Public A Queen Without Her King

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Drystan Creed | Open

Bespin

The casino shimmered in gilded excess, a jewel of indulgence perched high above the gas giant's swirling clouds. Cloud City had always been a sanctuary for the powerful, the cunning, and the foolishly wealthy—those who knew that luck was merely a game of leverage, and that true fortune belonged only to those who knew how to tip the scales in their favor.

Lady Seraphine had come here tonight to play.

Her emerald gown, sleek and adorned with subtle gemstone embellishments, clung to her form in all the ways that invited stray glances without ever allowing them to linger long enough to assume familiarity. She moved through the casino floor with a gait that spoke of refinement, a glass of something expensive in hand, her manicured fingers idly tracing its rim. The scent of credits, ambition, and desperation was thick in the air, laced with the occasional flash of triumph or ruin.

She enjoyed the stakes. Enjoyed the power of the gamble, not because she trusted chance, but because she always ensured she never truly lost. Tonight, though, there was an edge of restlessness beneath her carefully sculpted veneer. The thrill of the game was not enough. The company of wealthy, arrogant men eager to impress, or dangerous figures who thought themselves her equal felt lacking.

She had once known companionship that could match her stride. A partner, a counterpart, a presence that was not merely an accessory, but a foundation.

Kaito Starfall

She did not think his name often, but when she did, it cut through the silk of her composure like a blade. Her husband. Her estranged husband. The man who had once stood beside her not just in title, but in presence. They had been something formidable together, once. And now…?

A sigh, soft and wistful, passed her lips before she could silence it. She excused herself from the table with a practiced smile, collecting her winnings with a slow, deliberate gesture before turning away from the clamor and indulgence, tucking her winnings in to an elegant clutch.

The private balcony welcomed her with a cool night breeze, the lights of the city stretching far beneath her, golden and ethereal. It was beautiful—just like everything else in her life. Beautiful, extravagant, and profoundly empty.

With a slow movement, she lifted her glass, taking a sip of the amber liquid within. It burned, but not in the way she needed it to. He closed her eyes tight and downed the rest in one go.

And then, without meaning to, without wanting to. her lashes lowered, her breath caught, and she felt the weight of absence.

Her throat tightened. Her fingers trembled, just slightly, and she curled them more firmly around the delicate stem of her glass, unwilling to let even grief steal her poise.
A queen without her king. A throne with no second seat.

A single tear slipped, catching in the glow of the city lights before she brushed it away with an unhurried sweep of her gloved hand, as though it had never been there at all. The moment passed. It always did.

With her composure regained, she turned back toward the city. The night was still young. There were still games to play, fortunes to shift. And perhaps—if the mood struck—she might even find herself a new distraction. Nay, not a king. No, never that. But perhaps... something pretty enough to fill the space at her side for an evening.

 

[Drystan Creed]

BESPIN

WEARING

"Blow on that for me, love."

Drystan lifted a closed fist, dice held within, to the Zeltron woman at his side. She smirked knowingly, leaning in to exhale a soft breath over his hand.

A small act. A calculated gesture.

Drystan stood at the craps table, dice in hand, an eyepatch covering his left eye, and an immaculate white tuxedo draped over his frame. A modest crowd had gathered around him, their eyes locked on the game.

With precise, effortless motion, he tossed the dice.

They rolled—tumbled—landed. Cheers erupted from the crowd. The dealer's expression soured. Drystan smirked.

"And that's another seven. Looks like I win again. Seventh seven. Seventy-seven?"

A chuckle rippled through the bystanders as he raked in his winnings, the casino chips stacking into an ever-growing pile beside him.

To his other side, a Twi'lek woman raised a cigarette to his lips. He took a slow drag before she replaced it with a glass of whiskey, offering him a sip.

Everything about him—the confidence, the smirk, the cool arrogance—was a mask.

A perfectly crafted performance.

Drystan was undercover.

Every movement, every expression, every bit of charm replicated—a seamless imitation of the high-rollers and social elite who walked the casino floor. His streak of impossibly good luck? Nothing more than mastered precision. Having observed the exact motions, angles, and forces needed to roll whatever he wanted, he could replicate it perfectly.

