Private A trip on the other side

[Adron Malvern]

THE KING & QUEEN​

Tags: Alessandra Creed ​

A low growl erupted from the King's throat as a vicious truth washed over him in one hellish wave. He'd spent his entire life avoiding this truth, yet it seemed it was poised to strike against him. Yet he would not stand for it, he would not yield himself to something so pathetic. So when the Royal Hairdresser spoke once again it only caused a vein to grow on the side of his temple. "I...I'm sorry your majesty but there are two now..." When the man spoke the King scoffed, before running a hand through his hair, a shallow gaze of hatred shot at the man who stood before him. "W-we can always dye it your majesty!" The man answered hesitantly, causing Adron to exhale in agitation. "Later, just get out of my sight." He said, waving a hand at the man in dismissal.

When the hairdresser left, exiting to the other side of the shuttle, the King could not help but glance at his beloved, Alessandra Creed . "Two of them." He muttered. pinching the two grey hairs in a practiced motion as he showed them off to the Queen. "I thought a lack of civility was the galaxies leading problem, now I see it's the human body's insufferable trait to ag- I should live to be over three hundred years old with the aid of the Force, how am I turning grey before my thirties?!" He asked, before pulling a set of sunglasses from his pocket and pulling them over his amethyst eyes.

The King chuckled, placing his foolishness aside for a moment to produce a small datapad, eyeing it closely. "This city. Regne de Sang. It apparently suffered some streak of murders recently. A Twi'lek Magnate had a number of young Twi'lek women murdered, including his own daughter. However, this region is in the hands of...." His eyes trailed off as he glanced over to his Queen. "Magnate Astier." He said finally, turning the datapad off with a slight, dry chuckle. "Fauvel Astier. I made that girl an orphan." He said, setting the datapad on the table beside him. "Her family was one of the few who rebelled against our rule. They sought to bring this settlement into open Rebellion. I dispatched an Adjudicator to handle the situation and before a week had passed her mother, father, and eldest sibling was beheaded for treason."

There was blood in all aspects of life, especially something as abrupt as Adron's subjugation of Illyria. He wept no tears for what he had to do, there was no path before the man that was short of blood. Still, there was something about the death of one's entire family. Well, how could he not empathize with that?

"Seems this province would work well with our mission." He turned his eyes to Alessandra with a small smile upon his lips. Their goal here was to see their people, but not to see them as King and Queen. They would walk the streets no different from those who lived here and breathed these airs every day. They'd left their more lavish clothing and apparel where it belongs at Draggone palace while Adron wore a simple jacket and jean outfit. If they truly wanted to help the people of this world, then they would need to devote some time to being among them. Illyria was most beautiful from the palace and Azurine City, but much of the planet was still behind the times in technology, some areas yet bordering on savage and downtrodden. Regne de Sang was not such a place. Surely its technology was lacking, yet the people were educated and practiced, however...curt.

As their shuttle touched down outside of the city, the King turned to his wife. "Well, let's make an appearance." He said with a small smile before taking Alessandra's hand and leading her towards the shuttle's offloading ramp.​

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[Alessandra Creed]

Adron Malvern ​

Lips painted the color of a freshly cut rose were curled up at the edges whilst watching her husband fret over the smallest thing in the history of the galaxy. It wasn’t the infamous Agent Wars that had him in a snit, nor, was his recent foray into political parties within the Confederacy. It was the fact that his age finally caught up with him. She leaned back in the plush chair and could only watch while he raved. It was one of his biggest pet peeves. “Stop. You’re still beautiful, Adron. You always will be.”

Her teasing words were coupled with a delicate caress of the Force along his spine. She could see his agitation with the human condition and could only do her best to try and reassure him. The raven-haired woman hadn’t so much as glanced a grey in her own locks, but, it wasn’t a surprise. Her mother had hair black as night and she was at least twice her age. She didn’t foresee having that issue for a good long time. “Besides. A little grey is distinguished…”

It brought him down to her level.

