He set his head to one side without looking to her, "Well I promised him the first dance- you know how tetchy he gets if someone steps in."
Mara smiled at his irreverent comment, keeping her eyes on the crowd though her complete attention was on him, reminding her of the journey up to the Patriot that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.
"Interesting," she said, nodding her head in mock consideration; "So who leads?"
He grinned, the unaffected air momentarily ruining his polished veneer, "Ah, that'd be telling."
She shook her head, stifling a grin, unable as ever to conceive of anyone speaking in such detrimental terms of the Emperor, though somehow since it was Luke, she found she didn't mind. "See, I thought you were gonna say you had to dance with Lady Kiria D'Arca."
He allowed the slightest of grimaces to show, for her benefit alone. "I'm trying hard to avoid it."
Mara turned to look ahead again, "You don't seem to be trying too hard to avoid her."
"I'm under orders." Luke excused, amused; was that jealousy?
He'd spoken to D'Arca just twice and, having fulfilled his order as far as he was concerned, had no intention of doing so again. Though in truth she'd been an unexpected distraction; elegant and striking, with caramel skin and almond eyes, she was an obviously ambitious socialite though she disguised it well, balancing it with a quick and witty mind and a spirited, game disposition which had drawn him in.
He felt a sudden pang of guilt at the thought and set it resolutely aside. And anyway, he had no further interest in her despite her obvious attentiveness to him - or at least, his position.
"Yeah, life's tough." Mara deadpanned, making Luke smile genuinely.
"Fortunately I have you to make it tougher- just in case I find a moment's peace."
"Hey, I'm not even trying yet."
"Really? Then you must be a gifted natural."
Mara frowned, her voice suddenly taking on an unexpectedly serious air, "Do I complicate things?"
"Yes, incredibly." Luke said without hesitation.
"Seriously."
"Seriously? Yes incredibly." he said again, refusing to be drawn into a serious discussion right now. When she continued to study him, he allowed, "Fortunately you're worth it."
She turned away, satisfied, and they remained silent for a few moments, content just to be close to each-other, Luke forgetting his orders and aims for a moment, Mara no longer caring what they were.
"Dance with me tonight- alone?" she said at last, without looking- and he knew what she asked.
Knew the risk they ran.
Mara remained still, not daring to turn, and Luke remained silent, gazing out into the crowds so long that she thought he'd chosen not to reply; that his silence was an answer in itself. He'd said a hundred times that the risks of meeting in the Palace were too great and he was right, of course.
"Tonight." he whispered in quiet agreement, then walked quickly off into the crowd, the tips of his fingers trailing lightly across her hip as he left, soft as his whisper, leaving her at stare at his receding form quickly lost in the crowd, her heart hammering, a flush in her cheeks.
.
.
.
Luke was deep in persuasive conversation with Captain Hoken when the chime sounded and the room fell to well-mannered silence, so he actually missed the announcement of the First Dance, realising only as every mind and every eye in the massive room turned to him, expectant.
For long seconds he remained perfectly still, though his face registered no surprise, only a polite indifference as the crowds parted in a whisper of expensive gowns.
After a few moments of consideration, politely broken by the slightly nervous prompting cough of Reece behind him, he set forward to the centre of the vast space. Easy as it would have been to create a scene, he had an agenda to fulfil tonight and Reece had been right when he'd maintained that Luke wouldn't do that by seeming a loose cannon to those he needed to impress with his potential as a future leader. Better to simply go with the flow and pick up where he'd left off in a few minutes time.
He made the long walk to the centre of the floor, reflecting how much he had changed that what would once have seemed an insurmountably daunting prospect was now viewed as little more than a minor nuisance- less than a glitch in the evening's plans.
As he reached the centre of the floor, a petite woman with warm olive skin and dark, oval eyes stepped gracefully towards him, the train of her ruby dress shimmering with each step.
He stopped before her as she curtsied perfectly and, though it wasn't strictly necessary, he took a half-step back and inclined his head slightly in a not-quite bow. Luke held out his hand in invitation, and the lithe, delicate woman stepped in and took it, the music beginning just as he rested his hand about her waist.
And they danced.
Something else that four years ago would have been inconceivable to him, but many hour's tutelage on the polite but dogged persistence of his assigned - and much maligned, if only for his title - Ministerial Representative of the Office of Court Culture and Protocol, had made even this, before so many, second nature. No more taxing than any other Court etiquette he had been force-fed in recent years.
For a long time he had resolutely ignored the fact that twice a week every week, a dance instructor arrived promptly at his apartments, at the request of the CCP Minister. The instructor and a dance partner waited patiently in the Perlemian Ballroom for the full hour of his supposed lesson before leaving, to return as ordered by the Minister for their next scheduled lesson, waiting in vain for their charge's attendance.
For well over a year this continued, a series of tutors and advisors arriving as commissioned to teach all aspects of protocol and etiquette, all waiting patiently, all pointedly ignored, though often Luke was in his apartments when they arrived- he simply walked by their assigned rooms without a second glance.
As the year rolled on, Luke was well aware that he was living on borrowed time; the Emperor would certainly have been made aware of his lack of attendance to any protocol lessons and sooner or later Luke knew he would be called on it, certainly in public and probably in some situation carefully chosen to inflict the greatest embarrassment. He'd held out a little longer, more out of stubborn refusal to be intimidated than any greater cause, but eventually, as he found it necessary to move in certain circles and project a certain image, it had become more of a impediment to be ignorant of such practices than to simply back down and learn them.
So he had reluctantly begun to attend, much to the surprise of his assorted tutors, genuinely committed to learning all that they could supply, viewing it more as ammunition than acquiescence. It irked him that it was necessary but he wasn't about to be hobbled or be judged and found wanting by those who considered such things important- not when it was so easily remedied. Yes, he still privately considered such things irrelevant and elitist, but age and experience were dampening that blunt, blind, obstinate will to something more manageable; tempering it to serve rather than hinder.
Hallin had been his usual erudite self in advising Luke to look on this as simply learning another language- one that, like Old Coruscanti, was essential to the world he now lived in. Having finally relented and learned the protocols, etiquette and complex machinations of Court life from a strictly self-serving point of view, he felt no discomfort in its use anymore. Familiarity bred, if not contempt than certainly confidence- relaxed poise in the presence of this unspoken language of countless rules and subtle conventions.
Whether he agreed with or despised them was irrelevant; close, often-illustrated knowledge of it enabled him to use, abuse it or hide behind them as he saw fit. The fact that everyone knew that he understood this complex, convoluted language meant that whether he chose to flout it or to enact it in itself became part of that language.