Q ᴜ ᴇ ᴇ ɴ
L O C A T I O N | Theed, Naboo
W E A R I N G | [x]
T A G S |
Talak Jenste

The energy on Theed was nothing to Mila, at first. A mere consequence of necessary action. Irritating though it began to grow, it was needed. Naboo needed to mourn. It needed to remember, as did her people. It just seemed such a shame that her reign had begun with such tragedy. Naboo would not soon forget its almost Queen Karia, and that meant they would not soon consider Mila as a suitable replacement.
Sharp jolting taps invaded her ears as Mila swept down to the corridor toward the throne room. This would be the first time she’d seen it since the untimely death of her predecessor. The first time she would enter it as Queen. It was almost enough to draw her short of the gilded double doors, to turn around and walk away entirely, but Mila was stronger than she allowed herself to appear. With the flat of her shoulder, she pushed the doors open, allowing a flood of bright sunlight streaming through the windows in the throne room to fill the dim corridor.
From the outset, it was unassuming. A large, plain room with nought but a few chairs and a throne in the centre, but the power it possessed. The respect it commanded. The sheer responsibility that this room alone held… it was enough to crumble any great man.
Fortunately for Mila, she was not a man. Nor did she consider herself great. Not yet. But still the throne room somehow managed to make her feel like an ant at the foot of a mountain. It filled her with the same dread too. How could she ever hope to fill it? How could she ever hope to make her mark on the world, as others did before her? Slipping by the doors, Mila felt as though the pressure in the room tripled as they shut behind her. It was as though the doors had been shut to a part of her she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to yet.
Mila the Princess. Mila the second best. Mila the almost Queen.
The young woman approached her throne. Cautiously. As though it were a dog on its hind legs, baring its teeth in an aggressive display. What a fool you look. Frightened of a chair. Mila’s voice was cruel in her own head. Brutal, if one was looking for a better-suited word to describe it. Brutal, but motivational. She finally strode forward, each step that drew her closer to the throne more confident than the last. But…
Something stopped her. At the edge of the throne, where she could simply reach out and touch the cool stone it was carved from, Mila stopped.
“Violet!” The young Queen’s voice echoed loudly off the marble walls, back and forth. A perfect imitation of the sweet, naïve tones she spoke in. The scuffle of someone’s feet against polished floors followed quickly until the bright and cheery face of a young woman appeared from behind the double doors. “Yes, Your Majesty?” Mila managed to coerce a smile onto her face. The same smile she would have flashed a bustling crowd or a gathering of the council. The one she wore that hid the darkness beneath. “Do you happen to know where Talak is?”
The young servant shrugged her shoulders lightly, though not in a disrespectful way. "I'm afraid not, ma'am." Mila sighed a little. It wasn't loud enough to be heard, but her refusal to take her gaze off the throne spoke volumes. “Would you be so kind as to find him for me?” Before the sentence had even been drawn to a conclusion, the young girl had dashed off to do her mistresses bidding.