Amne awoke in the early morning, feeling as if she were still in unfamiliar surroundings. Instead of being comforted by the same things that she had seen for the last ten years, she found herself wondering why she felt trapped in her own home.
Even at 0700, Sheev’s side of the bed was empty. She could not clearly remember whether or not he had been there when she went to sleep. She barely recalled how Delani had treated her as a fragile work of art when helping her into her nightgown. Her clearest memory of the time spent in the mansion last night was how each embrace seemed to last for hours instead of minutes. It was the first time since her maternal grandmother's funeral that she had seen either of her parents in tears and even Jes had held on as if they had not seen each other in over a decade.
They had understandingly sent her straight to bed once they had ensured that she was, in fact, still alive. Now, Amne lay in bed, waiting for enough energy to face the day. She watched ten minutes expire on the chrono before even attempting to stand. Strangely enough, her limbs responded when she attempted to stand and, as if on auto-pilot, she was able to make her way to the 'fresher.
She did not bother to look into the mirror, but kept her eyes downcast as she washed her face and hands methodically. Her groping hand found her robe on the hook behind the door and she pulled it on, cinching it out of habit just under her breasts so that it would not have to reach around the bulge of her abdomen. Instead, the belt slid downward and she retied it with her eyes squeezed shut. The simple reminder of what she had lost had sapped her of her strength almost immediately and she rested against the wall for another minute, not sure what she was waiting for. She felt almost numb, perhaps because she had expended all of her ability to feel pain in the last few days. Her body was reacting by instinct to what her mind should have acknowledged.
Finally, she straightened and reached for her hairbrush. She pulled it through the sleep-tangles until her hair was smooth, and then braided it and doubled it up. It was the traditional Alderaanian mourning style and the only thing that she could deem appropriate for the day.
The guard complement at the door was usually two, but today, there were four waiting when she attempted to sneak out of her quarters. Immediately, one raised a commlink to his lips and thumbed it on.
“You asked to be informed when Lady Palpatine was awake,” he said formally.
Amne ignored him and turned to Fand, the only one she recognized out of the detail. “Where is the Chancellor?”
“He was called to an early meeting,” Fand said immediately. “He may be able to return before the 0900 Senate session convenes.”
Then the person who had been alerted was not Sheev. She was about to ask who else had remained from last night when a door far down the hall opened and Delani hurried to her side. She looked her over quickly as only a mother could, appraising the situation in a single glance.
“You've been asleep for nearly ten hours,” Delani said. “We weren't going to wake you until you were ready.”
“Apparently, my body thinks I'm ready,” Amne countered flatly. “Don't you have a family to look after?”
“Yes,” Delani agreed, “and you're part of it. Do you want to eat in your quarters or the kitchen?”
“Kitchen,” Amne said automatically. She turned and intertwined her arm with Delani's. “Who else is here?”
“Jes had to work last night so she could be here today,” Delani pointed out. “Your sister went back to her apartment around midnight, but your mother's still asleep. She and your father took it upon themselves to make the burial arrangements before he went home with Vali.”
Burial, not funeral. Of course there would be no need for a funeral. Amne, the one who had carried her children for six months, was the only one who had the kind of connection with them that would merit a proper memorial service. Delani seemed to sense where her thoughts were headed and tightened her grip on her hand.
“If you'd prefer to make some changes, we can,” she assured Amne. “For now, they're to be buried in the family plot on Naboo.”
It was the traditional place, of course. Sheev’s family had been interred there for the last ten generations. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of having her only children buried in a place where she could not visit every day if the need arose. Then again, that might be a good idea. She would have to consider it when the loss was not so terribly near.
“Thank you for staying,” Amne said at last.
Her friend turned her face just far enough so that Amne could see a half-hearted smile beneath the haunted eyes she remembered from last night. “I couldn't leave you. I'm the only one around here who knows some of what you're going through.”
Delani had been married only five months when she announced she was expecting her first child. Two and a half months into the pregnancy, however, she had lost the child through no fault of her own. Amne had not even remembered that fact until now.
“We have only one thing scheduled for the day,” Delani informed her. “Your medic wants to examine you. The press is being held off with the assurances that you are expected to make a full recovery.”
