The Mark of the Crown(8)

Jono reached out a tentative hand and took the fruit from Obi-Wan.

“The beginning was the hardest,” he said, popping it into his mouth.

“The Jedi Temple is calm and beautiful. It is my home, and yet it is not a home, like everyone else has.”

“That’s just the way I feel!” Jono agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Obi-Wan. “The palace was too grand at first. And I missed the smell of the sea. But now I feel at home. I know my duty, and I am proud to do it. There is honor in serving my Queen.” He met Obi-Wan’s gaze steadily. “But I do not spy.”

At that moment, Obi-Wan and Jono became friends. Jono continued to accompany him on his walks through Galu, but instead of silently staying a short pace behind him, Jono walked beside Obi-Wan, sharing stories of the city and of Deca Brun, his hero.

“The Queen is right to call for elections,” Jono told him. “Deca Brun wilt help Gala to rise again. He is for all the people, not just rich people.”

Jono never asked again about Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan knew Jono suspected that Qui-Gon had left the palace. He appreciated his guide’s silence. He did not have to lie to Jono any longer. His friend asked no questions.

Jono often spoke of his family. Even though he rarely saw them, his connection to them was strong. Obi-Wan came to envy Jono’s deep commitment. He had left behind a concept of family when he took up his destiny as a Jedi. His allegiance was to the Jedi Code. Was this choice the right one? Suddenly the Jedi Code seemed so much more abstract than the ties of blood.

Heritage. Legacies. He wished he could speak of what he was feeling to Qui-Gon. But his Master wouldn’t understand. He was deeply committed to the Jedi Code. He did not look back and wonder what he was missing.

And besides, he had abandoned Obi-Wan in order to chase a ghost. Evenings were long in Gala. The sun set early, and the three moons rose slowly in the navy sky. Obi-Wan liked to walk in the orchard at that hour, when the pale gleam of moonlight turned the fruit on the trees to silver.

One evening he was surprised to find Queen Veda sitting on the grass, her back against the thick, multistemmed trunk of a muja tree. She wasn’t wearing her headdress, and her pale gold hair spilled down to her waist. She looked like a young girl until Obi-Wan drew closer and saw the wasting of illness on her face.

“Sit down, young Obi-Wan,” she said, gesturing next to her. “I, too, like the orchard at this time.”

Obi-Wan sat next to her, cross-legged and erect in Jedi fashion. He had not seen the Queen since he’d arrived. She looked shockingly worse.

“I like the smell of the grass,” Queen Veda murmured, running her hands through it. “Before I was sick, I used to like to look at it from my window. I looked at everything from a window. Now I find I must touch it and smell it and be part of it.” She placed a bit of grass in Obi-Wan’s palm and closed his fingers over it. “Hold on to life, Obi-Wan. That is my only piece of advice to you.”

Obi-Wan saw the marks of tears on the Queen’s face. He wished Qui-Gon were here. His Master’s calm compassion soothed even the most fevered hearts. What would Qui-Gon say?

He would start with something neutral, but sympathetic. He would let the Queen speak, knowing she needed a willing space to talk. “You are not feeling better,” he said carefully.

“No, I am feeling worse,” Queen Veda said, resting her head against the trunk. “The pain is very bad at night. I can’t sleep. By the middle of the day I feel somewhat better, but at night it begins again. That’s why I come out here, before the pain gets bad. I want to remember days I felt well. Days in the country…”

The Queen sighed.

“In the country?” Obi-Wan prompted.

“The Tallahs have a country estate west of here,” Queen Veda said.

“Just after I had fallen ill I went there to recuperate. Maybe it was the fresh air. Or maybe,” she said ruefully, “it was being able to rest. No Council of Ministers calling me to meetings. No servants to buzz around me. Just the caretaker and myself. But then it seemed the government could not run without me, so they came to me. Within days, I felt worse than ever. That was the worst thing,” she said sadly. “To feel that I was getting better, and then to relapse.”

“But why don’t you return?” Obi-Wan asked.

“The elections consumed my time at first,” the Queen said. “Now I am too weak to travel. So my doctors tell me. And they are the best in Galu. Every day has been the same for me. Hope that I am recovering. Then despair. Now hope is gone. I’m just waiting.”

Obi-Wan looked at her. The moons had risen higher, painting her pale face with a silvery cast. He saw again that she had once been beautiful.