“Chit,” she swore. Rust colored light from the early afternoon sun illuminated the living room of her penthouse apartment, floating particles of dust transformed to torch moths as they gently danced through the rays.
“What?” Came a voice from her couch. The speaker unseen from her vantage. She ignored the question and furiously began going through her datapad.
“What?” The voice asked louder. She ignored it harder. Her brow furrowed as her datapad provided no help at all, she brushed a fallen lock of brown hair from her eye.
“What?!” The voice now practically yelled. She swiveled and found herself staring into the sparkling sapphire eyes of Jaa Ardan who had finally chosen to make himself seen on the couch he’d used as a bed the night previous.
He was naked to the waist and barefoot, his dark brown hair was a tangle, matted on the left side, and his admittedly handsome face covered by a beard he’d allowed to grow unruly.
“What?” He repeated. His shirt was folded neatly and placed on a footrest, his boots tucked neatly underneath and out of the way.
“Keela’s had an emergency and can’t watch the children. I have to skip the regent’s dinner.” She told him, far too much disappointment being allowed to slip into her words. It was too simple a thing to grow familiar with him again in spite of her best efforts.
“I’ll watch them,” he said casually.
“You?” She asked.
“And why not?” There was a fire in his voice though he tried to hide it and keep up with his costume of nonchalance.
“How long of a list would you like?” She asked pouring water on his fire.
“Come on, Blaire! You trust that…” he trailed off before saying something presumably unkind about the woman who has been helping Blaire take care of three children on her own.
“I know her,” Blaire said simply.
“You know me,” he argued.
“Yes, sadly.” She said under her breath, but doubtlessly loud enough for him to hear.
“Seriously?”
That mayhaps have been unkind of her.
“Jaa, they’ve been alive for nearly a year, and this is the first time you’ve been in the same room as them. Where have you been?”
He looked at her. She was very familiar with this look. He was weighing his choices. He would choose wrong, she knew, but the fact that he even considered making the correct choice was admirable growth for Jaa Ardan.
“What about you?” He asked, accusing.
“What about me?” Her tone was colder than Hoth.
“Aurelian Veruna,” he said the name like that was all the evidence he needed. Case fething closed.
“Aurelian Veruna?” She asked, simply dumbfounded.
“I saw the two of you at that whatever garden party thing.”
“And what business of it is yours?” Her every word dripped with venom.
“It’s not. I’m just saying we both have parts of our lives we keep separate from each other,”
“Parts, Jaa! Parts! You’re whole life is a fucking mystery and you know not one I’m particularly keen to solve either.”
“Then what’s the fucking problem?!” He shouted.
“The problem is you're practically a stranger and you’re asking me to trust you with my children!”
“They’re my children too! I’m their father!”
“My. Children.” It was barely more than a whisper; her voice was laced with threat and challenge both.
“Where are you going?” He demanded as she stood, heedless of the thin ice he surely knew he danced across now.
“I need to get ready if I hope not to be embarrassingly late,” she told him.
Jaa Ardan opened his mouth as if to say more, thought better of it, and lay back down.
Blaire stalked barefoot down the hall, all the while spent in a ceaseless and seemingly fruitless and vain attempt at convincing herself she had chosen the correct course. Certainly, Jaa was capable; that was not the question in truth. No, the issue with which she grappled now was whether she was to attend this dinner because she trusted Jaa Ardan or had she chosen to trust Jaa Ardan because she wished to attend this dinner
Near on a year, and she’d still fully yet to unpack. Blaire fought past a stack of unopened boxes. They were full of shoes?…or…hats?…gloves, maybe? –Shiraya help her.
She fought past unopened boxes, half opened boxes, a rack quarter full of very lovely dresses and reached the place her bed should be. She searched amongst the piles of clothes she’d tossed there and hadn’t yet found the time to put away. Not once had she slept in the bed that was rightly hers, instead finding it easier to sleep in the guest bed, her own having transformed into a staging area for the clothes of hers that would not fit in the closet or she was just too lazy to do anything about.
Maybe it’s time to move to the estate.
There would be room, staff, and ease of her burdens.
Blaire was in need of the comfort of the Sal-Soren estate far more than she would admit but it was not only her pride that caused her hesitation.
What of Bast?
Bastila deserved her own space, didn’t she? How would it be for Blaire to invade that place three children in tow?