“And they're believing that?” Amne rejoined.
“We all do.”
Except the patient.
She was not aware that she had spoken that aloud until Delani responded. “A full physical recovery,” she amended. “The emotional healing is something that will never quite end.”
That was precisely what she was afraid of.
“Zia, Uli and Amia are going to meet with the Council today,” Delani added. “Their mission to rescue you is officially over, but your security detail thinks it might be wise to keep a team of Jedi assigned to you for the time being. What happened to you shows that they need to revise your protection and Zia thinks going back to what you had when Sheev was first elected is a wise idea.”
Amne nodded in agreement. “What's the standard procedure after something like this has happened?”
Delani's breath hitched a little, but she sighed quietly before replying. “Nothing like this has happened before,” she pointed out. “Assassinations and attempts have happened many times in the past and the Chancellor's personal shuttle was once hijacked, but no one has ever successfully captured a member of the First Family.”
Amne had not considered such things when Sheev took office. She had wanted to keep herself as ignorant of such dangers as possible because she felt it would make her jump at shadows. She would always be expecting something to go wrong, when that was not her duty.
The greatest danger they had faced had been nine months ago, when several assassins had made an attempt on Sheev’s life at a conference on Mon Calamari. Sheev had gotten out unscathed, but six civilians had died and several others had been injured, including Amne herself. She had been standing closest to her husband when the first shots were fired and had been shot in the back before the guards could put themselves between the assassins and the targets. The guards had taken out all but one of the assassins inside of a minute and the survivor had claimed that Amne had just been blocking his shot and had to be eliminated. Maybe that was why she had been captured this time in the first place—with her gone, Sheev was much more vulnerable.
“Hey.” Delani propelled her through the door to the kitchen, then turned to look directly at her. “What do you want to eat?”
It would do no good to protest that she was not hungry. Delani would report that to the medic and it was not Amne's place to resist making a full recovery. She'd learned that much at Mon Calamari.
“Whatever you're having,” she muttered.
The sun had finally risen by the time Delani finished with the eggs and nausage. A steward saw to it that Amne had fresh julaberry juice at her fingertips. Except for the servants, it almost exactly matched their favorite meal from their university days and there was a strange kind of comfort in such a familiar thing.
“Vali and Michel finally set a date while you were gone,” Delani said conversationally. “It gave them something to look forward to.”
Of course. They were either hoping she would be back by then or hoping they would go on with the wedding in spite of her loss. She was not entirely comforted by the fact, but probably would have been more dismayed to find out they had put everything on hold in case she was never returned.
“When is it?”
“Four weeks to the day after the Inauguration,” she supplied. “They thought it wouldn't be fair to throw too much at Michel at once.”
“Five weeks from now, then,” Amne recalled. “Good.”
“You'll have enough time to find a gown,” Delani agreed.
She had found a suitable gown two days before her capture, but the tailor had cut it as something she could grow into. Most of her current clothing was designed for that purpose, since no one could have anticipated that any of this would happen.
“I'll help, of course,” she added.
“I thought you might,” Amne said, attempting a smile.
Fand approached again, but this time, his expression was grim. “Milady,” he greeted, “your husband called to say that he will not be coming home before the session. He has an urgent meeting that he must attend to.”
It had been quite some time since he felt the need to explain himself to her, but for now, Sheev was obviously trying to treat her with care. It was something she could appreciate for a very limited time.
“Thank you,” Amne said graciously, her strained smile still in place. “Might you find out if he would be available for lunch?”
He glanced at the food that still sat untouched on her plate, but nodded. “I'll see to it, milady.”
Delani sat with a slightly strained expression as Amne made her first attempt at forcing down some food. Amne succeeded in eating three bites before her friend spoke again.
“You don't have to do that,” she pointed out. “No one expects you to recover quickly.”
Amne wanted to retort that she had made her first public appearance one day after being removed from bacta the last time and that she was capable of gauging her own readiness. Instead, she swallowed a fourth bite and set down her fork.
“I'm not recovering quickly,” she said. “I want to see my husband.”
“Have you seen yourself?” Delani asked pointedly.
