"You've caused quite the stir for yourself of late," Caedes said.
"Yes, well, they say hell hath no fury for a woman scorned," replied Lady Ovmar, easily.
"But they don't warn you just how dramatic a man can be."
Caedes nodded his agreement, ceding to her point.
"To what do we owe the pleasure of the Red Hand's visitation this far along the Daragon Trail?"
"It's been a long time since I made the pilgrimage to the Valley," she confirmed, vaguely.
"Besides, I could hardly refuse an invitation from my favourite student."
Darth Caedes leaned back slightly, his golden eyes studying the pair as they settled into their seats. Revna's usual defiance was tempered now, her gaze dipping slightly to avoid his piercing scrutiny. Her evasiveness intrigued him, but what truly caught his attention was the undercurrent of gratitude radiating through their bond in the Force. It was soft and unspoken, a quiet acknowledgment of her trust in him—a trust that was growing like a flame carefully stoked.
A notion often discarded by Sith philosophy, yet here it was, a marker of Revna's healing from her late Master's death. It wasn't a powerful emotion in the traditional sense, but Caedes considered it something deeper: the pliability of an apprentice who could be reshaped, a weapon in the midst of being molded. Satisfied with her progress, he extended tendrils of pleasure through the Force, letting her feel his approval. Pride was the foundation upon which ambition could be built.
Lodd Grimmin broke the moment, voice carrying a note of intrigue.
"We thank you for such friendship then, Great King."
Caedes turned his gaze toward Grimmin, expression neutral as he reached for a decanter and filled Revna's glass with a thick, heady wine. The Trade Monarch's thoughts swirled with conspiratorial ambition—not for himself alone, but for Caedes too. In Grimmin's mind, he saw visions of an Emperor's mantle draped over his own shoulders, visions of Caedes ruling not just Korriban but the galaxy. Treasonous thoughts, but useful ones.
Meeting Grimmin's smile with a knowing look, Caedes smirked.
"Your loyalty is as invaluable as your vision, Lodd. Let us see to what heights we may yet ascend."
The approach of Diarch Rellik drew his attention next. Caedes rose to meet him, his posture regal yet approachable.
"Thank you for the invitation," Rellik said smoothly, clasping his wrist in a firm grip.
"It is an honor."
"The honor is mine, Lord Diarch," Caedes insisted.
Around them, servants moved with a practiced grace, refilling glasses and clearing plates unnoticed and at opportune moments. Diarch Reign, already seated, offered a sly smile to his brother.
"Welcome to the table, brother. Have you had your fun?"
Caedes allowed himself a grin, retaking his seat as he observed their exchange.
"Hopefully, all the dignitaries are too focused," Reign whispered, leaning in to Caedes' ear, conspiratorially. Too focused "to notice the mess these children are making," he went on.
"You misunderstand, Reign," replied Caedes, considering his words.
"Spectacle is precisely what they've come to see," he confided, sweeping his gaze across the feast's attendees.
"Achievement, for a Sith, derives its true worth not merely in the doing, but in doing what others could not."
As if cued by his words, the holo screens flashed, cutting to a young girl in the swerving corridors of the Nethermaw Tunnels, her starfighter trailing smoke and flame from a crashed racer nearby.
Leshanna
, the captions read. The crowd murmured with interest, students pointing and beginning to place quiet bets. Caedes paid his attention to that look in her eyes, fierce, determined, and for a moment the camera's angle made it seem as if she stared back at him.
"After all," he mused, distractedly.
"What is triumph without the failures of others to set against it for comparison?"
Returning focus to the present moment, Caedes stood and, without looking, held out his hand. Obediently, a waiting servant offered him wine and he took it. Raising the proffered drink, its thick liquids swirling and bleeding back down to collect in the goblet's round belly, he offered a toast.
"To unity," he began, leaning and offering his glass forward in cheers.
"To the strength we forge and represent here, together."
His gaze lingered on
Revna
, then
Lina Ovmar
and
Lodd Grimmin
, on
Elmindra Xitaar
, before turning to the Diarchs.
"Tonight, I invite that we do more than share a table. That we share a vision—a future shaped by our will, united."
He raised his glass higher, his voice a clarion call.