Private Morning Blues | Mila

[Hisashi]

Location: Lake Country, Naboo
Tag: Saraya Arenais

It was all starting to make sense.

The Gift of Life was a fickle mistress. To be able to draw breath, day in and out, was a luxury that the Galaxy took for granted. There were billions of lives which hung in the balance regularly. Billions who starved, suffered, or were snuffed out by the choices of others. And some, including the Shinobi, turned the blade upon their own flesh. There were few who would see such an act as anything more than a cry for help. Yet, as the man looked upon the chapters of his own life, only one word came to mind: weakness. The hands which had molded his life and being were such that "escape" from the brutalities of living was the act of a coward.

And in that moment, when the steel pierced his abdomen, Hisashi was running away. From pain. From loss. From all the Gift of Life itself.

Yet, despite his best efforts, the assault upon his person did not stick. As if a cruel consequence to spitting in the face of Life, undeath had been the result. The ebb and flow of the Force had been contorted to the whims of an ancient cult, resulting in the formation of some bleak artifact. And it was this remnant which dragged the warrior back from the eternal gloom. For a time, he toed the line between life and death - until the artifact was unmade by his comrades in life. The act should have seen him return to the dirt. Ashes to ashes - dust to dust. And yet, the cruel consequence persisted.

Hisashi was made whole. And the sum of his experience was a rather nasty scar upon his abdomin.

He had been driven to the weakest, most cowardly option. And now, he would be forced to live with it. Literally. Thus, he returned to the trade which had defined his years. Returned, so that he might put some distance between himself and that agony which drove him to such extremes. The mercenary path was simple. Kill and be rewarded. Obey and be rewarded. For a hound of battle, this was the ideal mold. In a sense, he was born to fill it. And of the many missions he undertook in his attempt to distance himself, one brought him into contact with a "nobleman" of Naboo.

The man was far from home, in the heart of Hutt Space. The man was meek, and had made many enemies. The man was the target of Hisashi's blade - and soon paid the price on his head. But as the weapon ripped through his bones, he made a plea with his dying gasp. A plea backed by a hefty boon of credits. Protect his daughter. Protect the one called Mila. The shift from contract killer to guard dog was...interesting. Especially when the one responsible for the protection had also been the hand that killed her sire. Yet, true to his bargain, Hisashi kept watch over the young woman.

And as Galactic events unfolded, he understood why her survival was so important. It wasn't some affectionate plea at the end of life. The father begged on behalf of an entire world. Naboo herself hung in the balance. Hisashi was responsible for the next Queen.

No pressure.

As the revelation seeped into their daily lives, no longer did the shinobi and his charge tarry in Hutt Space. Soon, after much protest on his part, he accompanied the young woman on her return to Naboo. He very well could have made the excuse then to terminate his agreement. That she would be safe among her people...but he knew better. Power. Titles. It all drew ire from the shadows. As monarch, she would be in far more danger than ever before. This was going to cost extra.

In the present day, morning had come upon Naboo. Per the usual, the shinobi had risen long before the sun, taking care to ensure their current lodgings were secure. A family estate had been claimed by the future monarch, and thus there was a lot of ground to cover. And a lot of personnel to contend with. Fortunately enough, they all understood the priority of keeping the young woman secure. That made things a little easier when Hisashi made his rounds.

Per the usual, at just about eight, the kitchens would load a tray and send a droid up to Mila's chambers. Hisashi would follow suit, and tarry in the doorway whilst the young woman rose and righted herself. of course, not before swiping a few well-earned strips of bacon as the droid scurried over to her bedside. He leaned upon the doorframe, eyes taking a sweep of her space to check for anything out of place. All seemed to be in order. Quiet. Bright. Ideal.

