Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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“Sorry for all the hard times, love. Never been personal. Time for a change.” - Isar.

Perched on a chaise in the manor's drawing room, Cora balanced a gurgling baby against her shoulder while she read the note.

The little baggie of hair had puzzled her at first, having long forgotten the admittedly childish bounty she'd issued in the wake of Coruscant. Now, the pieces connected. Bewilderment turned to surprise turned to a fury she realized she was far too tired to hold onto.

The servant who'd brought her the package lingered in the room's periphery, confused as to why his Lady had received a bag of mustache clippings. A token from a former lover, perhaps?

"Ma'am?" he asked.

Cora placed the note down beside the bag. Luciana had begun to whine, and she needed both hands to steady against the infant's back, gently bouncing her daughter.

"Burn it," she muttered.

Just when she had finally forgotten what he'd done, Isar had the gall to remind her.
 

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