Her hand clenched out of habit so that she would not raise her voice in frustration. “I have not,” she replied. “I don't want to look myself in the eyes.”
Delani did not respond to that, but her hand covered Amne's a moment later. “Do you think it will do you some good to go out?” she asked more tactfully.
“I don't know,” Amne admitted, “but I was trapped in the same room for over a month. I have to get out.”
Her friend studied her for a long moment, lips pressed together in a maternally disapproving frown; she finally nodded. “All right,” she conceded. “Do you want to go anywhere else while you're out?”
“I want to meet the people who rescued me,” Amne said firmly. “I never knew their names, much less why they changed their minds.”
******
With some effort, Delani managed to find something in Amne's closet that was both green and from the time when she still had a waistline. Amne risked a glance in the mirror as she was adjusting the hang of the dress, but found that she looked just as haunted and hollow as the last time. She did not look again.
Neither Sheev nor a member of his staff had replied by the time she was ready to leave, but the Senate session had started by then. She would probably receive a confirmation or his apologies about halfway through.
They left the Chancellery through the private vehicles hangar, but there was no such provision at the medcenter. The wan, mostly-weary smile that she managed for the holoshills was more broad than the one she had given Delani, but much less genuine. Fortunately, her guards saw to it that she was inside before she gave in to the urge to speak to anyone.
Fand had called ahead to make sure she would be able to visit the rescuers. The rooms were not hard to find—it was a private hospital and few of the patients had armed security outside their door. The man she only vaguely remembered from the confused rescue was still asleep, so they moved on to the room of the woman. Amne had no memory of her before the rescue, but she had stayed with Amne until someone who was not an enemy of the state could come to her.
The woman looked up from her readerchip as soon as Amne entered and their smiles seemed to match. “I wasn't sure I would ever see you in person again,” she admitted. “The guards wouldn't tell me what was happening and they seem to think if I changed my loyalties once, there's no reason I couldn't do it again.”
“It's a common school of thought,” Amne confirmed. “I have my own. Whether or not you're on our side, I owe you my gratitude. For that, I wanted to come.”
The woman's smile stretched a little farther and she relaxed almost imperceptibly. “Please sit,” she requested.
“Not until I know your name,” Amne insisted.
“Celva Antilles,” the other woman responded.
Amne extended a hand in greeting and remembered the feel of the other woman's palm through the first horrifying hours of the ordeal. It had been calloused in places, but she had a firm grip which had helped to focus Amne. It was fortunate that she had never seen Celva during her actual time in captivity because she might not have trusted her with her escape otherwise.
“Of the Alderaanian Antilles or the Corellian?”
Celva lowered her eyes, ashamed. “Alderaanian,” she murmured.
Amne's mother had been an Antilles before marrying, so it was possible they were somehow related. “Alderaan is privileged to have you,” she said quietly. “There are too few people with real courage in the Galaxy.”
“Yes,” Celva retorted. “I was courageous enough to hold an innocent woman hostage for five weeks.”
“You were courageous enough to set her free,” Amne countered. “In the end, I will count that in your favor.”
The other woman regarded her as if this was some kind of trick instead of a demonstration of trust. “Do you think the courts will?”
It was a valid question. There were undoubtedly severe punishments for attacks on the Chancellor or his family. Even with the rescue, she could be facing significant prison time.
“If I have anything to say about it,” Amne assured her. “What changed your mind?”
Celva frowned. “The rules of the game changed,” she explained. “I was brought in because I had skills as a slicer and because my loyalties were with the highest bidder instead of a specific government. No one said we would be harming you and when they decided to destroy the hospital ...” She shook her head. “Doc was the one who opposed what we were doing from the start, but Edev and I started to agree with him after that.”
“Milady.”
Amne looked up to see Denner in the doorway, her jaw set in a hard line. It was an expression that invited no argument and she knew instinctively to move first and ask questions later.
“If you'll excuse me for a moment,” Amne said politely.
She followed Denner without waiting for an update, but the other woman led her to an unoccupied room at the end of the corridor. Fand was there, conversing quietly over commlink. He glanced at her for a moment, and turned away to finish the conversation. Something in her chest tightened, but out of habit, she waited for him to speak first.
