Preyuna left Isellta in the recovery room. Someone would come for him. One of Mark Caten’s many minions.
She entered her bedroom and turned on the lights around her vanity mirror. She sat down.
She looked at her reflection.
I am a queen.
I am Queen Preyuna of the Fey.
Yet, Mark Caten makes me feel like something lower than a beggar.
I’m tired of it.
I want it to stop.
If he will not set me free, I want him to treat me like the queen I am.
I want him to acknowledge my worth.
My right to tell him no.
Such thoughts and desires are air dreams.
Wispy clouds that disappear with the wind.
He can only see me as something to toy with.
Something to use.
He will never see me as anything of value.
He will never acknowledge my regency.
She shut the vanity lights off.
“He will never set me free.”
I must hold still.
I must bide my time.
I must wait for Hildreth Mayhew to fail in his attempt to kill Ambrose Smith.
I will put my plan into action.
I will have his minions kidnap the one Ambrose Smith loves and bring her here.
She smiled. It was neither beautiful nor kind.
Ambrose Smith will kill him.
I know he will.
I will finally be free.
My plan will succeed.
It will not fail.
I know it won’t.
Hildreth and Elsie managed to get through Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones back to back.
Halfway through Revenge of the Sith, however, they started to get slap happy.
“I’m telling you, if Anakin had a puppy, he never would have turned to the dark side.” said Hildreth. “Look at him. Look at that face. That is a man who desperately needs a puppy.”
“Couldn’t he just adopt a wookie?” said Elsie.
“Hmm. I’m willing to bet he could find a decent wookie adoption center on Coruscant. That place was bustling like mad. They even had a cheapo 1950’s diner. They must have had a wookie adoption center around there somewhere.”
“Maybe he could fight Han Solo for Chewbacca.”
“Yeah. I like that idea. A fight to the death. Only question is what would be their weapon of choice? Blasters, lightsabers, or swords?”
“I vote for bullwhip.”
“Aww, you can’t do that. That’s jumping franchises.”
She shrugged. “Same creator. Oh.”
The Jedi council room doors slid open. A hooded figure strode through.
The younglings crept out from behind their masters’ chairs, clearly relieved to see a familiar face. Someone they trusted. He would have a plan. He would protect them.
Hildreth looked down at her and smiled gently.
“Master Skywalker, there’s too many of them. What are we going to do?”
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Anakin didn’t reply. He looked down at the small blond boy with an expression wrecked with anger and sorrow.
She leaned against him. “I hate this part.”
His lightsaber’s blue blade sprang to life. The blond youngling took an uncertain step back.
“At least they don’t show him doing it.”
She shook her head. “That makes it worse. It forces the viewer to imagine him slaughtering those children. The images one’s mind can create are always worse than the reality.”
“Huh. Is that so?” He kissed the side of her head. “Elsie.”
She looked up at him.
He kissed her again. “Elsie. I’ve missed you. Every time. Every single time that we’ve been separated, oh Elsie. I’ve missed you so much.”
She moved into his lap, her legs straddling him. “I’ve missed you too.” She ran her fingers through his hair.
He closed his eyes.
“You dear, wonderful idiot.”
“Hildreth.” She kissed him. One light kiss that turned quickly into one hundred passionate kisses.
He spread his hands on her back and pushed her closer.
She grabbed his hair.
And the tv set exploded.
And it went up in flames.
Elsie and Hildreth broke off and stared at the burning tv set.
“Never mind the how.” She climbed out of his lap. “Help me put it out before the whole room catches on fire.”