ILLUMINATE • din djarin

PART THIRTEEN

Those kinds of thoughts about Venelia had appeared in his mind suddenly these few weeks – the ones that admired her. When he would see her face after she left the strategy meetings with him, her optimism made an unfamiliar warmth bloom in his chest. 

He would never admit it aloud, but seeing her step lighter with her shoulders back as she walked tall – the confidence that was within outwardly shown in her body, he liked seeing her that way.

He could never imagine how hard these past two months have been for her, but seeing the way she'd transitioned from the runaway 'princess' he found weeks ago to the growing confident ruler she was now, he almost felt proud – maybe even privileged to see the beginnings of the great ruler she would make. 

And that surprised him too – because when had those feelings of pride and admiration manifest in him?

He run a gloved hand through his hair, now grown into the patchy trim he'd given it several weeks ago, before putting his helmet on. He took a deep breath before making his way to the door of his room and unlocking it. Once he stepped out into the corridor, he walked down past the ornate planter boxes holding native plants and to the door adjacent to his room.

Venelia's room.

He knocked gently on the door after he took a few moments to take a few deep breaths. Attending a ball was not something he has ever done before, and the idea of being in a large room with tens of guests, drinking wine and dancing dances he'd never learnt made an unfamiliar feeling of panic surface in his chest. What if he did the wrong thing and embarrassed not only himself but Venelia too?

Before he had time to ponder it anymore, the door opened to reveal a lady's maid. He went to speak but the girl curtsied at him, leaving him feeling awkward; he was unaccustomed to such things.

"Mandalorian, Duchess Venelia is expecting you. She's just getting ready."

"Oh, uh, good. I'll just wait out here," he said, stepping back from the door.

The lady's maid shook her head, a frown etching her features. "The Duchess asked for you to be let in when you arrived. So, please, come in." She stepped aside and the Mandalorian's mouth gaped under his helmet.

"She...she wants me in there?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes, please, come in," she repeated and opened the door wider for him to come in. There was no point arguing. Venelia had the authority here and if she's requested this, her lady's maids wouldn't stop until they'd fulfilled the request – as it had been in the weeks they'd been here.

The Mandalorian carefully walked into the room. It was much like his own, but much bigger. The large bed was in the centre of the room, encased with marble pillars at each corner. The balcony doors were open, the wind blowing the sheer white curtains. Off to the side were doors he guessed led to a bathroom. He walked past it all, following the lady's maid to another room to the left of the bed, on the side of the balcony.

She knocked on the door gently. "The Mandalorian is here, my lady," she informed Venelia.

"You can send him in, Cressida, thank you." He heard Venelia call from inside the room. He looked down at Cressida, and she gestured for him to go in. He looked back at the door, slowly opening it to reveal the small room. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her, making him stop in his tracks. 

She was standing on a small podium; another lady's maid was crouched as she fixed the hem of the gown Venelia adorned. It was a soft pink, and the dress' fabric shined almost metallically. It was a ballgown cut, the sleeves ballooned to her elbow, and the chest of the dress was a 'v' cut deeply all the way to the waist, beaded. Her hair was curled, half up in a complicated braid that sat at the back of her head. Small pink flowers were woven delicately into her hair.