"Mawnin Pryfes" came his greeting, amidst chews of bacon. In Basic, that might have translated to "Morning princess" if he gave a rat's ass about etiquette.​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

L O C A T I O N | Lake Country, Naboo​

W E A R I N G | [x]​

T A G S | Hisashi ​

Thin strips of playful golden light slipped through the gap in the purple velvet curtains. As the sun rose over the lush green landscape of Naboo, the light stretched. Dancing playfully across polished marble floors and intricately crafted furniture. Until it reached a silken pillow, upon which an ebony-haired woman lay soundly asleep. It wasn’t until the light reached her face that she stirred from her dreams, with a less than impressed expression on her soft features. The night had been long. Not to mention exceedingly stressful. Sleep hadn’t claimed her until the sun had begun to peek from behind the horizon of Naboo. ​

Her fingers dragged slowly through the tousled locks that blocked her vision, though her eyes refused to open for a minute or two as they adjusted to the glaring yellow daylight glow. ​

“Hisashi.” It wasn’t the friendliest of greetings, but it was the best Mila could force out. The sweet, bird-like melody that flitted from her lips was still tainted with the grogginess of the night before. So much so that it almost sounded irate, but Hisashi of all people would be well aware of Mila’s aversion to morning. Swinging her slender legs from the silken sheets, the young princess had finally managed to convince herself to brace the icy chill of the marbled floor. She was less than ready to begin another day, but a change of clothes and a bite of whatever was causing the delicious smell that lingered in the early morning air would go a long way to making her feel human again. ​

“How do you find yourself this morning?” She asked of her unintentional bodyguard, who stood lazily at the entrance to her rooms, as she slipped behind a divider to change. He was no more a bodyguard now than he was the day they’d met, but she no longer regarded him as brutally as she had back then. The vehemence and poison she displayed and found within herself in those early days were the least he deserved. He was the entire reason she travelled her path alone. Without her sire, her mentor, the one who was meant to guide her. It had been torment, being forced to spend every waking moment with the man who had murdered her father, all because it had been his dying wish. She hadn’t understood it, she had refused to understand it, but time was a great healer. And an even greater teacher. It had only been a few months, but now?​

Hisashi was a friend. Plain and simply put. Mila had long since abandoned her concern over whose hand had held the blade that cut her father down, or who’s purse the price had been paid from. He was by no means her oldest friend, nor did she consider him her dearest, but he was a friend, nonetheless. In some strange and unspoken way, he had taken up the mantle of mentor, and Mila had let him. He was partially the reason she had survived long enough to even run in the elections. Whoever had paid to have her father wiped from the Galaxy had not been content to leave loose ends, and Hisashi hadn’t been the only one to acquire a bounty on the name Karr. With all the irony the sentiment implied, Mila could hardly imagine her life without him.​

Immerging from behind the divider wearing one of her plainer dresses, her rose-tinted lips parted as though she had something further to say. Yet, before she could even form a sound the sharp tap of someone’s heel on the polished floor echoed through the hallways. ​

“My Lady!” A boisterous servant rudely, and much to Mila’s surprise, burst through the ornate double doors past Hisashi without so much as a second glance at him. A grim expression had made itself home on her face. With a part to play, Mila slipped into the voice she reserved for her duties. “What in Galaxies name are yo-…” The servant seemed flustered, so flustered in fact that his voice cut through Mila’s with little concern for the consequences. “The Queen, my Lady. She-…” He shifted, from one foot to the other like a child in the midst of receiving an extremely harsh punishment. ​

“Spit it out.” Mila’s voice snapped. Like a wounded dog using its bark, it was simply a defence mechanism. Neither the servant nor Hisashi had likely ever experienced such a sour note in her melodic tone, but everyone was aware that the subject of the Queen was an extremely sore topic for Mila.​

It should have been her. ​

The servant swallowed. Mila watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat. Silence seemed to stretch throughout her rooms. Lingering in an almost painful manner, as though it belonged. In that silence, Mila could feel her stomach-churning. She had expected news, but not this quickly, not this early. The young woman rose a brow expectantly at the servant, as though daring him to prolong the torturous lack of sound. ​

Finally, he spoke. “They found her in her rooms this morning, my Lady. She’s dead.” ​

 

[Hisashi]

Location: Lake Country, Naboo
Tag: Saraya Arenais

On the surface, the response was irritated.

