing.", Srina intoned gently, though, her voice lacked any sort of indicator that she felt one way or another about the flippant assessment. She had been raised, in the most literal sense, as a child soldier. Echani were raised to fight from the cradle to the grave…And her mother had been unrelenting. It had been pressed into her from before her lips could form words—To think. Never feel.

To be a glacial force so strong that even the brightest sunlight fell away. The small attempts that Srina made toward expressing herself were actually…Progress. A decade ago, would have found her solving all manner of issues with a sword and a bit of rope. People tended to listen much more adeptly when they were strung to the ceiling and nailed to the wall with the threat of bloodily losing limbs. It was an inelegant time for the Dread Queen. But, it was intensely effective.

"The accumulation of tales and experiences may hold a modicum of importance but they will hold little sway if they lack substance. Old or young…Age matters not. What is essential is the resonance of his presence."

It was a very elaborate way of explaining to her niece that Malum of Marr should be judged on the authenticity of his character. Not, by supposition. Srina had her reasons for inviting the young man to her versus meeting him in a public and official venue. When Quinn gave a barely audible whisper in her direction before the arrival of Malum the silvery woman replied rather deadpan with the truth. As if it was the most known thing in the world. "…I always am.", The sun was hot, water was wet, Srina Talon was right. Simple.

As Darth Malum of House Marr was ushered past the wrought iron doors of the balcony Srina turned away from the view of Jutrand and perceptive eyes took him in. The room seemed to cool by degrees but it was only the effect of the unknown meeting the immovable. Srina straightened and lengths of satin ivory hair turned with her when she moved, as if, it were a cape made of starlight. She could see his mind turning. The wheels moving while he tried to discern both his presence here and the young woman at her side that looked so much like her. "Be at ease…", Srina commanded of the escorts that had brought Malum to the meeting place. "Leave us…I will call if it is required."

Once the guards backed out and departed in unison, she let her hand fall to Quinn's shoulder while she sought to explain their particular level of heightened awareness. "Our guest is of the Tsis'Kaar whom many Eternalists have viewed as an enemy state. This association and…", she trailed off softly and lifted her chin back toward the dark-haired man in such a way that was almost kind. There was an understanding that…Seemed out of place. "Your duty therein causes them distress."

She avoided the term assassin as she had a distinct sensation that it would rankle her niece like with the fierceness of a young lioness. "You needn't address me with such formality when my husband is out of earshot. Come forward young one…I will not bite."

A casual wave of her hand caused one of the chairs at the table to pull back while she in turn slipped into the one that was to the left of Quinn and would be across from Malum if he chose to accept her offer. She would not force him. "I bid you to greet someone I would trust with my life. This is Quinn Varanin, Princess of Eshan, my niece and god-daughter."

"Quinn…This is Malum, Heir of House Marr, Knight of the Order. As I told you before…You may speak freely. This is not an…", her gaze flickered, as if, she had lifted the errant thought like a leaf moving through the wind. "Execution. In the eyes of the court, this is simply a respectful response to the summons of your Queen… No one will harm you."

It was an odd statement to make when inviting a guest for what appeared to be hot tea and small treats. And yet…It was a possibility that lay in the air. They were Sith. Her darkness knew no limits when provoked and the very air trembled when her fury finally rose from the depths of her deeper well. She could be every bit as ruthless as Empyrean. The main difference was that she used the deadly might she kept in check through sheer force of will as a scalpel rather than the release of what equated to a nuclear bomb.

The tentative scent of jasmine and rain that always flowed around her was not perfume. It was power in the purest form and saturated, naturally, from her every pore. It would be easy to see why Empyrean had chosen her for his bride and even easier to understand the monumental task it took to hide her Force Signature. Even through clouding. Here…She did not need to hide. "…You look well. Your after-action reports are sufficient but they lack…"

She paused. Briefly, trying to find the word.

"Soul."

Srina reached for the tea-kettle and swept her sleeve back so that she could first pour tea for Quinn, Malum, then herself. It was an act not at all suited to an Empress but it was a custom that as Echani the platinum-haired woman at her side would easily recognize. To treat everyone as equals at the table was a sign of respect. It was a collection of little things that made the Empress…Confusing. She was a paradox wrapped in a mystery, gilded, and completely comfortable in her own skin. Few women were.