So often he was a larger than life figure. Alessandra had seen him command ships that were so large they couldn’t land on a planet without assistance. She had seen him stand down veritable death and destruction without flinching. He took to the mantle of being a King without thought. Without any difficulty whatsoever. Seeing him with a few grey hairs? She secretly thought it was handsome.

He seemed to let the state of his hair go as his data-pad caught his attention and she had a sinking feeling that it was time to get back to work. She scooted closer on the seat and let her form rest against his side while he went over what they needed to know. Her supple, soft body, blended against his seamlessly. Her shoulder tucked against him while her head found his shoulder. “Does Magnate Astier hold any of the designs as her dearly departed? Or is she loyal?”

The notion of making someone an orphan didn’t sit well with her. Alessandra shifted so that her right-hand rest against the soft material of his clothing, just over his stomach, while listening. Ever since Aries had come into her life—She had softened. Not nearly as cutthroat as she had once been. She worried for him. Worried for their family.

“If you have a shred of doubt it may be time to unseat her, given, what has taken place in this territory. Rebellion is a poison. It starts at the roots. Are you certain she is not already tainted?”

It was a heartless question.

The entirety of her family had been lost to the reformation of Illyria and here Alessandra found herself suggesting that they also demand her own life as a sacrifice. That was what it was, truly. To leave her in disgrace and stripped of power and influence? In a world that cherished such things? She would be ruined. Out of favor with the King—And the Queen held no mercy. Protecting Illyria meant protecting her son. For that? She would tear anyone, guilty, or innocent, limb from limb.

So much for having softened.

“Something needs to set this province in order. If the Magnate cannot—We must.”

Alessandra had grudgingly forgone her typical fair, so much so, that she glanced down at the high-waisted tartan skirt she wore with a bit of distaste. It was too long, too loose, and the fabric wasn’t at all what she was used too. A tan waist-cincher at least emphasized the fact that she had a figure beneath it all. She wore a cream-colored top and left her hair down. She had gone the extra mile and forwent some of the dramatic make-up she favored. “You have gray hair…My face feels naked. What a pair we are.”

She had a stash of emergency credits sewn into the lining of her skirt and just in case, still, wore a comm. There was a small, thin dagger, hidden in the bust of her corset. Adron took her hand and the typically sassy woman allowed him to help her up. Part of her was gladdened to see the city for what it was, with her own eyes, while the rest of her was just relieved to hold his hand.

As Alessandra. Not a Queen. Not a Minister.

It meant more than he knew.

 

[Adron Malvern]

REGNE DE SANG​

Tags: Alessandra Creed ​

When he felt Alessandra's body press against his, he couldn't help but turn his eyes towards her affectionately. Adron had always been a man who appreciated the subtle touch of his wife, in whatever way it could be presented to him. Something as simple as running her fingers through his hair or her nails scratching along the curve of his spine were things that released his mind from the cage it usually held. So anytime she did one of these actions he always made a point to show her its worth. As her head leaned onto his shoulder he leaned over to press his lips to her brow. Yet, her question did not go unanswered.

"I searched her mind and the minds of her siblings I granted life. I sensed fear and sorrow, yet..." He paused for a moment before deactivating the datapad and allowing it to rest on his lap. "Not anger. Not towards me at least. The young girl seemed to understand her father's missteps and she is far too young to shield her thoughts from me, let alone mislead me. No, if there was any seeds of disloyalty I would have sensed it and executed her and her siblings with the rest of her family."

Family executions. A splendid topic for Adron. Sadly, on worlds such as Illyria they simply could not be overlooked. Those with power on this world were often granted it through their blood, which meant that even blood was a weapon. After all, it was blood that had brought the downtrodden Queen of Serenno to Adron's door, insistent on gaining his approval or at least sweeping away any chance of him instigating Rebellion or spreading doubts. Now that was a thought that brought him to a soft laugh.

