Ep V: Chapter 14

Scora pounds her fist on the table. A lot of diners are staring.

Embarrassed, Enthea glares at her.

“You said you’d stop,” she scolds.

“I apologized! I didn’t say that I’d stop.”

“I can use the **** to make you stop.”

“Jedi magic? I like the sound of that. But there’s an easier way,” Scora says, sobering a little.

“What?”

“Answering my question. The maid.”

“No,” Enthea moans, putting her face in her hands.

“What do you think? Human? Twi’lek? A Zeltron?”

“Hutt,” Enthea says.

Scora smiles. “Human, I’ll bet.”

“Bet away,” Enthea says, waving her hand dismissively.

“You’re sure that an especially charming, roguish Zeltron wouldn’t suit you?”

Enthea matches Scora’s gaze. “Are you offering to dress as a maid?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you out of those robes one more time.”

“You have a thing for Dathomirians?”

“Only the pretty ones.”

Embarrassed, Enthea hides behind her water glass. A droid server approaches and leans down to speak quietly to Scora, whose expression turns to alarm. Enthea senses no danger but readies herself all the same.

“What’s the matter?” she asks, seeing the look of genuine surprise mixed with panic on Scora’s face.

“Nothing,” Scora replies jerkily, pushing to her feet and putting on a big smile. She turns and waves as the doors open to admit a slim woman in a bulky and flamboyant garment. It’s a shadow cloak, but the woman wearing it doesn’t look Umbaran. Or rather, not fully Umbaran. She’s not gaunt and frightening enough, and she has lovely, flowing hair so blonde that it’s nearly white. She’s beautiful.

“Darling,” Scora says brightly, spreading her arms as she moves to meet her.

The woman hurries eagerly to her, and Scora takes her in her arms and kisses her deeply. Some of the diners applaud and cheer.

“Everyone, my betrothed, Princess Myra Corren of Alderon,” Scora says, holding Myra’s hand and waving. “She’s arrived a day early. This is cause for celebration. Drinks for everyone. On me, naturally.”

The diners cheer and applaud.

Myra does a little curtsy with her flowing, grayish cloak. She looks past Scora at Enthea, who is still seated at Scora’s table, which is set for only two.

“Who’s your friend, Dearest?” she asks, rather firmly pulling Scora’s hand to bring her to the table.

“This? This is a Jedi from Coruscant. She’s protecting me,” Scora says.

“Oh?” The princess looks Enthea up and down, taking in her robes and Dathomirian features.

“Speaking of which, where’s that bodyguard that I hired for you?” Scora asks with a frown, looking around.

“Oh, who remembers?” the princess replies absently, her gaze still fixed on Enthea.

Enthea rises and steps aside, bowing.

“I’m here to keep you both safe,” she says calmly.

“What’s your name, Jedi?”

“Enthea Ro.”

“Hmm,” is all the princess says as she moves closer to Scora. “Hadn’t you better ask for a third chair, Dearest?”