Faction Future Regents Dinner [THR]

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Kaadara Estate, Naboo
Directly Interacting with: Decarii Tithe
Nearby: Bastila Sal-Soren Loria Sorelle Dominic Praxon Thessaly Veruna John Locke Aurelian Veruna Corazona von Ascania Cassian Abrantes Her Bastila Sal-Soren Vemric Keldra
Wearing: Dress | x x

The evening had, thankfully, calmed.

Well, as much as it could. Murmurs still threaded through the hall, but Sibylla's interjection had smoothed the ripples of tension left in the wake of the earlier exchanges. That had been her intent all along, to bring the focus back to what mattered: Naboo, their survival, and, in turn, the Republic.

Amid the quiet shuffle of attendants refilling glasses, Sibylla caught Aurelian Veruna 's gaze. His lips shaped a subtle thank you, and she inclined her head in kind. It was the silent pact they had struck on Foundation Day, that she would stand beside him if he would heed her counsel and let her temper his fire. As his Voice, she could wield just as much influence for the Crown and the Republic as any monarch. And if Shiraya willed it, they would do so together.

Bastila Sal-Soren rose then to speak, and Sibylla turned to grant the young woman her full attention. A faint smile curved over the Ambassador's lips as she listened. Her heart still hadn't fully settled, but work always steadied her, it gave her something to hold on to. And the future of Naboo was where her attention belonged.

Truth be told, Bastila's speech was well crafted. Surprisingly so. Enough to make Sibylla consider speaking with her afterward, in a setting better suited for dialogue. If Bastila truly wished to step into politics, she would need more than declarations. She would need to know what it meant to stake her heart to a platform, and where she stood within the different currents of governance.

Once Bastila concluded, Sibylla took another sip of her whiskey. The Corellian spirit burned a path down her throat, though with each drink it grew smoother. Aurelian had been right, it did get easier the more one needed it.

The dinner quieted again. Quills scratched across ballots. Low voices traded predictions over who would rise as Naboo's Sovereign. To be expected, Sibylla mused. Still, for the first time that night, she thought the outcome might yet turn toward the better.

At least until the brisk arrival of Thessaly Veruna .

It wasn't the boldness of her entrance that struck Sibylla most, but Aurelian's reaction to it. The mask he so often wore, the polished veneer of overconfidence and performance, slipped away all at once. What replaced it wasn't even the man Sibylla had seen in his quiet office, stripped of theatrics. No, this was something else entirely. And it concerned her.

Her hazel eyes found his, her own expression composed though her gaze betrayed the question behind it: what is happening?

Her attention shifted to the woman in mourning cloth, the one Aurelian had given his seat to without hesitation, as if the command had been ingrained in him since boyhood.

"I beg your pardon," Sibylla said evenly, her voice cordial but firm as she addressed Thessaly directly.

"May I ask who you are?"

 

[Thessaly Veruna]

After purposefully letting the question as her to name linger in the air, Thessaly decided to let it hang a might longer. She offered a faint smile, and cursory glance at Sibylla.

"She reminds me of that Handmaiden you used to fawn over. The one that had to dismiss," she said in a manner so drawl that it verged on sleepy, "I wonder what became of her?" Her eyes came back to rest on Sibylla, eyes narrowing with her question.

Again, she dabbed at non-existant tears.

"Aurelian, be a dear and fetch me some water. I am parched," she said, her tone saccharine, yet edged with command.

Only after these long moments, did Thessaly make her rounds of the table, noting each that sat there. Her stomach lurched at the politician to her right, and the noblewoman leech clinging at his words. Pathetic, worms. A mother and child, that almost got an eye roll. The cripple was ignored, punishment enough for her weakness. But the man with the moustache, he gained her interest. Shame he squandered a physique like that making companions with a woman who was clearly a whore.

On the other side to the table, her judgment fell upon stragglers that made up the far end of the table, and the petulant young woman with her consort, or advisor probably. And then finally, an equally young woman, one that she knew from the news reports. Having some one with her name running for the highest office on Naboo showed just how far the planet had degraded in the 12 years she had been away.

"Aurelian. Tell father that he will see me."

Thessaly Veruna wanted to say her goodbyes.

Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes Bastila Sal-Soren Vemric Keldra Cassian Abrantes Decarii Tithe Corazona von Ascania Her John Locke Loria Sorelle


​

​

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

Cassian's jaw set as Thessaly's voice curled through the hall, each word polished in venom. She carried herself like someone who had long forgotten that her place at the table was granted, not earned. Every inflection dripped disdain, disdain for Sibylla, for the others gathered, even for her own kin she weaponized with the ease of a seasoned manipulator. True enough, he had no love for Aurelian, yet the way his demeanor changed represented something darker altogether.

The chair scraped faintly as Cassian rose, the movement sudden, uncalculated, anger flaring too sharp to be contained. His hand still rested on the table, fingers curled against the polished wood, shoulders squared like a man ready to face down an enemy line. This wasn't typically him, everything coming to a head, demotion, Shadows, RIS, Aren.

Thessaly's barbed words hung in the air, and for a heartbeat his composure slipped. It was his sister she sought to belittle, his family she treated as fodder for her poisoned amusement. His sister's name, thrown like a dart in passing, struck sharper than the drawl intended. True name was not mentioned completely, but the meaning was all the same.

Comparisons, veiled threats, unknowns....

He took a measured sip of his drink, letting the burn steady him, even as Thessaly's mocking pantomime of tears turned his stomach. Such affectation belonged to players on a stage, not women who claimed to stand among Naboo's finest.

Harlot, disease, poison....

"Enough...."

Her survey of the table was no less grating. Each look, each dismissal, each judgment, she wielded as if those gathered were pieces on a board for her amusement. Cassian had served beside soldiers who bled out in the mud without complaint, men and women who never once assumed they stood above the lives they protected. By contrast, Thessaly's sneer struck him as rot disguised in silk.

Cassian's gaze lingered on Thessaly a heartbeat longer, cold and measuring, before he turned back to Sibylla. His expression eased for her alone, he faintest signal, the same one he had given her a dozen times before in darker hours, it was an apology, yet confirmation as well... You are not alone. Not with me here.

He slowly sat back down as another glass of whiskey was brought before him, his fingers closed around it, raising it to drink.

Sibylla Abrantes Thessaly Veruna Aurelian Veruna

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

X | X​

Aurelian's mouth opened. A retort, some semblance of words that might have clawed back a sliver of control, was half-formed. But nothing came. The syllables tangled in his throat and died, strangled by the weight of her presence. Thessaly's demand sat in the air like smoke.

He looked to the table, to the watchful eyes that had once been his audience, court, and stage. Now they stared at him as though he were a boy again, caught out, stripped down, humiliated in the very game he had designed. He could almost hear the whispers already: Prince Aurelian undone by his sister's shadow.

The glass in his hand trembled as he raised it, the amber sloshing against the crystal. He caught Blaire's curiosity, Dominic's scrutiny, Sibylla's quiet concern, Bastila's sharpened focus. All of them saw a cornered, small brother, rather than the cunning Veruna heir. His pulse thundered in his throat, faster and faster, until it drowned the low murmur of the sea outside.

Thessaly was back. She was his older sister, his tormentor, his cruel mirror. Those who whispered of Remus Veruna as tyrant had never met her; she was his echo, shadow, perhaps even his refinement.

As children, she had cut him with words as deftly as their father cut with steel. Aurelian had thought her gone forever, vanished into a decade of silks and salons somewhere beyond Naboo. And yet here she sat, draped in black, demanding, commanding, like she'd never left.

Why now? Why tonight, when his claim was finally beginning to harden into reality? Was she here to ruin him simply for sport, to dismantle what he had bled to build? Or had she come back to twist the knife deeper, as she had always done, when she saw him dare to stand tall?

Then she said it. "Father." Aurelian's breath caught, sharp as glass in his chest. His eyes nearly bulged with horror. For a moment, he thought he might choke, the air itself turning against him. His hand jerked once at his side, useless.

He staggered back a step, then another. His chair behind him loomed empty, her figure in it like a phantom from his childhood. His throat burned with bile, but he forced his body to move, to escape.

Aurelian reached blindly for the nearest glass, not caring whose it was, and clutched it like a lifeline. He turned, shoulders rigid and every muscle taut, and walked. He moved past everyone, ignoring the servants and his own seat. He walked past the candlelight, the fine silver, and the judgment in their eyes. Out.