"We are here to observe, for now. There is a delicate balance between solving the people's problems and enabling my Nobles to believe they are without duty. Besides, i'm interested to think just what the Magnate has done since taking control of this province." Adron took Alessandra's hand and led her out of the shuttle with a refreshing feeling flowing through him. It was a dark day for Regne de Sang, as storm clouds loomed overhead and a cool breeze flooded the area. Perfect weather as far as Adron was concerned, though Alessandra may freeze as the late fall winds had a certain chill to them. He kept her close, to keep her warm in his arms where she belonged. They had touched down at a landing pad on the edge of town and Adron was interested to see the walls that surrounded the city. "Quaint. Very Quaint." He said, his hand gesturing to the walls that had a gothic feel to them. In fact, the entire city was designed in the classical-gothic Illyrian architecture. Pointed edges and dim colors paired with grey-dark stones. While the architecture was similar to something you would find in Azurine, the color scheme was a far cry from the capitol.

The people were dressed rather conservatively as well. Most seemed to be going about their days without any sign of trouble or worry, yet Adron could sense there was a certain gloom hanging over the city. It reminded him of the same feeling he felt in Azurine when they first visited the city. "I sense more than a fair share of depression." He said in a low tone as they began their walk down the dark cobble sidewalk. "When the Astier's were shamed, many other Houses refused to do commerce with them. Thousands of people have left the city since then, preferring some of the more...honored provinces." He said.
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[Alessandra Creed]

Adron Malvern​

Sinfully sweet lips curved slightly at the edges when her husband pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Alessandra knew it was special. Not simply because it was such a tender mote of affection, but, because it came from her typically stoic beloved. He was many things. Soft—Was not one of them. She nestled herself against his warmth and let her fingers play with the fabric of his all too plain attire. The question she had asked was both heinous and necessary. Her stomach twisted; but he would never chastise her for it. He knew the importance of necessity. Of pragmatism.

Even when it felt cold-blooded.

Alessandra was silent for a long moment when Adron assured her that the Magnate was pure of thought. Saddened, but pure. Dark eyes flickered upward and full lashes brushed against soft skin while the gears in her mind turned. She did not doubt him. Merely, she refused to underestimate. “If you are certain—I will let it be. I have seen those with strong gifts manipulate others in ways that barely have description. The Magnate is young. Perhaps, she is an innocent.”

“Perhaps she is not. Time will tell.”

The Minister of Commerce had watched her mother skillfully manipulate courtiers by twisting their thoughts from afar. Making it seem as if some were innocent, while others, were guilty when scanned mentally. In layman’s terms; It was a frame job. Did this girl know anyone skilled enough to fool her husband? Was she foolish enough to try? Alessandra didn’t know, but, part of keeping her family safe—Their kingdom safe—Involved being suspicious. Of everything.

All the time.

A flash of memory passed through her and her eyes narrowed for a moment as they settled on the King of Illyria. “Why are you thinking about that harlot?”, she spat out swiftly, feeling a disinterested fire burn as the base of her spine. Adron would well know how Alessandra reacted to being threatened. She was possessive, to a fault, and would never back down. Not for some random Illyrian and certainly not from some weakling “Queen” of Serenno. “A Queen—Even in your mind. That is rich.”

“Queens do not beg.”

No. That woman had been more akin to a dog. Nipping at their heels then dashing away when they were scolded for wetting the carpet. Alessandra could feel her blood begin to boil at the memory of her girlish demands and generally superior demeanor. If that was what remained of Serenno? It was not the world that Adron had described before the fall. It was better off a pile of ashes.

Her frown increased when Adron described what their duties would be.

Observe?

It seemed like a lazy way of waiting for the nobility to screw up so they could shove their noses in it when they ascended the throne again. She let the King lead her out of their ship in peasant clothing and naturally drew closer to him when the cold winds nipped at her through her clothing. She wasn’t used to this weather. Geonosis was blisteringly hot; that was her preferred state. A shiver ran down her spine and she let her hip brush against his. This was cold, windy, rainy, hell. “Yes. Quaint.”, she muttered, briefly, scanning the darker shades and the high gothic arches.