It would in truth be far above nice to be around Bastila more. They’d been close once, the two Sal-Soren siblings who had remained on Naboo. Brandyn and Briana left and Blaire’d only had baby Bast. Everything changed after Naboo burned and they all thought Daddy dead, Bastila was left comatose; their lives had been separate ever since.
That needed to be remedied one way or another.
Once the bed had been thoroughly searched Blaire fought her way to the closet. As she approached she could not help but picture the closet as the mouth of some hungry creature, eaten and over stuffed, so full it would hardly close, empty boxes strewn around it like carcasses.
She’d known the dress she was looking for before ever entering the room. She’d known it from the moment she read her invitation. The brilliant white silk flowed through her fingers as soft as whisper.
Modesty is not on the menu tonight it seems, she thought admiring herself in a full length mirror she had freed from under a comforter.
Modesty, however, was for those who could not afford scandal. She was a Sal-Soren. She could afford anything.
Perhaps her family had scandal enough without her adding to it, however.
And yet what was she to do, hide from it? In the past perhaps. That would no longer do for it. The longer she allowed them to whisper about the auction or her father or her sister or any of the rest, the harder it would be to make them forget. The only thing to do was give them something new to talk about.
If anyone thought she would be run off by the idiocy of Jaa Ardan, did not know Blaire Sal-Soren. Sal-Sorens, after all, are nothing if not persistent. Yes, It could also be said they were stubborn, hardheaded, uncompromising, intractable even, but also persistent.
The coastal estate was the place to be it seemed. Aurelian had truly gathered a who’s who of the top players on Naboo, and from elsewhere it would seem. Blaire knew a handful of people by sight but most were strangers.
Not for long.
Her heels clicked sharply on the cold stone floor. The eyes of the more shameless nobility followed her as she moved through the room toward the table where it appeared things were close to being underway.
She soared soft smiles and small waves for
Aiden Porte
and
John Locke
each as she crossed the room, without the time to stop and chat.
Aurelian sat at the head of the table.
King already it seems
Viz’s little brother was at his right, Loria next to him. That caused Blaire to smile. On Prince Veruna’s left…
Surely not.
“Bastilia, Shiraya’s heart, I had not expected to see you here. You are well then?” Blaire said, concern swirling with surprise and joy at once as she leaned over to kiss her little sister on the cheek.
The last person she expected to see her was Bastilia. She was supposed to be recovering still from the attack on Sepan. Blaire had her concerns that Bast was attempting to mount the orbak too quickly after being thrown but there was nothing that could be done for it now. Bast was grown and strong and sharp enough to know her own limits. Too stubborn to lose and too proud to lie down.
“Thank you for the most gracious invite, Prince Veruna,” Blaire said her attention turned now to their host.
“The venue is truly breathtaking.” She’d never found it difficult to curtsy. In fact as a little girl she thought it was fun. Quick and cute and perfect was how she learned to do it each and every time. It meant nothing, courtesy but empty, yet it was expected and she did not balk at the gesture however unnecessary it should be. It was like candy. Fun but not filling.
“Lord Praxton, your donation was unexpected though greatly appreciated all the same.” As if to prove the point she dipped her knees again, let Veruna see it was not for him alone
“Lady Sorelle, it’s wonderful to see you again.” Blaire acknowledged Loria with a smile.
“Pray, all excuse me, I hope to join you soon but something requires my attention.”
Blaire walked off from those important people gathered at the table, past
Cassian Abrantes
and the exotic looking woman on his arm and straight to a pink hued woman in a foregoes blue silk gown and the small child in her arms.
“Hello Zeri,” Blaire said cheerfully to her cousin’s little daughter.
“You look very beautiful tonight.” Blaire leaned in to kiss Lossa on the cheek.
“Bast is here, did you know?”
Loria Sorelle
was looking at
Dominic Praxon
.
Bastila Sal-Soren
, a notorious- or perhaps infamous in the right circles, Jedi.
Lossa Aureus
with a child. And there was something else that caught his eye-
Corazona von Ascania
and whoever the hell she was talking to. She was nursing a wound. That much he knew. He was a medic, after all. He knew when someone was faking an injury, and more importantly, when they were hiding it. He wondered how badly it hurt, whatever it was. It was obvious in the way she carried herself. Maybe more than physical wounds. Often they were. Quickly, Raylin realized something-