His steps were measured, but inside he was nothing but panic, his chest tight, his heart clawing at his ribs. He didn't stop until he found the terrace air and the scent of salt and sea crashed over him.

Behind him, the table buzzed like a hive, but he heard nothing. Only the pounding of his pulse, the roar of the tide, the echo of Thessaly's voice.

His legacy was slipping. His mask was cracking. And worst of all, she was back.

-Exit-​

 

[Loria Sorelle]

LORIA SORELLE
Kaadara Estate, Naboo

The hall was abuzz with activity. Voices filled the air with conversation and gossip as the gentle tapping of glasses echoed throughout the hall. Though above all, the head of the table remained at the center of attention. Words spoken in the halls of Kaadara would be discussed at great length in the times to come, she would make sure of it.

Her gaze turned to Decarii Tithe , with a friendly smile upon her face. 'Oh it's not so bad once you're "in the know," after a while it all starts to... piece together and make sense,' she paused for a moment, taking a sip of her drink, 'I imagine it's a lot like your courtroom: you have to know who's who to get anywhere.'

A smirk grew on her face at Decarii's wish to find a new home on Naboo. She saw the message she was trying to send. Should she catch her attention she would chime in, 'Theed is, of course, the heart of Naboo, but if you're looking for somewhere quieter I would wholeheartedly recommend Kaadara or Keren.'

Throughout their discussion her attention was split by the happenings of the monarch elects. Strong words from both Aurelian & Bastila meant to rouse those in attendance in their favours. It was riveting, enough talk of this and that to fill her Society Paper for a whole month, even.

Eventually, Dominic Praxon 's attention returned to her; Her question on who to vote for finally answered. 'I see-' she began, accepting his pen with a coy smirk. 'Thank you.'

With pen in hand she took to the parchment, writing a 'B' upon it as suggested by her companion. She, herself, had other thoughts: Aurelian Veruna. He had a plan, he had the backing of his new voice of the house, and the two had met recently. She was rather fond of him, even though she found his careful intensity rather intimidating.

She placed a paper vote for Bastilla at the suggestion of Dominic, yet she remained unsure in her choice still.

After passing off her parchment to a nearby attendant, her attention soon turned to Sibylla Abrantes once again. 'Ah, I see...' a frown formed upon her face in concern. 'I'm glad to see you're both in good health after your... encounter.'

She raised the glass to her lips just in time for Sibylla to find her voice. And find her voice she did. Her frown soon dissipated into a smirk as she said what needed to be said. Loria found herself roused by her points, in fact.

Her glass raised even further at its conclusion, 'To Naboo!' she called out with Sibylla.

After taking yet another sip, a voice next to her manifested. Her gaze shifted to see Corazona von Ascania , leaning in slightly herself to answer: 'She does! I was pleasantly surprised, in fact...' she trailed off as Cora's next question piqued her interest.

'It's... complicated,' she began; Her time researching and collecting gossip for her Society Papers had surprisingly come in handy in more than one way. 'Provided they are noble, they would have to relinquish any ties to the order, I believe,' she added in agreement with Blaire Sal-Soren .

A few more moments passed and the mood soured quickly at Thessaly Veruna 's arrival. She watched as she stormed into the room with the personality of a common street thug. She tried to conceal the smirk on her face as she spoke to Aurelian much like an evil godmother would to a child.

She raised her glass to her lips in a vain attempt to conceal her curiosity. Of course, she felt bad for Aurelian, but it would make fantastic content for her society papers.

Her eyes skittered throughout the hall as the show continued, fascinated by the happenings and the drama. She watched and admired as Sibylla Abrantes spoke out only to be spoken down to by the newcomer. Her heart swelled with a sense of loathing for Thessaly as a result.

Though within seconds her attention snapped to Cassian Abrantes 's veiled threat. Relieving. Cathartic. She found mentally herself cheering him on.

Though the moment didn't last long, for her eyes wandered to the departing Prince. She leant into Dominic slightly, her demeanor now serious and poised, 'I believe this dinner has reached its conclusion, wouldn't you say?'


Interacting with Dominic Praxon , Sibylla Abrantes , Decarii Tithe , Aurelian Veruna , Bastila Sal-Soren , Blaire Sal-Soren , Corazona von Ascania , Cassian Abrantes & Thessaly Veruna

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"If they leave the order," Blaire answered without having been asked. "A silly rule, really."