“I feel it…”

The depression that Adron spoke of. It wasn’t just a faint shadow that had wrapped around the people due to the weather, but a deep, profound sadness. It was a sense of distant misery and wanting that had long ago settled into grim soil and wan faces. Alessandra buried her slender form into the side of her husband evermore. She didn’t care about the half glances they received. Illyria was an old-world; conservative and set in their ways.

Clinging to a man in public like this wasn’t necessarily frowned upon but it didn’t speak of the pure and proper breeding they were used to. It painted them as outsiders; tourists, or travelers.

It wasn’t exactly untrue.

Alessandra was careful to watch the cracks in the cobblestone so she didn’t trip. She wasn’t one for hiking as Adron had, with difficulty, discovered upon their arrival. The uneven terrain was a health hazard as far as she was concerned. “If commerce is leaving Regne de Sang it will surely perish before long. Something will need to be done to restore the luster; the grace that will draw the old blood home."

A lack of economy, proper, and true was likely part of the reason for the emptiness.

“A stimulus will only go so far. They need a reason. Industry.”

 

[Adron Malvern]

Good Wine​

Tags: Alessandra Creed ​

The King appreciated his wife's skepticism. It was no insult to him, merely a compliment to his rule. Alessandra's breeding was not far from what could be seen in the halls of the Nobility on Serenno. Trust no one, protect your family. Were those House Malvern's words then they would be embodied deeply in the Queen of Amethyst. So Adron never disregarded her thoughts on a certain situation as unreasonable, instead he took that as a special sign to focus more deeply on the matter that had caused her alarm.

When the woman who held his side for so long turned to him with beautiful, narrowed eyes the man turned to her with an arched brow. So his wife had sensed his thoughts and reacted on it? This too caused his lips to draw into a knowing smile. "No, I suppose they do not." He remarked, before lowering his tone, a hand sliding across Alessandra's waist as he pulled her close to him in a warm embrace. His own words dropped into a cool tone as he whispered to Alessandra. "Although, I've known you to plead for certain things when offered the proper...incentive." His teasing tone carried on for a moment before his spare hand came up to lightly brush across Alessandra's cheek.

The two continued down the streets and Adron considered Alessandra's words. Commerce was fleeing this province and at certain rates that could raise a question or two.

"No...it needs more than a stimulus. The Nobility are tasked with overseeing the progression of their lands. Even with their shame House Astier remains firmly in control of this province. The Magnate is young and inexperienced. Perhaps tasking a Viscount or Count to instruct her would prove some worth." He said, his eyes catching sight of a small wine shop that laid off the main road. "Shall we?"

Adron guided Alessandra into the shop. It was a humble, yet quiet, establishment. Two men stood behind the bartop with an array of wine bottles racked behind them. Adron settled Alessandra onto one of the barstools before turning his eyes to one of the young men who approached him.

"Welcome to the Winter Dragon. Home of the famous White Snow Moscato. Can we interest the two of you in a sample?"

Adron was never a man to turn down wine. Sample or otherwise. He nodded gratefully at the man before settling into the seat beside his Queen. He noticed the two men were not bowed in deference and instead seemed relaxed before the two newcomers. Well that was an interesting difference. While two small glasses were prepared for the two, Adron spoke to Alessandra without so much as moving his lips.

'I hear there is a singular faith that has influence over this province. The Ashen Church. Priests from the Order of the Silma tell me they are practitioners of the Dark Side. Normally I'm not one to take interest in the religions of others, however we have to be wary of Force users operating outside of the Silma.'

Adron took the glass of wine to his lips, taking a measured sip of the drink before exhaling in pleasure. Hints of grape and peach flushed through his palette as he enjoyed the sweet wine. Finally he settled the glass back on the counter before nodding to the salesman. "Wonderful, what do you think my love?" He asked Alessandra, yet as he spoke with his lips, so too did he reach out with the Force once again.