“We need to move you in a few minutes,” Fand said flatly. “The Chancellor will be joining you immediately after he has spoken to the Senate.”
Half a dozen different fears assaulted her mind before she took her next breath, all of them related to the possibility that her captors had been able to regroup and attack within a matter of days. Then she remembered the Separatist threats from the meeting with Dooku and his Neimodian ally.
Either way, the guards were dealing with this with the efficient apathy that she associated with the assassination attempt on Mon Calamari. Something equally disastrous must have happened. Her knees buckled, but Fand caught her by the elbow and guided her to the lone bed in the room. After a moment, the room stopped spinning, but the sick feeling remained in the pit of her stomach.
“What happened?” she demanded hoarsely.
“Senator Amidala's ship exploded very shortly after her return to Coruscant,” Denner explained. “The Senator and several of her bodyguards were killed.”
In terms of numbers, it mirrored her capture, but then again, it was common for guards to be caught in the line of fire when an assassination took place. The last time, they had been willing to take prisoners; this time, they had apparently learned their lesson.
“Stars,” Amne breathed. “How long ago?”
“Five minutes,” she responded. “We don't know yet how it happened, but if this was a successful attempt on the Senator's life, this is the second attack on a senior Naboo official since the Chancellor was re-elected.”
That meant her capture and imprisonment might be only the first in a series of many such assaults. It was horrific enough that she and her children had been targeted, but if Celva's employers were determined to do as much damage as possible before being caught or stopped ...
“And it is the second attack on those most closely associated with the Chancellor,” she remembered. “Sheev was the Senator's representative for her entire reign as Queen.”
“Yes, milady,” Fand agreed grimly. “The investigators are taking that into consideration. The Senate Guard immediately doubled the protection for the entire Naboo delegation.”
Another guard whose face she did not recognize appeared in the doorway. “The speeder has been searched and CoMun has three routes to the Chancellery Mansion secured,” he informed Fand. “We're ready to move when you are.”
The Coruscant Municipal Constabulary traditionally had the itinerary of both the Chancellor and the First Lady at the beginning of each day so that they would know which routes to secure at a moment's notice. Since it had been only ten minutes since she arrived at the hospital, the effort of re-securing the pathway home would have been a simple procedure.
“Please have someone pass my regrets to Celva Antilles,” Amne requested.
Fand's expression suggested that she had forgotten herself completely. “We will, milady,” he assured her. “Just as soon as we make sure she knew nothing about this.”
*****
The mansion was under lock-down for the remainder of the day. It meant there were no incoming or outgoing visitors and all incoming comms were screened first by the guard. Outgoing calls had to be approved in advance and all appointments were canceled until further notice.
Delani had left to pick up Isi from school and look in on the rest of the family rather than sequester herself in the mansion. Amne could not have expected anything more of her, since Delani had already neglected the others, but it made for a very lonely lockdown.
Since the Holonet broadcasts were cut off and they were under comm silence, she was unable to find out anything more on the attack this morning. It was a given that, if there were a direct threat to the Chancellery mansion, she would be moved in short order, but there was no way of gaining an update.
It was afternoon before Sheev arrived at the mansion, looking exhausted, but accompanied by Zia and Uli. He presented them as if displaying a generous gift.
“Given the current crisis, the Council had no qualms about granting the request for your Jedi protection to remain in place,” he announced. “Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker will be acting in a similar capacity for the very fortunate Senator Amidala.”
Amne breathed in sharply. “She survived?”
“Much in the same way she did ten years ago,” Sheev confirmed with a wan smile that did nothing to erase the shadows from his eyes. “A decoy traveled in her place while she flew escort to the consular ship.”
The embrace that she gave him was, selfishly, one for her own benefit. She needed to feel something familiar in her arms and to anchor herself to someone constant. Sheev, for his part, seemed to neither accept nor appreciate it, but he may have simply had other things on his mind. They parted after a moment, neither satisfied with the attempt at affection.
“I'm glad that we have not lost her,” Amne said quietly. “I know how fond you have grown of her.”
