Padmé awoke as the sun crested the hills. Her backside tingled from the hard marble bench. A heavy, black arm clutched her torso and pressed her body against her husband's armor. She gazed at the dark figure, his respirator mechanically breathing for him as he dozed.
Moving slowly as not to disturb, she extricated herself from his grasp. As she stood, Anakin revived out of his trance.
She smiled at him. "Good morning, Ani." Her face was alight, ready to take on the day.
He grumbled. "'Morning." He creaked as he stood. His robotic gears whined.
"You never were a morning person, were you?" She donned her headdress with the sun's rays bathing her face in radiant light.
Anakin moved close to his wife, grabbing her by the waist. "Oh, I was a morning person. Don't confuse not wanting to get out of bed with not being awake. I definitely looked forward to mornings with you."
She blushed at his teasing. "Well, if I am going to preserve my reputation, I had better get back to Luke, I mean Biggs. Oh, these names are so confusing, Ani."
He grabbed her hand and raised a finger to her lips. "Shh. They are necessary for now." He lifted his head. "The corridor is clear now. Head on back. I'll leave a few minutes after you, just in case anyone sees you."
"Just like old times?"
Anakin nodded his helmet. "Like old times, Angel. I must report to my master. I'll meet you here after the midday meal."
"Don't be late." Padmé's eyes twinkled.
"I am never late."
Padmé swiveled her cape and dress as she reattached her veil and headed into the villa. Anakin returned to his place of meditation and gazed out at the lake as the sun rose.
When Padmé returned to the suite she shared with Luke, the rooms stood empty. She looked under the beds and in the wardrobes. The refresher was vacant, too. He was gone.
Ani's going to kill me if anything happens to him. Where did he run off to, now?
Padmé quickly ran out of the room into the corridor, heading for the transit area. She encountered the affable Lieutenant Piett, seemingly just awoken himself. "Lieutenant, have you seen Lord Vader?"
The polite young man sighed. "Again, Lady Quemé? I thought you had charge of the boy. Lord Vader does not want to be disturbed. How many times do I have to tell you?"
Vader, hearing the commotion, joined the couple in the corridor. "Pa- Lady Quemé. What seems to be the trouble?"
"Lu-Lord Vader, the boy is missing. He's not in his room." Her eyes widened with fear as she imagined a variety of dangers he could be in.
Vader ranged out with the Force. "He's fine. He's just gone exploring." He cut off a chuckle. "Lieutenant, you will find the boy down by the lake shore in a tree. Return him to his quarters. Then join me on the Executor."
"Yes, Lord Vader." The lieutenant nodded.
As Piett turned to leave, Vader sighed. The Sith Lord lifted his arm and waved it slowly. "And take a towel. Young Darklighter seems to have fallen in the lake."
Quemé hitched up her skirts and started to run, but Vader's strong hand on her arm prevented her. "He's fine. Let Piett bring him in. Have him cleaned up and ready to leave by this afternoon. And, Lady Quemé, find something more suitable for the boy to wear."
She curtsied. "Yes, my lord."
When Lieutenant Piett and Biggs arrived at the suite, the boy shivered so hard that his blue lips waggled.
Quemé quickly patted him down with a towel, looking down the corridor at the stream of water he had dripped during his passage. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I will take care of him now. Sorry about the mess."
"That is the least of my worries, Lady Quemé." The lieutenant exited, leaving the boy to the governess's care.
She shut the door and pointed her finger at the boy. "Biggs, don't you ever do anything like that again. You could have drowned." She clutched him to her chest. "You scared me. I thought I would lose you."
She started stripping the wet tunic from the little boy.
Biggs shrugged her off. "I can undress myself. I'm not a little kid."
"Well, I've drawn the bath. Go get into the tub," she said as she pulled a robe out of the wardrobe. "Put this on when you come out."
Biggs held it up, sizes too big for him, and laughed.
"Go on now, and do as I say."
"Yes, Quemé." He entered the refresher room. "Hey, where were you this morning?"
But he was speaking to an empty room. Quemé had left.
Lady Quemé and Biggs Darklighter strolled the marble corridors of the Villa Varykino, slurping on juicy pears that fine morning. The governess instructed the young man in Nubian history and geography, but inside Padmé's mind was racing about how she was going to tell Biggs who she was.