For those who did not understand the...dynamic...between the noble and the sellsword, the greeting offered was hardly kind. It did not match that bubbly, infectious personality that had seen the young princess earn her crown. Rather, it was short. Mired by the grogginess of waking. And...it was exactly what the shinobi was expecting. Over the course of their time together, Mila had made one reality exceedingly clear in their travels. It mattered not if they were in the lap of luxury, such as today, or in a seedy hostel on Nar Shaddaa. When the rooster crowed and the dawn arrived, she was not the happiest of campers.

Of course, food was one tried and true method of improving her mood. Hence, the shinobi always ensured there was a platter waiting whenever the gift of life roused her from slumber. It was not due to the goodness of his heart, mind. But rather, an effort in self preservation. For, if allowed to rise and allowed to not feed immediately, the princess turned into a beast of the likes Naboo had never seen.

Gross exaggerations aside...

The man swallowed his mouthful of delicious pork and wiped the remnant grease off upon his top - a sin which would have had him flogged in more regal circles. His gaze followed her form as she slowly rose from the bed and scampered across the cool tiles to the divider. Up went the night attire, and out stepped the young woman dressed for the day. She had chosen a dress for the day, something light and comfortable. Good. Anything ornate would certainly slow them down through her maddening list of appointments.

Appearances here. Meetings there. Hisashi was quickly being reminded of A-

Without knowing, a scowl had formed on his face as she crossed his mind. The past was a cruel bastard that had no place clinging to his morning. And thus, with the clearing of his throat, he answered the woman's question. "I'm fine." She would have been used to the simplicity of the answer. Well-trained in the art of not asking follow-up questions to be sure, as well. What mattered now was getting the princess fed and out the door so that he day could begin. "You'd best get some of this before I eat it all." A small jest...and an empty one at that. He'd be damned if he dealt with a hungry princess all morning. He'd rather die. Again.

"And then, we can run through your agenda. To my surprise, it's packed with rich people." The sarcasm was thicker than the bagel a few inches from his hand. He secured another strip of bacon, only to be met with the rushing form of one of the servants. Her voice was shrill, panicked - and the last time Hisashi had seen one such entrance it had been to preserve the princess' modesty. Back then, the servants had a fit about the shinobi standing at the door whilst Mila got dressed for the day. Now, after a few well-placed threats, they knew better to question him.

Thus, the man's eyebrows hit the ceiling when she came barging past. He parted his lips to address this, but the princess beat him to it. Something was off. He listened, lowering the pork from his lips and setting it back down upon the tray. The Queen was dead.

Long live the Queen.

At once, the shinobi's stomach sank. He knew the day would come when Mila would take the throne - but he had assumed it would be literal years in the future. The reigning monarch had only just taken the throne in recent history. But this? This was unprecedented. This...this reeked. Now, Hisashi was a man of many skills. He had kept her alive - and taught her to survive - thus far. But guarding the next in line following the demise of her predecessor was no small task. It was one he was ill equipped for with his current assets. His nostrils flared - a heavy exhale fell from him.

"Ready her ship." he growled, in such a way that the servant jumped. "Now."

He then thrust two fingers in the direction of the droid holding the platter. "You. Help her pack, at least three days' worth." And with that, he settled his gaze upon the princess. She'd see in his eyes the cacophony of thoughts. "We're going to Roon."

Simply uttering the planet's name made his stomach sink even further. Made his mind recall the life he had left behind. The Obsidan path - one where he and...that witch had sat upon the same council. Where he and many others had fought together. Bled together. At least, among the Obsidians, there would be enough means to keep her safe. Enough ways to ensure that the Queen's demise was not foul play. Along the way, Mila could make her statements via the holonet. But for now, her safety was his job. And it was one he took seriously.