He nodded almost absentmindedly and rewarded her efforts with a kiss on the cheek that felt less distracted than before. “I apologize that I did not return sooner,” he said flatly, “but I was in meetings with the Jedi Council and the Loyalist Committee. They were both concerns that could not be held off until the crisis was past.”
He offered her an arm as an invitation to take the conversation to a less public place. Instead of retreating to their quarters or his private office, they ended up in the second floor's northeast sitting room. Sheev settled Amne on one of the longer couches and then went to fix himself a drink.
“Don't you think it's early in the day ...” she started.
“It is customary to salute the fallen,” Sheev interrupted. “I have no intention of doing something more drastic than that.”
He offered around a glass of brandy to Amne, Zia, and Uli, and no one had the ill manners to refuse. Instead, they all stood in the mourners' circle and raised their glasses.
“To those who chose to fall in the service of justice,” Sheev announced, “and those who were never given such a choice.”
It was a toast with little emotion and even less compassion in it, but it was what she had come to expect. A man in Sheev’s position could not afford to show public weakness. Still, this was hardly a public setting, and he had not resembled the man she fell in love with at any time in the last several days. She could drink in agreement with his salute, but she could not meet his eyes.
“Has anyone taken credit?” she asked with as little emotion as he had displayed.
“No one,” Sheev replied. “Conversely, none of the usual suspects has been eager to denounce the act.”
She shook her head. “Did we expect them to?”
“Well, it would make it quite easy to identify our real enemies,” he reminded her. “Dooku and his compatriots, however, have been known to take things slowly. I would be concerned that he was going soft if he took this opportunity to declare outright war.”
His statement sounded more like a sound bite from a press briefing than a reassurance, but she nodded. “Will you be here for the rest of the evening?” she asked politely.
He grimaced. “Unfortunately, that will not be possible. My schedule was inconvenienced as well by the crisis and there are many more matters that I must attend to. I simply wanted to look in on you and apologize for my inattentiveness.”
“It's all right,” Amne said quickly. “It has been a difficult day for all of us.”
He took her face in his hands, kissing her as if by habit. It felt as if he were doing it by rote because that was what a husband ought to do, rather than because he actually loved her. For the first time in a while, she was the first to pull away.
“You had better be going,” she said quietly. “I'll be fine here.”
He did not argue with her assessment, only left her with another kiss on her cheek and an apologetic smile. She felt inexplicably relieved when his guards closed the door behind them. Without waiting for someone else to speak first, she turned quickly to Zia and Uli.
“Thank you for coming on short notice,” she said formally. “You'll be staying in the same rooms as before.”
“Thank you,” Zia said with equal composure. “I think it would be best if we spoke to the mansion's head of security and your detail coordinator first.”
They headed deeper into the mansion, but she still could not understand what about her husband had made her so uncomfortable.
*****
The nightmares did not surprise her at first. Even though the media had honored Sheev’s request to leave Amne alone, there had been debriefings to perform. She had hesitated to recall the weeks of captivity, but in the wake of the assassination attempt on Senator Amidala, Republic Intelligence was not inclined to listen to anything Celva or Edev had to say. That left her as the only reliable witness to where her captors might have gone or who might have hired them.
The interrogators were not brutal by any means in their questioning, but they were thorough, and they thought any truth bore repeating. When she dreamed of faceless terrors and phantom menaces, she blamed it on the debriefings and the attack on Padme Amidala. The attack on another of Sheev’s friends left her feeling shaken and helpless and that did not help her state of mind in the slightest.
No one spoke to her about the fact that she woke up screaming each night. By the end of the second night, guards no longer came in to check on her each time that happened. Sheev was there more often than not, but there was little he could do; on the other hand, he was more tolerant of her night terrors than the guards.
They were due to leave for Naboo the day after the assassination attempt on Padme Amidala, but Sheev was gone by the time she awoke again. That was typical of every political crisis in the last three years and it meant that either the damage from the attempt was not contained or that something else related to the Separatist movement had arisen.
Uli stood as she left the suite. “Good morning, milady,” she said.
“Good morning,” she said as genially as possible. “When did my husband pass this way?”
“Four hours ago,” Uli informed her. “The guards came for him shortly before that.”