'It's... complicated,' she began; Her time researching and collecting gossip for her Society Papers had surprisingly come in handy in more than one way. 'Provided they are noble, they would have to relinquish any ties to the order, I believe,' she added in agreement with Blaire Sal-Soren Blaire Sal-Soren .

"Is that so?" Cora hummed in consideration, and perhaps, agreement. "I suppose no one individual should hold both the power of a Jedi and a sovereign."

Stepping away from the Jedi did not strip away the Force, though. A complication, when balancing the power that was gifted with the power that was sought.

She speared a piece of nuna cutlet onto her fork, and as Blaire made her introduction, lifted it to her lips and chewed thoughtfully. A demure hand lifted to hover in front of her mouth as she swallowed. "Corazona von Ascania of Ukatis," she answered with a smile that balanced between warm and polite.

"A pleasure to meet another Sal-Soren. I must say, I do love your dress. The pattern is stunning." Cora dabbed at her lips daintily with a napkin before leaning toward Loria and adding, “And your hair is gorgeous. My mother has dark hair, and I envy it so.”

Shortly thereafter, a woman garbed entirely in black sauntered into the tent and promptly stole Aurelian's chair. Stranger still, the Prince of Parrlay looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Who was this woman that had unnerved him in thirty seconds flat?

A scorned lover, perhaps? An escort here to make a dramatic reveal out of his private life?

Their relation became clear. A sister. Not one that he got along with, clearly. She was quick to levy a jab at Sibylla, then cast her brazen scrutiny over the table.

Cora reached for her wine glass. Her fingers wrapped around the delicate stem, sending a gentle ripple through the Force, so barely perceptible that even her fellow Jedi might miss it.

As she lifted the wine to her lips, the glass closest to Thessaly would tip over and pour its contents into the widow's lap.

Cora would look appropriately surprised.

Interacting: Blaire Sal-Soren Loria Sorelle
Mentioned: Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes Thessaly Veruna

 

[Her]

---

---

"The Tarsai Vigil is a subsidiary of Cortessan Finance Group. It operates along the Five Veils Route following the aftermath of the Planetshift event and was created to provide security to the trading route. As part of it's protocol it ran inspections of other ships using the route to check for contraband, illegal items or criminal activity while enforcing tolls on others using the trading route for commercial or civilian transportation. It also serves in the capacity of bringing about the re-establishment of the route on the behalf of Wend Marcion and their megacorp. Tarsai Vigil is headquartered on the planet Enarc."
-- A description of the Cortessan Finance Group subsidiary "The Tarsai Vigil", a participant of the Five Veils Initiative.

---

Naboo, Mid Rim systems;
Kadaara, The High Republic;
Vūm, The Tarsai Vigil.

Tags: Jael Amnen | Aurelian Veruna | Vemric Keldra | Cassian Abrantes | Raylin Fall | Sibylla Abrantes | John Locke | Kael Varnok | Corazona von Ascania | Loria Sorelle | Bastila Sal-Soren | Roman Vossari | Decarii Tithe | Seldan Rourke | Aiden Porte

[ DEVIANT ]​

At the other end of the table, as the Ukatis guests immersed themselves in Nabooian aristocracy-- quietly judging the invited nobility gathered as unwitting participants in Aurelian Veruna 's masterful chess board, as they considered a place within The High Republic at the expense of the failing, falling Galactic Alliance-- sat the outlier: the mysterious and enigmatic manager from Tarsai Vigil, who joined them in a deliberate quiet observation of the political dramas disguised beneath the veneer of fine food, drink and celebration of the Naboo noble class.

There had been much to learn from this event.

"I will usher in a renaissance for Nabooian culture. I will see our influence grow, as it already has with Ukatis. I will see our borders defended, as I have with my War Bill. These people... are my responsibility; and I will never let anyone else dictate otherwise. Not you, not the Jedi, not any family name carried like a shield against inexperience. This is my board. My pieces. My rules. And I have been playing since the day I could walk."

"So understand this, Lady Sal-Soren. You are not here to win. You are here to be measured; and thus far, all you've shown me is that persistence is not the same thing as power..."