Seriously enough that he'd return to that place which saw his blade ran through his stomach.​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

L O C A T I O N | Lake Country, Naboo​

W E A R I N G | [x]​

T A G S | Hisashi ​

An unsteady hand came to rest on the flat of her stomach, where she could feel every violent twist and turn it made. Her lips were parted. Moving, even. As though she were attempting to form words, but nothing came. Was it anxiety that brought on dizzying nausea that threatened to empty what little was in her stomach? Perhaps. Or at least that was, fortunately, what any eyes on Mila would now assume. She had gone to bed merely a princess. A failure, by all accounts. Second best. Nobody had expected her to take over for years, if not decades, possibly even never. As far as they were aware, Mila had expected the same. ​

As she took a step backwards to sit heavily on her feather mattress, everything went quiet. The shuffling of the servant’s feet as they rushed into the rooms, the ever-present tick of the clock on her mantelpiece, the gentle roar of the flames in the fireplace that sought to chase away the morning chill. Even Hisashi’s commanding tone, the one that seemed to dominate the atmosphere, had gone deathly silent. ​

Roon. A familiar voice echoed in the void that had become her mind. It was the voice that flicked the switch in her head and flooded the room with light again. Her eyes snapped open, gaze immediately finding the man the voice belonged too. “Roon?” It was the first word she had spoken since the servant had broken the news. “Why Roon?” At first, her question had been filled with an innocent but nervous curiosity. She knew the tone Hisashi had used well. It was reserved for moments filled with danger. Tense moments that could have been shattered with a misplaced breath. Over the past few months, he had used it several times, but only when her life had been under immediate threat. ​

Mila shot up from her seat on the bed, finally realising why he wanted to leave Naboo. Chaos had suddenly overtaken what had been a deceptively peaceful morning. Every bang, clatter and clash the servants made as they packed felt like the room was filled with a cacophonous orchestra. Each misplaced note like the unearthly screech of a poorly played violin. It built into an infuriating crescendo that threatened to shatter her sensibilities. Hisashi had told her once before that breakfast should always come before dressing, at least where she was concerned. The one day she had forgotten that advice…​

“STOP!” Her voice had reached a fever pitch, akin to nails being dragged down a blackboard. “Roon, Hisashi?” Mila’s tone dipped down again in the middle of her sentence as she finally realized she was speaking at an ear-shattering volume. “I can’t just up and leave to Roon! This is…” For once Mila felt rather lost for words, rather like the innocent, naïve face she wore for the public was the only face she had. She took a steadying breath of air that saw her eyes close once more. The room no longer smelled like freshly cooked bacon. It reeked of panic. Of fear. When she opened them again her gaze was set on Hisashi. “The people of Naboo will be crushed when this tragic news spreads across the planet, and in their grief, they will look for a leader. I can’t and won’t allow them to stare at an empty throne, no matter the danger it might put me in.” ​

It sounded noble, people before health and sanity. Just as she had intended. She could hardly tell Hisashi that the concern behind his eyes was unfounded. Perhaps she would one day, but not now. Certainly not in front of eyes and ears less understanding than his. This was the next best thing. Beyond that, they had always had a back and forth whenever he had demanded anything of her. Be it an extra perimeter check, or his insistence upon her food to be tested. She had always pushed back, but she had always eventually agreed. The servants would too. If this was an assassination, she was next in line, and she would be safer elsewhere.​

Mila was well aware if she wanted to play this out properly things had to go as they always did for Hisashi to be as convinced as the others. She had been fortunate enough for them to be natural up to now, but Hisashi was smarter. He watched more. He focused more. He would know immediately if anything was off.​

“If I turn tail and run now, even if it is what you suspect, how do you suppose the council will react?” Mila pressed her lips together, finally allowing silence to take hold of the room again as everyone waited to hear Hisashi’s response.​

 

[Hisashi]

P R E S E R V E​

T A G : Saraya Arenais

The room came to a screeching halt.