His talent wasn't limited to the battlefield.

"Once I win this next one, drinks are on me."

A resounding cheer erupted from the crowd. He had won enough credits to buy drinks for the entire night—and still walk away with a small fortune.

To them, he was just another charismatic gambler, reveling in glory, luxury, and excess.

But the credits, the women, the spectacle—none of it mattered.

Drystan was here for one reason.

A lead. A whisper of Sith dealings with the Black Sun—credits and artifacts exchanging hands, or worse.

The trail had led him here.

The role he played, the fortune he had amassed, the reputation he was building—all of it was camouflage.

He wasn't here to indulge. He was here to hunt.

Lady Kyoteru Seraphine

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Drystan Creed | Open

Lady Seraphine spotted a table of interest. The energy around it was electric, alive with excitement, indulgence, and the sweet, intoxicating scent of victory. But beneath the glittering facade of revelry, there was something else—something practiced. Calculated. Cold.

Kyoteru saw right through the man.

She had spent too many years in the company of men like this, men who played at charm and dripped confidence like expensive cologne. She had watched hollow arrogance wrapped in silk waltz across casino floors, had learned long ago to tell the difference between a true player and a man desperate to convince the world that he belonged.

She wouldn't call him on it—not yet. No, no. That simply would ruin the fun.

Instead, she would indulge him, if only to watch how far he was willing to take the performance.

Her lips curled, slow and knowing, a soft huff of amusement slipping from her as she lifted her glass, tilting it just so with an invitation, followed by an appraisal.

"Oh, darling,~" she purred, voice dipped in syrup and silk, just enough to tease, just enough to taunt.

"Winning streaks make men bold. You should be careful not to waste all that luck before the night is through."

She took a slow sip, letting her gaze drag over him, emerald eyes drinking in the immaculate tuxedo, the careful smirk, the too-perfect ease with which he moved.

And then, with the smallest tilt of her head, and a whisper of a challenge...

"Tell me… are you truly here to win?"

Or, like her, had he come to take something far more valuable?

 

[Drystan Creed]

BESPIN

Before Drystan could roll another seven, he stopped mid-shake, his attention shifting.

A newcomer. She stood out—immediately. Not just in appearance. There was something distinguished about her. An aura that set her apart from the usual clientele. Even next to the two women beside him, she was unmistakable. And that dress didn't look too bad on her either. This might have been the breakthrough he was waiting for.

"Mind if I change the bet?"

He pushed his entire stack of ludicrously high winnings onto the table. All in.

A nod to the dealer.

Then—his focus returned to the woman before him.

"Truth be told, I've always been bold. Winning streak or not. I'd rather lose thirty times in a row than stop at nine."

He smirked, rolling the dice in his palm.

"If I quit at nine, it means I lost confidence in myself. And that's just not something I do."

Without even looking, he tossed the dice behind him.

The crowd held their breath as they tumbled—

Then, snake eyes.

Exactly as he intended. A deliberate loss.

The atmosphere shifted immediately. The crowd dispersed, their interest vanishing now that the streak was over. The women at his side peeled away. The dealer looked ecstatic, finally raking in the winnings for the house.

Drystan? Unbothered.

He exhaled, finally allowing himself to lean back slightly, rolling his shoulders.

"I guess you could say I was looking for something." His gaze met hers, steadier now.

"And if I find it, I'd consider that a win."

The game had served its purpose. Now, it was just the two of them.

He studied her for a moment before flipping the conversation.

"And who might you be?" His voice was smooth, intrigued—but laced with something sharper, deeper.

"You don't strike me as someone easily impressed by a good stroke of luck."

Lady Kyoteru Seraphine

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Drystan Creed
Her lips curled into a subtle smile, eyes glinting with curiosity as she leaned slightly closer, taking in the bold declaration and calculated move before her. "How very... theatrical," she responded, her tone smooth yet edged with amusement. "You gamble not just with dice but with your own bravado. Risky play, but I suppose that's part of your charm."


She paused, "And yet, here you are, surrendering your confidence as easily as you rolled those dice." she tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to show she was not one to be underestimated, "what exactly are you hoping to find in a place like this?"

