kindest regards,

after spending what'd felt like endless hours of waiting, padmé could finally feel the weight of anticipation lifting while witnessing the genuine glint of excitement finding brienne's eyes, proving that their 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 appreciation towards plays and ballets had remained unchanging. for but a moment did a strange yet welcome sensation conquer her old poet's soul and bring in a breeze of youth she'd thought had disappeared somewhere along the way, or rather, changed its shape from a girl's powerful spirit into one of half a woman, half an ethereal being.

able to contain her own excitement only partially, the senator offered a full smile while her pulse ran louder than it had for quite a while. ❝ better than something completely new, i'd dare say ❞, she beamed, ❝ an old classic brought back to the spotlight. the theater had organized a vote on which performance the audience would like to see making a comeback this year. i somehow managed to miss the event but as soon as i learned the result, i booked our tickets. ❞ a breathtaking tale of a younger years' romance rekindled, all wrapped up in 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 and plotting. most importantly, the play had a satisfying and the most heartwarming closing chapter. padmé was sure it'd do good for both brienne and herself to witness a happy ending, as fictional as it in this case would be.

     “An old classic?” With her smile stretching to crinkle the corners of her youthful eyes, Brienne parrots the excitement Padmé exudes. Her mind is quick to run through the titles she’d expect adored by Coruscant’s performance culture, which is not unlike Aargau’s. Similar high-brow tastes percolate the wealthy Core. After all, her home planet’s central arts district hosts many of the shows Coruscant premieres first. “If back by popular demand, it must be highly rated.” Brows lift, wondering if she’ll divulge or leave it a surprise (or one to spoil later by perusing the theater’s schedule).

     Having such a thoughtful friend brings warmth to her chest; how fortunate to have her while navigating life on her own, so far away from family. “You are too generous a friend, thank you,” Brienne beams, while internally admitting the thought of browsing Padmé’s wardrobe would be overwhelming. If anyone has the most beautiful gowns, it’s her.

Leia lets out a girlish titter. Not too loud nor formal, but never shrill either. She's gotten the hand of schooling her natural instincts. Everything is a show put on for the world stage.

Leia has picked up a few tricks so far. Alot from Mon Mothma, some she gets watching Bail, and a few she learns on her own through trail and error.

She learns to drink. As she does before Madam Guyot. A show of bringing up her beverage and wetting her lower lip but never drinking. Rule one, always have a clear head in any public setting. But don't refuse an offer of food or drink.

There are other rules she does as she speaks with the other woman. She scans the room. Always making sure her back is never to the masses. Nor does she fully face the other woman. It keeps Leia aware of the coming and goings but always mindful of who might be over hearing.

For Leia knows she is being followed and listen too. Maybe its the ISB or maybe another Senator. But that has nothing to do with Leia personally, all of them are being spied upon.

     A senator, even a junior one at such a young age, is something that will continue to mystify Brienne, as do royal lineages that place one family in control of the planet’s government. Aargau’s is more bureaucratically defined despite the Bank Dynasties of old maintaining much hold over those processes. No one under the age of thirty-five sits that high up. But so is the diversity of the galaxy and the arena of the Senate. The Empire can only attempt to streamline it.

     Leia’s repose garners another polite chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t truly until I moved away from my home that I was completely free of the rules and regulations of my family’s estate. Hard is family follows you in this, though expected in your case.” Amusement carries, but consoling remains. Leia’s age is hard enough without the responsibilities of her inherited station. 

He nods, and notes it, and he certainly doesn't do anything more than tilt his head as she doesn't finish his sentence. People can do terrible things to others, and he hopes her family is not the cause of this situation, and hopes so dearly. But it doesn't change the way they have to consider the worst.

Especially when she's far most level-headed than most people would be, in her situation.

Enough so that her request, or her offer, is a reasonable one. A rather smart one.

"Very well. I would not have asked for the whole of it, because in the end I am in this profession to earn a living, but that is acceptable, if I am to ensure nobody manages to collect on it." He replies. And then, almost bemusedly, "Will you want to draft a contract as well?"

     “It is only fair considering,” she reiterates, brows tenting, trying to take this reconciliation optimistically. The larger amount felt prudent to offer, thinking it needs to be more than the amount he could have easily collected from his mystery client by bringing her in (alive or dead). Emphasis on easily, and much easier than solving who is behind this. And… What this? Ensuring nobody else collects?

     “Oh stars, I suppose there will be others, like you,” her voice trails off, gaze growing blank in its trepidation once more. Her heart doesn't slow its racing. There’s too much to consider.

⸻ ⛧ ❝ 𝘔𝘈'𝘈𝘔, 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘗𝘈𝘐𝘋 𝘔𝘌 𝘍𝘖𝘙 it. I'm a bloody fortune-teller, didn't you read the sign? ❞ Which is ironic because he can't read for anything. Though he did have a custom sign made for his stall anyway. Most police or stormtroopers just considered it a ruse & anyone satisfied didn't find it necessary to report him. His tone was rather deflated, more tired than angry. Upset wouldn't do him any good if she actually was to draw attention to all this.

A jar of cleaner in hand & a fresh rag, he motions for her to give him her arm with a huff, ❝ Report me for doing what? My job? ❞ If she let's him clean off her arm, he would at least be gentle about it. Preferably attempting to be quick as well as he no longer wanted to let this have any more attention than was unnecessary.

There is a part of him that wants to scold her, just a little. Claim his dyslexia, that this was the best job he could acquire as most labor jobs required reading a manifest. At least the ones that paid enough. ( then again, it technically didn't pay the bills ) After all, fortune-telling was hardly the most illegal thing he's done. ❝ If you weren't willing to believe in coincidences or something similar, why stop my cart anyway? Does the phrase no thank you ever come to mind? ❞

     Brienne’s nose crinkles before wide eyes, still strained in shock, tick over to the sign she did indeed read prior to approaching the man’s cart. Fortune teller. Readings. Paintings... Of course, the paintings she didn’t fully realize would be on her own skin until it was too late to politely back out. After folding her ruined scarf, she hesitantly offers her arm.

     “Well, I,” words softly fail, and glossy lips close a moment as he points out one of her major flaws: being unable to say no. “I didn’t want to be rude,” especially after having been hailed over to browse. “And that was not mere coincidence. You’re supposed to give some nondescript, vague nonsense that applies to a general population. Not be pinpoint specific.” 

     Voice lowers as she continues, trying to reel in her concern. “There used to be a cult of sorcerers here that could do the same, know too much, read people’s minds, and influence them to do their bidding. They are all dead or scattered, only to be hunted down like criminals." Their name is taboo and will go unsaid. "Word gets around that you have that power and,” mouth closes shut; he can finish that sentence.

In truth, were it not Yan's own homeworld, and thus the seat of power of the one leading the Separatists, he doesn't entirely expect it would be very noticed.

"Is it?" He says, merely an interjection, as she speaks of her home planet, and then considers it.

     The conversation turns to Aargau, but Brienne mills over Serenno a moment longer. The name does sound familiar but then there’s been a lot of names and star systems mentioned on holonews segments and in tabloids over the last weeks to delay the connection. This war is so confusing.