The servants. The droids. The response to the death of the previous monarch. All hung in an uneasy silence as the heir apparent...no...as the new Queen raised her voice. In the moments prior, she had settled upon the edge of her bed. As if all the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs. The shinobi knew the feeling well. If he had to guess, her stomach was knotted in every which way. She might have felt like the weight of the world now rested firmly upon her shoulders. Yet. Now was not the time to be sucked into dismay. They needed action. They needed to get as far away from Naboo. They needed-

No. She disagreed. She questioned where before she would have followed.

She knew his tone. She knew that he would only command like this if he was certain that peril was on the horizon. Yet, despite this...despite the numerous times that he had ensured that she kept drawing breath, she chose now to question him? Hisashi fixed his jaw, nostrils flaring for but a moment. How could she not see? How could she not understand? One would think that, after all those times he had drilled survival into her skull, that she would think otherwise. Yet, here they were. And thus, as she rose from her seat and faced him, she would see the steel in his eyes.

"Thugs, I can handle. The Underworld, I can handle. I'll die handling them to keep you safe." he began. As the words thundered from his lips, a touch higher than he would have liked, he took a bold step forward. "I can protect you from people like me. But for this? A Queen dropping dead? Do you even know the amount of power it would take to pull something like this off? On the Capital no less?" He hated it. The Sin of Pride yet defined his core - and in this moment, he had to face the reality. He had faced literal titans on Mechis III. Fought every manner of underworld scum and enforcer.

But this was beyond the scope of one man. And, in truth, beyond the scope of one young girl. Roon held the key. Roon held the support they'd need to get out of this alive - even though the thought made him want to tongue-kark the business end of a shotgun.

"We go there now...We won't know who to trust. Who is for you, and who has a knife for your back. Roon...the Obsidians. I was among their ranks at one time. They are mighty and trustworthy. With them, I can keep you safe - at least until we know how the Queen died."

His arms came to fold upon his chest. "I won't have Naboo staring at the corpses of two dead Queens. Understand?"

​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

O B J E C T I V E​

Tag: Hisashi

There were no words to do this kind of situation justice, but for the meanwhile, sticky seemed to fit perfectly. Trying to wade through it felt like trying to swim through bacta.

Without even needing to stare at him to confirm, Mila could feel the heat of Hisashi’s gaze. She watched as his nostrils flared, as the skin around his jaw tightened. For a brief moment, Mila regretted even bothering arguing the point. The situation was already tense enough without having to deal with a furious Hisashi, but as he began to speak…

The penny dropped.

He wasn’t just trying to do what her father had paid him to do. His thoughts mirrored that of everyone's in the room. That of the entirety of Naboo.

Hisashi was afraid.

It didn’t suit him. She was much more accustomed to experiencing the personality gilded in iron. The one that didn’t back down no matter what tight spot they had found themselves in. This wasn’t what Hisashi was supposed to say. He was supposed to say fine. He was supposed to say I’ll handle it. The young Queen lifted both hands, to shield her eyes from the blinding morning sunlight. Mila knew it was just the flurry of activity and tension in the room that made everything feel so confusing, but it didn’t help.

Much like everyone, Mila had a healthy fear of death. Even if the sensible side of her knew that the threat was unfounded, that there was no chance of her life being cut short like her predecessors… The fear was there. No doubt largely in thanks to the less than subtle admission by Hisashi. She finally revealed her face again as she spoke. “Fine…” Gritting her teeth just enough to show it in her cheeks, Mila nodded her head. “I understand.” She had no more reasons to throw at him.

Before she had even managed to finish the words, the chaos of packing began again. Servants dashed back and forth, stiff and mechanical in the way they went about their tasks like cog work toys wound up far too tightly.

A slip of a thing piled high with a selection of Mila’s dresses passed by in a flurry. Mila would have ignored her entirely; she was far too busy trying to gain further insight into this strange and unknown side of Hisashi. Were it not for the flash of scarlet that caught her gaze. Reaching her hand out for the girl’s wrist to pull her to a dead stop, her gaze on his tense expression held firm. “Put that back.” The flushed servant looked down, scanning the pile of clothes desperately to try and figure out what Mila was talking about. It was quite a shame; the crimson dress had been a gift from her father. One of her favourites. Much like the other dresses gifted to her by her sire, it had become rather like armour, but no matter.