'I worry. I've noticed Illyria has an above average number of Force Users. This alone will draw the galaxy to this planet over time. If it were any other world I would construct a temple to the Sith and have them all trained as my apprentices. However that would require me to entrust their training to a headmaster and I have no Sith under my command whom I can entrust with the task. Perhaps Xobos Yakieer if she was more experienced, but she is far from ready to hold that responsibility.'

'They could all be committed to our elite guard? Or even to the end of progression in the workforce. Even with minimal training someone strong in the Force an be a huge boon to the economy where they are tasked. I read of such things in a tome speaking of Illyria before the line of Kings. Yet, there was very little information in the Illyrian Library.' He said, still speaking through their connection in the Force.
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[Alessandra Creed]

Adron Malvern​

Alessandra knew by the smile that spread across her husband's features that he found her sudden ire entirely amusing. Ever since they’d chosen to commit fully to one another they had always remained rather open. Open minds; Open hearts. It made it easy to pick up on vestiges of what Adron was thinking without trying. It had become second nature. His hand around her waist, pulling her near, caused her to lean up and place a less than an innocent kiss to his lips. She held it, briefly, until the tips of lightly callused fingers touched her cheek. “Say what you will…But I’ve never been more your Queen than in those moments.”

It would have been enough to make some of the courtiers blush.

She didn’t care. Clad in attire that would let them blend in with the working-class Alessandra actually felt emboldened. She had been raised about as far from peasantry as once could be, but she still liked to spread her wings. To feel free. The necessary entrapments of royalty and the governing body they served made it feel occasionally as if she were being smothered in expectation. Her only peace came in the form of her family. She loved her parents. Adored her sister. Treasured her son. Cherished her husband. They were her precious things. The moments, the people, that she couldn’t live without.

When she had come to value those ties over credits and success she would never know. The transition had been gradual but effective. Complete.

Perhaps, it had begun the moment Aries had been conceived.

The second she felt his heartbeat.

“A tutor might serve the intended purpose. The conditions are…”, Alessandra trailed off while chocolate eyes observed the common men and women that toiled and milled about their day. “Less charming than I would have hoped.”

That was the politest way she could describe a distant sense of wrongness that permeated the air. She couldn’t put her finger on it, though, she was sure Adron could feel it too. She was quiet while he led her toward a small storefront and the fingers of her free hand seemed to weave through the air at her side. Testing it. As if the faint current would tell her what reports could not. She let her King get her situated on a barstool and played the doting, sweet lover, for the benefit of the shop owners.

She didn’t get the feeling that this quaint little village was terribly evolved when it came to equality.

Alessandra listened to Adron about the Ashen Church and reached up to let her little finger curl in the ends of her hair. Absently, she twirled it, while her thoughts lingered on what seemed to be a steadily growing Force User population. Her head nodded and a gracious word of thanks passed her lips when they poured a rather generous sample of the specialty beverage in an interesting wine glass. It took her a moment to realize that the glass had been blown, not manufactured, as she was used to.

A tentative sip told her it was surprisingly sweet.

<We will need to ascertain their ideals.>

Many Sith operated in the old ways. The act of betrayal was nothing so true to themselves. Destroying their betters. Breaking them down, becoming them, replacing them. Was this the doctrine that the Ashen Church preached? That was a sermon that could spark a rebellion. The Illyrian Crown required a consolidation of power. Not wild; rogue elements becoming bold in their own backyard.

When he asked of the wine Alessandra took another sip after delicately breathing in the light aroma. It stayed with her just enough, but, lacked the familiar bitterness of red wine. “I enjoy it. We should have some sent home for our sisters to try.”