At the head of the table, as the Veruna guests conversed among each other, and enjoyed the fruits of Aurelian's machinations, occurred a war of words which betrayed a rivalry between the Shiraya-Jedi, Bastila Sal-Soren , and their host-- a prodigal son of House Veruna who was on the cusp of restoring his family name through a victory that would see him succeed Kalantha as the new King of Naboo if he could only supplant the indomitable veteran opposing him in the upcoming Monarchy Elections.

Might he find an unusual ally, sat at the other end of the table, who may score him needed political points in the upcoming votes?

Intertwined with the revelation of the Veruna and Sal-Soren dichotomy, Her learned about the Ukatis connection. What was the Prince conceiving with the likes of Corazona von Ascania , and her fledgling King?

A cunning mind foresaw possibilities and permutations that would allocate Aurelian much needed currency in the current political climate: the Nabooian saviour-- whose foresight, political clout, and aristocracy combined with a certain grace that would see him orchestrate a coup to save the Ukatish from the Dark-Imperial March upon the Core Worlds by acquiring them membership status of this burgeoning High Republic, all the while a newly re-consecrated Galactic Empire looked to destroy the Galactic Alliance and replace them with a new dynasty set to last a thousand years just as Palpatine had envisioned long after he had left these Kadaara shores.

Was that his play by inviting the likes of Corazona von Ascania to this party?

Or was there something else that her guess had missed? Something that the Dark Lord could not see with her limited insight into Aurelian's scope and vision?

"Greetings in the name of the Goddess, friend."

Her broke their gaze at the head of the table to turn to Jael Amnen , and in the face of sereneness, the undercover Dark Lord needn't blink for they had long been caste into the shadow to a place where the solus of such a splendid, resplendent being could never reach to plunge them out of the certain, inevitable doom long fated for one such as the Dark Lord of the Sith as she traversed the fine lines between catastrophe, and ruination concealed by her dark arts in the Force.

Bastion had been left in ruins.

Brosi had been forever scarred.

By Her machinations in the dark-side.

"May Shiraya bless the next Monarch of Naboo," Her replied to the Shiraya-Priestess as she lied through her teeth while the conspiracy which had affected the Outer Rim systems found it's way into these 'southern' systems.

"As the Ambassador to the Mandalorian Empire..."

"Do not mistake bleeding for Naboo as only physical. Politicians bleed too. In the endless hours of drafting laws, of arguing over language to protect farmer and House alike. In the negotiations that pull balance from chaos. I was there when the Sith Princess struck at Prince Veruna..."

"That is why I stepped back from the race. Despite the polls. Despite the certainty of my victory because the mark of a true politician is not only knowing when to advance, but when to step aside..."

"If one is in search of a project for Naboo, there is none greater than this: to face and cut out the taint that is infecting our assembly and our Republic worlds by the Black Sun Syndicate. To resist the Sith pressing at our borders. To prepare for the Empire whose gaze will soon fall upon us. Naboo is not merely another world. She is the Republic's heart. Her course will shape the galaxy, and there is no time left for division. Only unity."

Her set her cutlery down upon the plate, her meal half-eaten but nevertheless finished, as she returned to bridging her chin upon a pair of cupped hands in quiet admiration of Sibylla Abrantes 's impassioned speech and endorsement of Aurelian Veruna 's bid to become the next King of Naboo.

Indeed, she was hungry for something else beyond the palate served at tonight's venue.

All across the galaxy, whether it being in these 'southern' systems, or out in the Outer Rim Territories, the Mandalorian resurgence had been felt. Indeed, Mand'alor the Iron was proving to be a cunning political strategist through the acquisition of brewing partnerships both in Republic and Imperial Space as the ambassador to his Empire spoke with a reverence for unification in the face of the threats surrounding Naboo and her allies.

The upcoming trade conference at the Anvil of Concordia juxtaposed with the revelation that they had already sent feelers into the High Republic suggested political manoeuvring which had potential implications concerning the other galactic powers particularly given the subtle hints Sibylla had referenced in regards to the Sith Empire (founded in the Jutrand system) and the attempted assassination of Republic delegates at the botched Wielu negotiations by a member of the Sith Order.