“The entirety of Naboo is in mourning now. Black.” For a moment, it seemed as though she had finished, but before she released the girl… “Please.” She spoke with haste, though she still managed to sound polite enough to keep up appearances.

That was more important now than it had ever been.​

 

[Hisashi]

P R O T E C T​

Tag: Saraya Arenais​

​

Fear was a Weapon.

Hisashi was no stranger to terror, for it had been one of the many tools in his arsenal. Decades prior, on those blood-soaked grounds, they had called him a Hound of War. A Demon. All other manner of monstrous mantle to disparage his being a man from his being a beast. Why? Because his ferocity bid them so. He wormed into their minds, long before the battle began. And lived up to his reputation with every swing of his sword. It was for this reason that the admission to the young woman had set his stomach ablaze.

Terror was a sword and it was now piercing his gut.

To stare his limitations in the face was a feat that men would typically applaud. Yet, in the case of the Warrior, he wanted to spit in his own eye. The situation demanded that Pride and Bravado were left at the door; but to accept his current state of being was another matter entirely. There should not have been a reality where he could not handle it. But that would be a matter for another time. Right now, keeping the woman before his gaze alive took priority. Right now, they had to get to Roon - they had to get to backup.

Mila raised her hands, shielding her eyes from the sun. Shielding her eyes from the weakness standing before her. He watched as her teeth clenched behind her cheeks, watched as the gears turned in her mind. He loathed every second of it. Loathed the fact that a crown would settle upon her head and turn his world upside down. The smart move, at least according to men of his ilk, would have been to cut and run. To take the small fortune he had amassed thus far and move across the stars. Some noble wasn't his problem, and honor only existed to get rich sons murdered.

But he couldn't. He was too Proud. And, above all, she was...

Special.

At long last she lowered he hands and accepted his direction. The room erupted into a frenzy as the servants began to pack. She halted one, steering the motions of all with her words. Black would be the primary color, for they were in a time of mourning. That was very much so not a Hisashi problem, and thus he set about making sure they had friendly faces waiting on the other side. He reached into his pocket and produced his personal comm, flipped the device open, and settled it upon his ear. The chime of the HoloNet connection heralded the voice of a former superior.

"Lord Commander, pardon the intrusion." he began, before hastily explaining the situation. There was not a reality where the Knighthood would not defend a notable member of the Confederacy - let alone the new Queen of their Capital - and thus Kyyrk gave clearance. Preparations would be made as they traveled. Roon would be safe and waiting for their arrival. And, before ending the contact, the Warrior added: "I appreciate this old friend. Together, we'll find out what the feth happened to the Queen."

And in doing so, rule out if foul play had occurred - or if the passing was natural. Hisashi strongly believed in the former. With the matter at hand concluded, Hisashi turned to face his charge. A hefty sigh escaped him. Reaching, he placed a hand upon her shoulder and gave a light squeeze. "Thank you." he began. For trusting me. "It'll be just like Gobra the Hutt when we're done. A couple days of inconvenience before back to normal. Alright?"

But what would normal even look like when she was Queen?​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

O B J E C T I V E​

Tag: Hisashi​

​

Lord Commander.

Mila had not yet had the pleasure of meeting the Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian, nor could she claim she knew much about the sect of force users. Yet, if Hisashi knew him. If Hisashi trusted him, so too did Mila. Still, she wondered why on Naboo Hisashi felt safer on Roon than he did here. In their home. He knew this place like the back of his hand, as far as she was aware, he hadn’t been back to Roon for a good while. Still, she couldn’t complain. All this meant Hisashi was doing the job her father had paid him to do, but she had never expected anything different of him.