"Tell us of your recent travels and endeavors. What news, ambitions, do you hold from your conquests?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

As soon as permission was given, his rubies were back on the intriguing pair, his knees leaving the cold grounds, to take their rightful place, elongated off the ground. There were a rare few which a Marr would willingly bend their knee to, but for those that etiquette demanded, he had learned the methods long ago in the depths of his childhood education. Still, trained and practised in the ways and means of that courtly intrigue, it was a song and dance which brought his knees discomfort every time it was initiated.

After all, there were only a few out there that Malum would willingly bend his knees to.

Th-That, a Marr would willingly bend his knees to. His Adam's apple became a prominent feature as for but a moment, he saw how the newly introduced Quinn Varanin, considered him. The raised eyebrow, the devilish glint, the enthusiastic whispers into her newly revealed godmother's ear. If a judgement had to be laid on how he felt, it was evident on his face, for such an interaction had resulted in a raised eyebrow, a narrowing of his eyes, and the barest of frowns.

Of course, that was all before the meanings of the words spoken to him, hit with the grace of a freight train.

Varanin.

As in... Spencer Varanin?

As in... Ashin Varanin?

They were blindspots in his knowledge, in the realm of existence that was both certainly in the past, but still everpresent. Chaos, he was not even sure if they still lived.

But one would have to be a fool to not know the name of the Sith Empress, the Conqueror of Worlds Innumerable, and her Empress Consort, the Queen of Eshan, a being made of the Force manifest.

They... they... had a daughter?

Of course, of course, they had a daughter. It was not as if Spencer Varanin was still Queen of Eshan. He knew little of the world, apart from the barest of research, and then perhaps some more after he learnt of the Empresses' nativity to the world, but what little he did know had been enough to confidently say that Spencer Varanin did not hold succour there. Yes, yes, there had been something about a daughter, her name eluded him, but he supposed that mattered little now.

Quinn Varanin , the heir of Ashin and Spencer both, left still a question to ponder in his mind.

And perhaps the most that was most important.

Why was the Queen of Eshan here? The plotting mind could not simply believe it was to visit her godmother, while another part of his mind tugged that there was something wrong with his conclusion.

The sound of doors closing behind him, broke Malum out of the stupor of thought and imagination, his peripherals registering the absence of his wardens, far before his ears had heard the Empresses' orders. Though in the end, they were simply guards he supposed, the true warden was the one before him.

And she continued to perplex him. He had to tilt his head, ever slightly towards the side as the Empress faced her goddaughter and niece (that comment alone warranted further investigation, had he been wrong? And this Quinn Varanin not a direct relation of Ashin and Spencer, after all, as far as he knew, neither were sister to the Empress. If they had instead had the child beyond the marital bed... well would she have had the name Varanin? Been made Queen of Eshan? The theory crumbled, as soon as it came, while his mind seemed to groan that it had fallen apart much before, for... something was wrong), speaking to her, Malum was quick to identify her meaning, it would seem the Varanian scion did not know truly, the circumstances which had befallen the Empire, though... was that truly a shock? Why would the Qu- the Quee-... the Queen of Eshan know of what was happening out here, Chaos, he doubted that most in the Galactic Alliance knew. Her meaning became more clear, when she turned to face him, golden eyes meeting red, and conveying an emotion he might have mistaken for kindness if he was a more naive man.

Still, let it not be said he could not play a part well.

Offering what could only be a mix of a wily and nervous smile, only the latter emotion reached his eyes, resisting the temptation of his fingers to scratch the back of his head.

"I am only too glad that they take their duties so seriously and ably, as should all who serve a greater power," It was hard to say those things without cracking his mask, and as soon as he said it, he wanted to slap himself. After all, it was he who served two greater powers, that were not only rapidly about to collide but had already done so. It was with that faux pas, that he abandoned any resistance he might have had to her newest request, or perhaps it was more fair and accurate to call it an order, he stepped forward, with each motion bottling the nerves that already filled him, "As you wish, Your Im-... Empr-" Of course, that brought up the awkward question of what exactly he would call the puzzle that was Srina Talon , to call her by name was certainly false, but she had declined formality, his mouth dried, oh this would be awkward, "As you wish... Lady Talon," An unhappy compromise, that as soon as it left his lips, he felt was somehow wrong, or perhaps that was just her declaration that she would not bite.

Why did that make him feel like she would in fact bite?

The chair was moved in invitation, but he could not say he felt particularly invited, or more accurately, the prospect of sitting in what was a metaphorical electrical chair, was far from an inviting idea. Still, as he walked closer, to insult her, to insult either of them, was far from the cards he had to play.