He had left before daybreak and, if she recalled correctly, less than half an hour after she had last been awakened by a nightmare. At least it had not been by his own choice.
“Thank you.”
“Master Marakesh wanted me to tell you that Elusha commed this morning. She wants to know if you can meet with her at 1030 to talk about a press release.”
That gave her an hour and a half before she would have to leave the house. “What time is my appointment with the medics?”
“1430,” one of the guards supplied.
Amne nodded. It was the last thing to be done before they were to leave for Naboo and there was nothing else currently scheduled for the day.
“I will meet with her at her office,” she informed Uli.
“At the Senate building,” the younger girl clarified.
“I need to have some time outside the house,” Amne explained quietly. “There are few places as well-secured as the Senate.”
“Yes, milady,” Uli responded.
Amne arrived at the Senate building at 1025, when the session was in full stride and no one but a few scattered aides and the usual complement of guards were in the corridors. That meant that there were few staring eyes and even fewer greetings.
Elusha was not usually the demonstrative type, but she pulled Amne into a firm embrace as soon as she entered the room. “I'm so glad that all my claims that we would get you back were right,” she murmured.
“Me, too,” Amne responded thickly.
She pulled back and managed a tight smile. “Thank you for what you did.”
Elusha frowned. “What I did?”
“My captors would bring me recordings of your press briefings among other things,” Amne stated. “You kept them from encouraging the story that I had defected. You defended the Chancellor and myself when it must have been difficult. At times, the only reason I believed I would survive that was because you believed it so strongly youtself.”
She did not mention that Elusha's face had also been a barometer for the success of the manhunt. She had never been able to disclose the details, but Amne had been able to see at least whether things were going well or if they had suffered a setback.
“I can't say that I never doubted you would return,” Elusha said, gesturing towards the guest's chair, “but for the Chancellor's sake as well as my own, I had to believe it. I'm glad it did some good.”
Amne took the offered seat and smoothed her skirt, composing herself before she went any further. Elusha mimicked the action, but waited for her to speak first. Her expression was concerned, as if neither of them were entirely sure why they were here.
“You wanted to see me about a press release,” Amne prompted at last.
That seemed to focus her again. “Yes,” she sighed. “As you can imagine, there are many questions from the press, both about what has gone before and what is to come. I have been fielding most of those and letting my staff at the CPO handle the rest, but I wanted to offer you the opportunity to speak to the public.”
“I would like to,” Amne admitted, “but not until after the burial. Possibly not until after the inauguration.”
“Are you planning to attend?”
“Of course,” Amne said immediately. “I will attend this as I have the last two times. It is my duty and privilege as his wife.”
The press secretary grimaced at that. “That did not sound very convincing,” she said flatly.
“Who do I need to convince?” Amne countered. “I am going to the inauguration because I swore to stand beside him in trials and on joyful occasions. This represents a bit of both. I am also going because life goes on, because I can't linger on what has been done to me.”
Amne was not convinced at all by her own speech, and from the expression on Elusha's face, neither was she. Fortunately, the press secretary was too well-trained to make any mention of that.
“And you intend to say that to the press.”
“No,” Amne corrected. “It's what I tell myself so that I can resist the urge to go into hiding on Alderaan.”
“I have the same urge,” Elusha commented. “What would you like to say to the press?”
“I would like to say that I am grateful to the men and women who worked so tirelessly to find me and effect my rescue,” she said after a long pause for contemplation. “I will thank them for their condolences on our loss. I want to answer no more than ten questions after a brief statement that I will draft with Michel.”
“I think that can be arranged,” the other woman assured her. “I also think it would be wise to do it before the inauguration.”
She was less sanguine about that option, but it was not yet set in stone. “We will be returning from Naboo the day after tomorrow,” Amne informed Elusha. “Please relay the date and time of the conference to Nena.”
“I will,” Elusha promised. “Thank you for coming in.”
“Thank you,” Amne echoed.
Fand and Semlit were still at attention outside the door, but Semlit fell into step with her as soon as she left the room.
“The Chancellor heard that you were in the building and would like to see you before the session reconvenes,” he informed her.
“We have plenty of time,” Amne conceded. “Lead on.”
