ELEVEN

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011. BE UNDER NO ILLUSION

( To know and understand the reality or truth of a situation. )



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"With all due respect, your grace, they started it."

"I don't care who started it," the king dismissed. "I'll finish it."

While Myra stood in the throne room of the Theed royal palace, she did not think she would arrive here in shackles. She was enraged, for being accused of thievery and trying to charm a young vendor. She had merely extended a hand to a young girl who seemed to be at the verge of starvation. She did not think that unthinkable plucking of fruit who mean a trial in court.

Speaking off, the capital palace was outrageously elegant. It had been designed to be rich and flowing, blending finely with the virescent valleys and forests around them. It was a carved stone haven, the ground beneath Myra's bare feet smooth like marble and uncountable marble pillars holding up the regal architecture. A pleasant change from Iego's sepulchres and fiery thrones, seeing that the throne chair itself was embellished in crystals and rubies to form an elegant coat of arms. 

"What are you?" The king asked, his eyes suspiciously sweeping over her body while trying to assume her profession. She could read his considerations—all of them vile. 

A young-looking male, the king, relaxed over the throne, his hand resting over the side in a thoughtful gesture. He adorned the natural attire of the planet—same crappy cotton—and an intricate tawny crown perched over his forehead. His wife, the queen, was quite the vision; from head-to-toe polished to be paramount and the best right-hand side of the king.

 Despite their flawless court and built-in confidence, the yhad the same pain lingering in their hearts. The sounds of a child would never grace the halls, afraid that an heir would never be born to the citizens of Theed, Naboo. 

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