The hand Hisashi placed on her shoulder would have ordinarily been shrugged off, for several reasons. Mila did not enjoy being touched by anyone, not in the least by the man who had slain her father, but today… she allowed it. The weight of it against her skin was comforting. It grounded her. That was, until, he spoke again.

“Nothing is going to be normal anymore, Hisashi.” Though she was certain tomorrow she would feel much different about her new position, she couldn’t help the tone of dread in her voice as she spoke. "Not for you or for me." It wasn’t just dread that made a home in her ordinarily honied tone, it was fear too. Fear that mirrored Hisashi’s, fear that mirrored Naboo’s. The weight of her responsibility had sunk heavily onto her shoulders, so heavily that for some reason her legs found it difficult to stay steady. She stepped back, once again searching for the comfort and solidity of her feather mattress. When she reached it, she flopped down on it, for once lacking the grace and decorum one expected from a Queen.

The air felt thick and unbearably hot. Like every breath, she took singed her lungs with soupy black smoke. The words Hisashi had spoken swam around her mind, playing his fear back to her in an eternal loop. It would be the last time she allowed something that shocked her to the core to show plainly on her face. It would be the last time she allowed weakness to slip through the cracks.

“Someone contact the council and inform them of our plans, tell them I’ll call them from the ship.” She finally spoke again, standing with no shortage of determination. Mila could no longer afford to wallow in her own self-pity, nor could she afford to be afraid. Afraid was for the Queensguard, afraid was for the people on the streets who watch the turmoil unfolding. Afraid was not for the monarch.

Her gaze settled on Hisashi. To whom she offered a rare, if a little awkward, smile. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”​

 

[Hisashi]

S U R V I V E​

T A G :

Nothing is going to be normal anymore, Hisashi.

In a sense, nothing had been normal since the day he ran her father through. Hisashi had been a mongrel born and bred for bloodshed. It was in his bones. It was what he was meant to be. The mantle of protector, therefore, fit him as ill as two left shoes. Nonetheless, the challenge was made bearable - for the object of his defense was quite agreeable. Yet, regardless of Mila's personality, she was indeed true in what she had spoken. Since that day, nothing had been the same. And from this day, nothing would be the same for her. They would simply have to adjust to the new reality, one day at a time. As the new monarch turned away, finding solace in a plop upon the bed, Hisashi's arms folded across his chest.

"Fair enough." he agreed. "Things will be better than normal once we're done."

Though the unease in the pit of his stomach yet persisted, he had to at least sound as though he believed the bullchit he spewed. In this moment, he did just that. He had no idea just who or what was responsible for the monarch's demise - but now they had a plan. Roon it would be. With it, the strength of a thousand warriors. It did not take long for Mila to rise from her bed and to speak with her own resolve. The doubt and fear had seemingly been left in the comforter. A Queen had risen from the bed. Good. She would need that resolve to survive the storms that laid ahead. Her order was given and was promptly carried out - one of the attendants scurried off to make the call.

Then, she smiled. His lips matched hers immediately. "Off we go."

***​

The voyage to Roon occurred without incident. Packing the ship and diving into hyperspace was the most nerve-wracking part of the operation; especially since Mila had insisted on letting the Council know their plans before they were inbound. Yet, despite this, they arrived with no incident. The Knighthood was waiting to receive them and aided the attendants in unloading the vessel. For the new monarch, an executive suite in the East Wing had been selected. Hisashi would have much prefered to tarry in his own, simple quarters - but duty demanded that he make this luxurious space his own for the time being. The suite was large enough to bed three full families, there was more than enough room for both to have comfort and privacy throughout the duration of their stay.

Once they were settled in, Hisashi found himself leaning on the doorframe of Mila's space. His gaze was upon the woman, who was now wrapping up a holo-conference of sorts with the Counci. He was silent, as decorum demanded, until the communications ceased. "Do you have a pair of comfortable shoes?" he inquired. "I've something to show you." Whilst he awaited her response, he stuffed his mouth full of an apple slice and munched unceremoniously. She was the monarch - he was the furthest thing from nobility.

​