He was not the only one who had noticed that the Force had a particularly strong presence here. Something had drawn them to this world. Something brought down their state-of-the-art craft. Something helped them live. Something gave them the will to fight—To turn their enemies to ash before ancient ruins in a column of fire. <Bringing them into the military in a similar form to the Knights Obsidian seems to be the only option. We can’t risk an insurrection. Especially, not with trained force sensitives. Perhaps there is more to be found.>

Alessandra didn’t express just what her thoughts had fallen toward. They had plunged Illyria into a modern age, but there was still something mystical about it. Something old. The Illyrian Library had been a relic before their arrival and truly needed to be converted to an archive before the papers of wood-born paper crumbled to the pressure of time. <There was something here long ago.>

<Perhaps it is not gone.>

 

[Adron Malvern]

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FAITH IN LOVE​

Tags: Alessandra Creed ​

When the King's wife suggested they fold the Ashen Church within the confines of the military, the recently designated Court of Summer, his only response was to take another sip of the wine he'd been drinking while nodding in silent agreeance. When finally his glass of wine came empty he set the pristine crystal back on the bartop. Naturally the wine keeper was eager to refill the glass, however the King's hand came up to cover the top of his glass, a sign that he would not be having a refill.

Too sweet. He mused thoughtfully. It was deliciously refreshing for the first few sips, but by the time you had consumed several ounces of the drink? It left a sugary taste on your tongue that only a strong cup of cafe could hope to rid you of. The wine salesman seemed slightly discouraged, however the King quickly puled out a credit chit and slid it onto the table towards the young man, tapping it twice as a sign for him to retrieve an earned tip. His boyish face showed a warm smile as he collected the glass and the tip, before turning to properly polish the crystal. Adron's hand slid from the bar top down lower to his wife's thigh.

His raven-like eyes soaked in the entirety of the shop, keeping a keen watch on those that entered and left. He watched it all, their clothes, their demeanor, even the way they spoke to one another.

Illyria was horridly incoherent when it came to things such as technology. In the Capital there was a live use of modern technology that made the days shorter and the nights longer. It was the lifeline to progress and in Azurine it thrived. However at least seventy-five percent of the world was behind the modern bar, with almost fifty percent still in semi-feudal levels of technology. With the construction of their orbital platform, L'enfer, great strides were being taken to activate the planet's economy on a global scale, yet these things took time.

Years. The though echoed through his mind and his hand squeezed his wife's thigh softly in an invalid response.

It was a demoralizing thought. His eyes turned to Alessandra with a knowing expression. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. That was the pleasure he gained from taking his one true partner as his wife. His mind was open to her and for better or worst she was privy to every thought and emotion. It was a freeing union because one never need ask another what could be wrong or why something had played out a certain way, they merely knew. So there was some embarrassment for the King when he realized his wife had seen the glimpse of weakness. His hand moved to take hers and he turned towards her wholly before pulling her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her knuckles lovingly.

His eyes looked to his wife carefully before he offered her a smile, not just any smile, but his smile. Happiness was such a foreign emotion to his displayed on his face that anyone other than Alessandra would likely be taken aback by the way his lips curled up to reflect the warmth inside of him. Finally he breached the silence that had come between them. Although it was only a physical silence as they were always able to enjoy one another through the plane of the Force. "You are my jewel. My treasure." He said to her, his eyes washing over her thoughtfully, appreciatively before he leaned down and kissed the back of her knuckles once again. ​

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Though it pained him to admit it, Adron was a very dramatic man. With that need for flair and express also came a deep sense of romanticism and a love that few were lucky enough to experience. Although they were often conflicted by schedules and duty, it was in these moments when he held his wife's hands in his own that he was reminded of who they were together, which was so much more than they were apart. ​

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Once Alessandra had finished her wine Adron was sure to pay for the wine before leading her out of the shop. They stepped onto the street and almost immediately the King turned his eyes to a nearby library. He gestured to it before leading the way down the sidewalk. As they walked he spoke low enough so only his wife could hear him, just slightly over a whisper. "The Illyrian Mining Guild." He said while a hand came to his chin. "I believe they are the greatest threat to the Crown, as well as its greatest asset. The city of Azurine's library is...mysteriously curt on the subject. Perhaps a local library would provide more on the Guild?" He wondered. As they scaled the steps up the library, he continued. ​

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"All mining operations recognize the Guild and the Guild has openly dedicated themselves to the crown and an advanced Illyria. However it is strange, the Force surrounds them, protects them. I believe it is how they have remained constant on a world where change is the flavor of the day." He explained. "I need to find out just why this Guild has been allowed to prosper for thousands of years when all other organizations, including Monarchies, have fallen." ​

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[Alessandra Creed]

Adron Malvern​

There were times when she got so used to holding up appearances that she forgot to slow down and breathe. Her guard never lowered. She was suspicious by nature and believed only in the goodness of people that was lent by a notion of civilization. When it started to fail? Either morally or through underdeveloped means? People, as a whole, forgot the meaning of the word “civil” and instead became tribal. They defended themselves and their own to the teeth.

