Empire Day ✓

Chapter 13 - The Governess

Quemé sat at a small table in one of the gardens, watching her charge. The sunset painted the sky every hue from blue and red to gold and orange. Biggs's eyes widened, taking in the splendor as they ate their evening meal together in this secluded garden. She smiled at him, enjoying the innocence of this young boy.

He rattled on as he shoveled food into his mouth. "I never thought sunsets could be any prettier than Tatooine, but I've never seen so many colors in the sky all at once before."

"You've been to Tatooine?" Quemé leaned in.

"That's where I'm from. It's all I knew before I came here." He slurped the noodle hanging from his lips. "Hey, have you ever climbed trees before?"

Quemé smiled at him under her veil, her eyes scrunching together. This boy is too precious. I want to keep him—anything to keep from the Sith. "I seem to recall doing that once or twice when my mentors weren't looking." Her eyes twinkled.

Biggs looked at the tree on the earthen terrace below them and then smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "Do you think that tree is strong enough to hold us?"

Quemé pushed away her plate and stood. She crossed to the edge of the garden and looked beyond the hedge that formed the safety barrier. "Only one way to find out." She gathered her skirts and hurried down the steps to the next terrace. "Well, aren't you coming, Biggs?"

The little boy ran down the steps, racing past his governess. She made it to the first limb two meters above, but Biggs was stuck, unable to reach the first limb. She reached down and pulled him up.

He then scampered up the limbs that were closer together, sitting on one large limb about three meters from the top of the tree. "Come on, Quemé! The view up here is magnificent. The stars are coming out." He scooted toward the middle of the branch, making room for the woman.

As Quemé climbed, a branch caught her headdress, ripping and falling to the ground. When she had reached Biggs's branch, she gingerly sat on it with him, hoping it would not crash to the ground with her added weight. She peered down where her headdress had fallen, realizing they must have climbed at least ten meters.

Biggs looked at her, his eyes widening.

"What's wrong?" Quemé asked.

"Your face is bleeding—above your eye."

Quemé raised her hand above her eyebrow. Warm liquid oozed out. She pressed her palm to the abrasion, stemming the flow of blood. "So it is." She giggled. "What would the queen say if she saw me like this?"

Biggs laughed with her, his eyes unable to pull away from his governess. 

"Stop looking at me like that, Biggs." She punched his shoulder in play. "I might think you have a crush on me."

"I can't help it. You're beautiful."

"How would you know?" Quemé said, glowing with the praise but uncomfortable with the source.

"Well, you're more beautiful than my aunt. Maybe Jabba's slave girl was prettier . . ."

She frowned. "What were you doing looking at slave girls, young man?"

He turned his eyes down at his hands, his cheeks flushing. "She was at the pod races with Jabba. I didn't really get a good look at her."

She regretted teasing him now. He was just a boy, and a young one at that. She changed the subject quickly. "So, tell me what made you want to become a Sith Lord."

He stared at his hands, fidgeting with them. "I don't want to be a Sith, but it is either that or death."

"Biggs, trust me, you can't become one. You are too innocent. Haven't you seen the horrible things that Vader has done? Do you want to become that monster?"