Oh, he's going to be angry. I should have told him as soon I realized it. He's not going to want anything to do with me. I abandoned him. He won't understand it was for his safety.
She stared at him as the juice of his pear left a trail on the marble floor.
He'll hate me more if I don't tell him. And there's no way to hide it. He's going to find out soon.
Each room in the villa was dedicated to a different monarch, allowing the young boy to learn a name and a date, as well as to put a face with the name. Each room also held artistic renderings of the main events in each monarch's life, which added to Biggs's understanding.
By the end of the morning, Quemé insisted on visiting one more chamber before heading to the terrace for lunch.
"I don't want to," he whined.
She passed her hand over the fingerprint scanner and lifted her eye for the retinal scan. Quemé turned to him and held her finger to his lips, "Shh. This won't take long. This is our most important queen."
Biggs entered as the door slid open, revealing a formal dining room. He wandered around the room, reading datapads that sprung to life as he approached paintings of the Naboo Trade Federation Siege about twenty-four years before.
Quemé said from behind him, "Padmé Naberrie Amidala was only fourteen when she took office."
Luke gasped. "This is my mother?" He ran his left hand over a portrait of her in the regal garb. Her face was painted white with the blood stripe down her lips. A heavy headdress and ermine robes weighed down the slight figure.
The governess nodded. "She was responsible for freeing her people and uniting both the humans and Gungans into one planetary force. She served for two terms and then continued in public service as a Galactic Senator alongside Sheev Palpatine."
Biggs' brain was fuzzy after all the names he had learned today, but "Palpatine" seemed familiar to him. "I think I've heard of him before. Who is he?"
Quemé led Biggs to another painting, showing the aged senator before he was elected as Chancellor of the Republic. "This is Palpatine. He is now the Galactic Emperor. A Sith Master named Darth Sidious."
Biggs drew back in fear.
"Beware of him. He only wants what is best for himself, not others. He knows how to make you think you are doing the right thing when you are not. Don't trust him. Ever."
"Yes, Lady Quemé."
"Come over here. I want you to see what she really looked like underneath the state robes and makeup."
She led the boy to a larger-than-life-sized painting that hung above the fireplace in the middle of one wall. A heavy maroon curtain covered it, preserving the pigments from the ultraviolet rays of the room's light.
Quemé pushed a button on the wall panel, which caused the curtain to rise slowly. It first revealed a beautiful violet gown of velvet that hung from an empire waist and gathered around the lady's bust.
Biggs craned his neck up, trying to see every detail as the curtain slowly moved. Finally, the lady's chin and curly chestnut hair appeared. Then her lips and teeth. Her nose was next, and then her eyes appeared. Luke continued to stare at every detail of the picture.
Biggs looked at the inscription and then at Quemé. Tears welled up in the little boy's eyes as he stared at the image again, trying to memorize each aspect. "Does Lord Vader know about this room?"
"Yes, Luke. Your father knows."
He turned to the governess again at those words—he was not sure if he were more shocked that she knew his name or that she had removed her headdress and veil in the intervening moments. He gazed at the woman, knowing he was seeing the woman in the picture standing right before his eyes.
She stood beside the painting, smiling exactly the same as in the picture. Yes, there were a few more wrinkles on her face, but there was no denying they were the same person.
Padmé knelt down and embraced her son. "Luke, I'm your mother." She hugged her little boy, saying his name—his real name—over and over. "Oh, Luke, I wanted to tell you last night, but . . ."
"Daddy. You were with Daddy, weren't you?"
Padmé nodded. "Yeah. We had eight years of catching up to do." She bit her lip before asking, "Can you ever forgive me for letting you go?"
"Nothing to forgive. A week ago I had no parents. Today, I have them both. It just seems unreal."
Padmé took the boy's head and held it close to her chest. "I know. I never thought I would see you again. I'm never letting you go again, Luke."
"But Daddy wants me with him all the time."
"I know. I'm not letting him go either. Never again. All I want is to love you both."
And Leia.
Did you know . . .
● Luke has a deep capacity for love. Some will say it comes from Padmé, but I think it's from Anakin. I'll concede it is from both.
Tell me what you think . . .
● What problems do you think exist to get Leia back?