They were a tribe of less than a dozen people in a sovereign system that housed millions.

The feel of her husband’s hand to her thigh, regardless of the thick, plaid material of her skirt caused her to rise from her silent musing like a naval ship from the depths of a nebula. She followed the line of bi-directional communication that ran between them and found the small pebbles of insecurity that lingered on the shore of his mind. It was a peaceful place, despite, his propensity for progression and attaining the unattainable. The color drained from tawny chestnut eyes and an inky blackness briefly pooled from her iris.

He would feel the gentle breeze of her power that welcomed him. She would walk along his mindscape and pick up the rocks and stones that weighed heavily on him, briefly, tossing them out to sea. Skipping them across the water where his supposed weakness would be no more.

She would support him in every moment. High and low. Now and forever.

“We have time.”

His smile drew one of her own while he sought to distract her with tenderness. Adron was truly a man of many faces, many talents. The face that he gave the public was a man that she admired, though, it was not the man she had fallen in love with. She knew the man who held her close while her body rejected bacta, painfully, and placed her needs before his own. She knew the one that protected their family at all costs. The one that smiled at her, like this, and the small winery melted away.

Alessandra momentarily forgot the shopkeep, the wine, and the issues at hand. It was only for a second. When his lips touched the back of her hand her eyes closed. Just one moment of peace amid a constant cacophony of madness and duty. “A Ki—“, she paused, remembering their current persona, and corrected herself with a lilting, teasing tone. ”A man requires his jewel.”

The desire to wrap her arms around him was strong enough that he was sure he could feel it. That easy warmth, quiet safety, all the while laced with a hint of seductive desire. The phantom sensation would have to be enough for now. Alessandra held a wild temper, though, when impassioned she could be just as dramatic as her husband. They just had different ways of accomplishing their goals.

With the wine gone and the quaint shop falling away Alessandra fell into the pattern of listening to Adron speak. She knew more about Illyria than she let on and always let him continue. Mostly, just to hear the sound of his voice. When it came to the Illyrian Mining Guild, she had her suspicions, though, she also had solutions. Knowledge and coin were a form of fluid power and she held both things in spades. “Where the library is silent; The nobility can’t stop talking.”

“We’ve seen things like it before. Faceless, nameless, that seize power through a variety of means.”

“Perhaps—Even alchemical.”

Alessandra had long suspected that something was different on Illyria. She just didn’t know what. There was something that drew them onward. Pressed them into bringing a backwater into a more modern era. She would have never imagined becoming a Queen a short few years ago. Never, had she imagined ruling a planet. She had always imagined that her life would be an exciting game of clever contracts and numbers. The transfer of the capital from Geonosis to Naboo was…Still jarring.

“Let us look while we’re here. It can’t hurt. It would also give me more insight on how intensive education programs need to be.”, she added in, offering a slight smile, while her arm slipped through his and her fingers grasped the edge of her long skirt so as not to fall up the stairs. More often than not taking a look at the tools a community had to work with were directly indicative of their technological and intellectual prowess. Or lack, thereof.

Dark eyes trailed up toward the historic building and she noted the distinctive gothic elements. It seemed structurally sound from the outside. Something about it kept her focus. Perhaps, it was the fact that such a structure had been erected without the use of modern tools. At the very least the Illyrian people were hardy by nature. Strong and resilient. “The cult we met when we crash-landed…”

“I know we dealt with the followers. But, what if that wasn’t the root?”

Just the stem.