ILLUMINATE • din djarin

PART FOURTEEN

Venelia had a slight headache when she'd woken up that morning; a side-effect from consuming the strong Olitian beverages that she wasn't used to at the ball the previous night. She only had a couple of glasses throughout the night – Olitians liked their liquor, and it would be impolite to refuse especially now when she was trying to sustain an allyship. 

But even so, she had clung to the glasses of liquid with an iron grip, one of her two lifelines for getting through the night. The other lifeline was that of the Mandalorian, whose presence beside her all night had been her anchor in more ways than one.

She stretched in the sheets as the sun streamed into the room before blinking up the ceiling. She'd underestimated how much she had needed the Mandalorian last night. She hadn't anticipated how much she missed her parents, and how difficult it was to attend that ball without them. But the knowledge of the Mandalorian standing with her grounded her nerves and kept her sane among the night's festivities.

She'd told him that much and more as they danced, and her face heated up the memory of how she thanked him so earnestly and openly. 

It wasn't something she had planned on doing, it just came out in the moment – perhaps knowing that the Reclamation was approaching, and their time together was entering its final act. Venelia didn't know what it was about him that made words tumble out of her like a landslide. He had this effect on her that both alarmed her and put her at ease. And even though she had been unable to see his face, she'd felt his reaction in the way that he had held her as they danced.

She thought back to the way she'd taken his arm and then to later, when that very arm was wrapped around her waist as they danced. The coldness of his beskar against the exposed part of her chest was tattooed on her skin, and she ran her fingers up her sternum as the memory of it ran through her head.

They'd been close like that before, with the hyperdrive and when he was teaching her to fight, but never like they were last night. He'd never pulled her closer like that, flush against his body. Whether he did it on purpose, she didn't know for sure – and it was for that reason that she vowed not to dwell on it. No matter how good it felt to be that close to him. They had just danced.

She pulled her hand away from her chest as if she'd been burnt as a knock sounded on the door and her Olitian handmaidens came in the room, greeting her cheerfully as they always did.

"Did you have a nice night at the ball, my lady?" Cressida asked, a lilt in her tone as smiled at her.

"I did, thank you." Venelia smiled sleepily at them, hoping her face wasn't too red as they helped her get ready for the morning in the dressing room.

Venelia redirected the conversation to them, asking about how they celebrated Idrysi. The ladies were quick to gush about the festivities that occurred down in the servants' quarters and the town adjacent to the citadel. Venelia smiled as she listened, they chattered animatedly about the dancing and food as they placed her in a black full-length bodysuit with a v-neckline embroidered with a gold design. A sheer cloak hung on her shoulders, lined in a gold trim that match the gold shoulder pads. 

The way they fussed over her throughout the weeks reminded her of Elaria, Rosalind and Mira. It made her heart ache she missed them so much. How they would chatter as they bustled around the room, how they would make her laugh. She missed the feeling of ease they provided. They were her best friends, her closest confidantes. They were the girls she had gushed about Altair to, the ones who helped her sneak out to meet him. And now they were gone because of him. 

That man had ruined everything she had ever cared about. Her friends. Her parents. Her planet. And he couldn't get away with it.

"My lady, you've been requested by the King and Queen in the throne room," Cressida came to inform her after a knock had sounded at her door as Venelia had finished getting ready.