Sheev’s office was usually sealed off, but the guards at the entrance let her pass without comment. He had either anticipated that she would agree to come here before returning home or was not in a meeting. On the contrary, she could hear voices as she passed through the atrium.
“And so,” Sheev was saying with all of the excitement of a child on Life Day, “they've finally given you an assignment. Your patience has paid off.”
“Your guidance more than my patience,” his guest replied drily.
She recognized the young man immediately by his voice and build, though she could have sworn that he had grown another few inches since she last saw him. Anakin Skywalker seemed to have replaced her as Sheev’s pet project, and it was not unusual to find him here, with or without his master. Today's visit seemed to fall into the latter category.
“You don't need guidance,” Sheev said calmly. “In time, you will learn to trust your feelings. Then, you will be invincible.”
Amne retreated to the atrium, since she had obviously interrupted a private conversation. Sheev had invited her here, but she had always respected his friendship with the Jedi. She could wait. Unfortunately, the two men seemed to be heading in her direction and the conversation carried.
“I have said it many times,” Sheev continued. “You are the most gifted Jedi I have ever met.”
It was high praise from the leader of the Republic, but Anakin had heard it enough not to be impressed with the compliment. He simply took it as a reaffirmation of the Chancellor's faith in him.
“Thank you, Your Excellency.”
“I foresee that you will become the greatest of all the Jedi. Even more powerful than Master Yoda.”
They rounded the corner and Amne straightened her posture. Sheev approached first and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
“Thank you for coming,” he said. “I hope Elusha did not mistreat you?”
“She bullied me into giving a press conference before the inauguration,” she responded. “I think it is a wise move.”
His expression was as approving as if he had been the one to make the initial suggestion. “If you feel comfortable with it, I will not stand in your way,” Sheev replied.
Anakin bowed formally. “It is good to see you safe, milady,” he said genuinely.
She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek as usual. He was long past the age when such a gesture would make him blush, but he still smiled at the touch of maternal affection.
“Do I understand that you are going to be sent on your own assignment?” she asked politely.
“Quite so,” Sheev said before Anakin could respond. “Another attempt was made on Senator Amidala's life last night and I will be persuading her to return to Naboo until the crisis has been resolved.”
“I've been personally charged with her security for the time being,” Anakin added.
“I'm sure you'll do extremely well,” Amne said.
“Thank you, milady,” Anakin replied. “And thank you, Chancellor.”
Sheev inclined his head deferentially. “Clear skies.”
Sheev bestowed another kiss on her as soon as the door closed, but then steered her back towards the office.
“How are you faring?” he asked formally.
“Better than yesterday,” she said honestly. “I'll be glad to leave.”
“That is why I asked you to come here now,” he said. “With the emergent crisis ...”
“You're not coming.”
It came out as an accusation, which she had not intended, but this was no time for him to make excuses or apologies.
“Of course I'm coming,” he soothed her, his arm wrapping around her waist. “I simply hoped we could leave earlier.”
That was better than having the trip postponed or canceled. “How much earlier?”
“In an hour's time,” he said. “I will also be unable to spend more than half a day on Naboo.”
“I see.”
She could hear her tone become more flat and emotionless with each passing sentence, but she could not seem to turn it around. She retreated to the nearest chair and found her way into it.
“I will meet you at the transport,” he said without seeming to pay attention to her voice.
“I'll be there,” she said automatically.
“Good,” he said. “If you'll excuse me, I must speak to the Naboo delegation before I leave.”
It was typical for him to make such changes without consulting her, but it was the first time in years that it had rankled her. She returned to the speeder without speaking another word. Once inside, when she had come back to herself, she turned to Semlit.
“We're to leave in an hour,” she informed him. “Please see if the doctor can come before then.”
“Yes, milady.”
Without further comment, she turned her face to the viewport and tried to erase any trace of residual bitterness from her expression.
Notes:
Our headcanon was that Palpatine has had his share of nightmares in his day as well, so how he would react to Amne’s was most interesting. Expanding one of Amne’s nightmares into an actual scene was discussed, but it’s so far into the stories that Kaki never got to it.
Once again, the Sith Lord struggles to know how to manage his wife and her inconvenient grief.