Her gaze remained locked on his, "You're right. I'm not easily impressed by luck alone. It takes more than a streak of winning—or losing—to capture my interest. So, if you're seeking something, I'd suggest being a bit more forthcoming. After all, fortune favors the bold, but it rewards those who know how to play their cards right."

 

[Drystan Creed]

BESPIN

"Nothing worth having comes without risk."

Drystan smiled, effortlessly maintaining the debonair facade as he studied her—watching for subtle shifts in posture, flickers of expression.

Anything telltale.

Anything that might help him in his hunt.

This was his first real lead since taking on this operation, and he wouldn't let it slip away so easily.

So, he played his role.

The charming bachelor, the high-rolling collector, a man chasing exotic indulgences.

"I've heard a few murmurs. Nothing substantial." He exhaled slowly, his tone casual. "I'm an avid collector, always looking for something... rarer for my collection."

His words were vague—revealing just enough to gauge her reaction, but not enough to show his full hand.

Because for all his charm, he didn't trust her.

Not yet.

He didn't know who she was or why she had approached him—despite her apparent disinterest in his lucky streak.

"Though..." He let his gaze drift over her, a smirk replacing his smile.

"I suppose I've already found something elegant standing right in front of me."

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth.

"I still haven't gotten your name yet. Is that something you part with easily—"

A slight pause.

"Or do I need to buy you a drink first?"

Lady Kyoteru Seraphine

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Drystan Creed
She smiled at that, the kind of smile that didn't so much warm as it did sharpen, like the slow draw of a blade from its sheath. Lifting her glass, she swirled the amber liquid within, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make him aware of it. Then, with a soft hum of mock consideration, she took a sip and exhaled as though savoring something particularly amusing.

"To think," she mused, her tone dipped in velvet and edged with something undeniably wry, "that you have credits enough to burn en masse, yet not the foresight to invest in something as simple as manners."

Her gaze settled on him then, deliberate and knowing. "Or is it common practice where you're from to ask for someone's name before offering your own? Because where I come from, that's a rather uncouth habit."

She tilted her head, watching him as though he were some intriguing puzzle yet to be solved. "Allow me to educate you, darling—when one desires an introduction, one first has the courtesy to offer their own." Her lips curled ever so slightly. "It's a small thing, really. A matter of etiquette."

She let the words hang between them, fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass as she regarded him with that same measured patience. Then, with a delicate arch of her brow and the ghost of a smirk, she added, "But if you'd rather we dispense with pleasantries entirely, well… I do hope you're planning to be exceptionally entertaining in other ways."

 

[Drystan Creed]

BESPIN

Drystan internally twitched—she had caught on quickly to his hesitation, his reluctance to introduce himself first.

An underestimation on his part. One he immediately corrected.

His expression remained calm, his cool smile never wavering, feigning ignorance with practiced ease.

"Apologies," he said smoothly. "I'm just so used to people introducing themselves to me first. I was taken aback when you hadn't given me your name within the first minute."

A small pause.

"I'm Dresdin. Dresdin Crow."

A cover name. An alias. And he delivered it flawlessly. Because he wasn't just pretending to be composed—he was replicating it.

Every stance, every gesture, every nuance of someone effortlessly in control. Layers upon layers of deception, a persona carefully constructed and worn like an expertly tailored suit.

When she mentioned entertainment, his brow lifted slightly.

"Entertainment?" His voice carried amused curiosity.

"My, I can't even begin to imagine what sort of entertainment you'd be looking for."

His gaze drifted over the casino, a world of luxury and excess stretching before them.

"A place like this has more to offer than any person could ever want."

Then, his smirk sharpened.

"But I think we're in the same boat. I wasn't exactly looking for it here—rather, I was looking for someone who could take me to what I wanted."

Drystan's voice remained smooth, deliberate.

His gaze met hers, studying her reaction as he let the moment stretch just long enough.

"Would that person be you, by any chance? Ms…?"

He let the words hang, his tone inviting, banking on her introducing herself formally so he could at least have a name to work with.