As he reached the table, he bowed his head towards the royal, his entire torso following suit in a show of respect, as his introduction was given out by the Empress. Others would have likely beamed at such words, there was nothing inherently complimentary, but to simply be noted by the Empress could be considered a boon to some, and in other circumstances, he might have, but right now, with his eyes narrowed, his hands gripping down tightly on the head of the chair proferred for him, it was hard to be loose and lax.

Of course, it was even more difficult when that ever-so-biting word was proclaimed.

Execution.

Even in declaring, guaranteeing, that no such event would take place, he felt his breath grow heavy, his mind instantly switch to concerning survival beyond anything else, a temptation to draw out his lightsabres, cut his losses now and flee.

Of course, he did none of that, as his breathing returned to normalacy, as his vision became unclouded, and as rationality took hold.

If she wanted him dead, there were a million opportunities after he had accepted her invitation. The fact is, even if it confused him, even if he would likely question, and search for the meaning for a long while, it seemed that the Empress had indeed... some reason to keep him alive, whether that was fondness or an advantage he brought to their cause, he was uncertain. They certainly seemed above both those things... though, his eyes turned towards the Que- oh.

His mind snapped at him, and the sudden realisation that again, his overactive imagination had taken hold, struck.

Princess of Eshan.

Not Queen.

The words had transmuted in his mind to be something far greater than reality, and while bringing more questions than answers, it did at least... well he was not certain what it changed. Perhaps his bastard hypothesis held more water... but, could even a bastard be called a princess? Mysteries to research no doubt, but as his mind returned to his initial thoughts, they had seemed certainly above those things, monsters, evil, emotionless. Yet, here was one that seemed to matter... at least to some degree for the Empress.

It proved at least that she was capable of some fondness, he supposed.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess," He simply intoned, he had never been great with strangers, at the best of times, and this could be hardly called favourable times, he took a hand, and laid a chaste kiss upon the knuckle, as was customary, before turning back towards the Empress, and finally taking his seat, "I-... thank you for this privilege, You-, Lady Talon," It was still difficult to break his mind out of the etiquette which was drilled into him, still he did so, he did not think that his host was one to find direct violations of their orders to be amusing, "I shall, endeavour to answer the reasoning of these summons, to the best of my ability." For after all, why exactly he was summoned was still a a mystery, one of many that this day would provide him no doubt.

Thus as he took in the smell of pure power expressed through the scent of jasmine and rain, and witnessed the baffling sight, of the Empress herself serving him tea, the rogue thought that it could be poisoned leaving him as soon it came. After all, it could not be in the tea, for they were all about to partake... and while it could be in the cup, at this point he was... rather sure that he would not die today. Still, a glance down at the amulet around his neck provided some certainty that if he did die today, it would not be by poison.

It was after he took a sip of the hot, but sweet, liquid, that the reasoning for his presence was revealed... or at least he assumed this was the reasoning.

And what a strange one it was.

Soul, and stories of adventure.

It was a strange thing to be asked of by anyone, even stranger that it was asked by the Empress, his gaze glided towards the third member of the table. Was this for her benefit? He could not exactly tell the Princess' age, at best that she was not likely much older or younger than him, but that was not exactly the most useful of intelligence. Unfortunate, as at the very least she was considerably, or noticeably younger, he might have thought it was simply some aunt, and godmother entertaining their prebuscent charge. It would be downright insulting of course that he was brought down for such a task, but it was at least... somewhat understandable if one stretched the definition of the word.

So if not that, what was this? Some test? Some game? Or exactly what she asked?

He could not quite say.

But he had a part to play, and damn if he was not going to at least attempt to provide some answer, offering a smile that held none of the nerves of the last, with eyes that looked all the duller for it, he spoke, "I shall admit, my most recent travels and endeavours have not been the most exciting, work in subterfuge rarely is, I'm afraid," He offered a chuckle, as he racked his mind over anything that might work, "I did recently need to rescue a comrade from Korriban," Oh Ali, Malum very much intended to never let the older man live that one down, "While on the other side of the galaxy, I was invited to the ancient home of the Sangnir," Being invited by one of those Sangnir, who certainly saw herself as queen of that world had been... interesting, especially considering the feelings that Sangnir brought out of him every time he laid eyes on her, "And I suppose, there would be my... taking of Alvaria, a recent Imperial conquest now, but there was little violence I'll admit," There were some, warlords weren't ones to give up power after all, but once you had the power of prophecy upon your side, conquest became... surprisingly unncessary, "I would be willing to speak of any that you would prefer, majesties." He indicated to both sat royals.