Indeed, the politics concerning unity in regards to the threats posed by the re-consecrated Galactic Empire, resurgent Black Sun Syndicate, and the nefarious, dark presence along the Outer Rim systems in the form of the Sith Empire were of great interest to the likes of Her. Was there potential to manoeuvre the likes of the High Republic into pacts with the Mandalorians or Confederate-Imperials where it concerned these adversaries who they shared borders with?

"My lords, my ladies... Lady Abrantes has spoken with both eloquence and truth. The crown is not a prize to be won in games of pride or sharpened words. It is a burden. To bear it, one needs more than ambition, one needs allies."

"I believe Lady Abrantes and I will make a formidable team. Naboo could ask for no wiser Voice of the Houses. Together, we will ensure her safety, her strength, and her unity."

As Her sat there, considering possibilities combined with her insights and knowledge where concerning politics on the galactic stage, one thing became clear above all others.

There was a connection between Sibylla and Aurelian which was paramount to the latter's successful bid where it came to the upcoming elections for the next Monarch of Naboo, and as the stranger in their midst listened, observed, and thought quietly to themselves, Her took into consideration how the next King or Queen could affect and determine events across the galaxy in the early ninth-century...

---

 

[Kael Varnok]

Kael felt it too — the ripple that wasn't a ripple, the way the room bent itself around the widow's entrance. His gaze lingered on Thessaly for a long moment, steady and unreadable, before shifting briefly toward Aiden. The Knight gave the faintest of nods, an unspoken acknowledgment that yes, he sensed it as well.

For an instant, the other voice inside stirred, curling like smoke in his chest.

"Do you feel it?" the whisper taunted. "Not grief. Power. This one could topple kings without ever drawing steel. You should admire her… or fear her."

Kael's jaw set, and he forced the thought into silence. His outward composure never wavered, save for the flicker of his hand settling against the hilt at his belt — not a threat, only the reflex of a man long used to demons appearing in elegant disguises.

"The tides shift," he murmured quietly, more to Aiden than to himself, his voice low enough to be lost beneath the hushed murmurs of nobles. "Best we stand ready if the waves break."


Then he stilled, posture resuming the easy stillness of a Jedi observer — but the slight narrowing of his eyes betrayed his wariness.

Aiden Porte

 

[Decarii Tithe]

Kadaara, Naboo

Jael Amnen | Bastila Sal-Soren | Dominic Praxon | Cassian Abrantes | Sibylla Abrantes | Corazona von Ascania | Aurelian Veruna | Blaire Sal-Soren | Thessaly Veruna | Aiden Porte | Loria Sorelle | Her | Kael Varnok

While Sibyalla and Loria offered sage wisdom on where Decarii should purchase property, such was the drama elsewhere on the table that the discussion was short-lived. The verbal sparring between the two contenders for the throne - Aurelian and Bastila - spilled out from a clash of words to an all-consuming confrontation. At this point, the polite company around her had abandoned their discreet eavesdropping and were wholeheartedly engrossed in the argument.

Decarii quickly scribbled Aurelian’s name on the scrap of parchment she had been given and neatly folded it before throwing the vote onto the pile in the middle of the elaborately set dinner table. She had seen the Prince in action in the High Assembly and on Wielu, and he was a known quantity. She raised her empty glass to signal the waitstaff for a refill as the argument between the candidates for the crown came to a close. While the public fight was over, it felt like the true battle was only beginning.

“To Naboo,” Decarii declared in chorus with the table as a toast was called. She tapped her delicate stemware against her neighbour’s before taking a sip of the vintage blossom wine. While Aargauun by birth, her people’s only true loyalty was to credits. A public pledge to another world was permissible so long as it was a long-term investment in her wealth, such as securing favour with the royal houses.

The temperature of the room changed as a severe raven-haired guest joined the table, ordering Aurelian to give up his chair. Years in the courtroom afforded Decarii the ability to keep a straight expression in the face of surprise, and it took her practised self-control to avoid sitting forward in interest. Whoever the woman was, she was formidable.

After a short exchange, the Prince departed without having the final word - an almost unfathomable signal that he was greatly troubled by what the new arrival had said.