Lady Kyoteru Seraphine

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Drystan Creed

Seraphine's lips curled, the amusement in her eyes glinting like the rim of her glass as she brought it to her lips. She took an unhurried sip, savoring the moment as much as the drink.

"Oh, Mr. Crow," she mused, silken voice laced with dry amusement. "You're used to spending your time with beautiful young girls, aren't you?"

But she wasn't one of them.

Without so much as a glance, she reached out and plucked a high-value betting chip from her purse. The weight of it rested in her palm for only a second before she flicked it onto the nearest sabacc table. A sharp clack. A bet placed without hesitation, without looking at the cards, without needing to.

Confidence not in luck, but in herself.

"As for me…" A knowing smile. "My friends just call me Kyo."

She watched curious to see if he truly understood what kind of company he was keeping.

 

[Drystan Creed]

BESPIN

"Kyo?" Drystan repeated, as if testing how the name felt on his tongue. He already liked the way his own sounded when she spoke it.

At her comment about how he spent his time, he offered only a warm smile.

"I'm not worried about who I've spent my time with, and neither should you." His voice was smooth, assured. "Just know that I'd like to spend it now—with you."

Without missing a beat, he mirrored her movements, taking a matching chip from his pocket and placing it down.

But this wasn't just about playing the game.

This was an opportunity—a chance to push his query further.

"Let's be honest." His gaze met hers, his tone carrying just enough intrigue to hook her attention.

"You don't strike me as the type who finds betting just credits to be… interesting."

He leaned in slightly, letting the moment linger.

"How about a wager to spice things up?"

His smirk was subtle, inviting.

"Something on the line that isn't just numbers."

A pause. A beat of silence, letting the suggestion settle.

Then, casually—

"So—what do you think?"

Lady Kyoteru Seraphine

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Drystan Creed

Kyoteru met his gaze with a touch of interest, amusement, and... calculation? Perhaps all three. The pause that followed wasn't idle; it was deliberate, weighing the moment in her own unspoken way.

"You've my interest... I'm listening." she mused, in a soft murmur, as if deciding just how much of that intrigue she wished to reveal.

Her fingers tapped against the table, considering, before finally, she tilted her head, eyes glinting with something sharp. "Let's hear it, then. What kind of wager did you have in mind?"

 

[Drystan Creed]

BESPIN

"It's a simple wager, really. Like I said before—just betting credits between us wouldn't be any fun."

A smile, easy yet deliberate.

"So if I win—a drink at your place."

His eyes narrowed slightly, the smirk still lingering.

"And if you win—well, you can keep that to yourself."

He wasn't planning to lose.

And he wanted to know more about her.

Perhaps, under the guise of a more intimate setting, he could gain access to her personal lodgings—a chance to uncover useful information for his mission.

She was too well put together, too calculated. Asking outright for what he wanted would likely blow his cover.

So, he played the long game.

"How does that sound, Ms.Kyo?"

Lady Kyoteru Seraphine

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Drystan Creed
A soft hum passed her lips as a touch of amusement flickered behind her emerald eyes. Seraphine took her time, because power was in the pause, in the way she let silence tease the air between them. Finally, she leaned in just enough for her perfume to become an invitation of its own, the ghost of a smirk curling at the edge of her mouth.

"A drink at my place…" she echoed, tasting the words like a vintage too fine to be rushed. "A bold wager, but I find myself wondering—" Her fingers trailed along the rim of her glass before she lifted it to take a sip, lashes lowering ever so slightly. "—why bother with all the pretense?"

She set the glass down with a deliberate softness, tilting her head, watching him. "You've already piqued my curiosity. It would be a shame to waste time on a game when we could be enjoying something far more… indulgent."

A slow smile, sultry and laced with devious amusement. "I've been a widow long enough," she murmured, her voice a velvety confession, "and I think it's time I indulged a little."

She leaned back, a picture of self-assured ease, but there was challenge in her eyes. "So, why don't we forget the bet and skip to the part where you come back to mine? Dinner. A night of entertainment. Unless, of course, you prefer to drag this out?" A playful flick of her gaze down his frame before she met his eyes again, smirking. "Something tells me you're not the patient type."