“Friend of the Prince’s?” she asked Sibyalla. Sensing the change, guests around her began to depart. Decarii neatly folded her napkin and placed it beside her half-finished plate of pelikki. “Or an old flame?” Whoever she was, the table seemed surprised to see the newcomer.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Kaadara Estate, Naboo
Directly Interacting with: Decarii Tithe Thessaly Veruna
Nearby: Bastila Sal-Soren Loria Sorelle Dominic Praxon John Locke Aurelian Veruna Corazona von Ascania Cassian Abrantes Her Bastila Sal-Soren Vemric Keldra
Wearing: Dress | x x

​

Sibylla's lips curved in a polite smile, but her hazel eyes narrowed just slightly as Thessaly's barbed words dripped across the table, each one meant to cut Aurelian down before them all. Old flame as Decarii Tithe suggested or kin, it hardly mattered. The woman was an aggravating piece of work, and Sibylla's first thought was that she did not belong here.

Her gaze followed Aurelian as he rose and left, a flicker of worry tugging at her composure, before snapping back to Thessaly. The woman needed to be handled, and this dinner must be kept intact.

Even her own brother Cassian Abrantes felt the same, the deep tenor of his voice cutting through the shocked murmurs with a firm, no-nonsense tone that this is enough.

Enough indeed.

Providence - - Shiraya's providence, perhaps - - saw the wine spill across Thessaly's mourning skirt. The black fabric hid the stain, but the damp cling of it could not be ignored… nor the subtle satisfaction Sibylla felt at that faux pas of the seemingly clumsy Thessaly.

She irritated Sibylla in more ways than one.

But enough was enough.

The Daughter of Abrantes, future Voice of Naboo, took a slow sip of her whiskey, the burn giving her a steadying edge, then she set her glass down and took charge in Aurelian Veruna ’s wake instead.

With a calm smile that seemed all hospitality, Sibylla summoned the attendant, her composure turning a dismissal into an act of courtesy.

"Please, assist the lady. A glass of water, and the powder room. I am sure she would appreciate the chance to refresh herself." Her tone was soft yet left no doubt that it was to be obeyed.

The attendants moved quickly, stepping in to attempt to escort Thessaly. The woman could make a scene if she wished, but she would look all the more ridiculous for it, to be swept aside as though her dramatics were little more than clutter at the edge of the table.

Whatever relationship the woman in mourning cloth had that prompted Aurelian to react thusly did not mean Sibylla would tolerate any of it.

Rising from her seat, Sibylla turned back to the remaining guests, her expression smooth and encouraging with a smile meant to continue the conversation and meal.

"Please, do enjoy your meal. Plenty of drinks are yet to be enjoyed should you wish."

Inside, though, her thoughts lingered on Aurelian. His mask had been completely ripped off in a matter of seconds, which concerned her more than Thessaly's venom ever could.

What was all this about?

With that, Sibylla ensured everyone was settled before she excused herself and left.

 

[Thessaly Veruna]

Cassian’s sudden rise had drawn her eye, though only for the faint amusement it provided. His hand clenched on the table, voice breaking the air with that single word of protest. Enough. Her lips parted, just barely, into something between a smile and a sigh.

“What a waste of a strong jaw line,” Thessaly murmured, her tone sharp and dismissive. “All that fire, and yet you play at gallantry like a farm boy. Do sit, dear. It is unbecoming. Peackocks have more flair.”

The wine glass tipped. A spill across her mourning black. It was cold and sudden. Her gaze lowered, narrowed, then lifted again. Her gaze was slow and suspicious. Glasses did not leap of their own accord. Something unnatural had disturbed her performance. Her veil tilted ever so slightly, as though weighing the room itself.

Her hand dabbed at the stain with deliberate disdain, not embarrassment.

“How clumsy. Or perhaps… not clumsy at all. Curious, isn’t it, how glasses fall in the presence of certain…guests.”

The attendants moved in at Sibylla’s beckon, eager to make themselves useful. A powder room. A glass of water. A dismissal presented as courtesy, if only barely. Thessaly did not so much as look at them. Her attention cut only to Sibylla, her voice soft as silk and twice as cruel.

“Run along, child. Naboo has given its reins to children for far too long, and look what has become of her.”

Her elbow settled once more against the armrest, posture easy, claiming the space Aurelian had fled from without so much as a second thought. Her gaze lingered on the empty chair beside her, lips curling into something perilously close to a smile.

“Long live the King.”

Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes Bastila Sal-Soren Corazona von Ascania Decarii Tithe Loria Sorelle Cassian Abrantes Her etc
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