The betrothal for the wip asks
Oh! You chose a good one! This is an arranged marriage AU in a universe where Order 66 never happened, and the fathers of both Zeb and Kallus are Senators. They arrange their sons' mating to form a political alliance. The fathers are on board with the idea, the grooms-to-be, not so much. Here's a sneak peek!
It speaks volume about Zeb's intentions that he's in his office, catching up on datawork —which he hates to do— long after his shift has ended. He's aware that the tactic fools no one, but that doesn't mean he can't try. The later he gets home, the better.
"Garazeb?"
He shifts his gaze from the datapad in his hand to the person waiting at the door. His eyes widen when he recognizes who it is.
"Your Highness," —he stands quickly and bows, knocking down the stack of datapads on his desktop in his haste— "Sorry, I, um— What are you doing here? Is anything wrong?"
Zaleli, the Queen of Lasan, looks at him with a smile and gives a slight shake of her head. Walking into the office, she carries herself with regal elegance, pausing in front of his desk. "I was looking for you to ask you the same thing. Shouldn't you have gone home hours ago? I thought your father had a special dinner tonight."
Garazeb mutters a curse and rubs his face with his hand. The heat of embarrassment finds its way up to his ears, making them flick with discomfort. Suspicions about the reason for the queen’s presence in his office make his stomach drop to the floor. His little stunt of hiding in his office wasn’t enough for his father to get the hint, to leave him alone. Usually, his dad sticks to the protocol and deference toward the sovereign. However, his sense of property has gone awry with the latest scheme he has in the works, and it has become obvious he’s willing to even involve the queen.
"Please, tell me he did not dare to bother you with this?"
"No, he didn't, but I wouldn't have minded it if he had. He's family. But he's been comming Sergeant Klagg and asking your whereabouts since you're ignoring his calls. And it's getting on my nerves hearing the sergeant's comlink going off every five minutes in the last hour, so I came to know if you're having trouble with yours."
The queen gives a glance toward the door. "I'm sure the Sarge would appreciate not to be disturbed while on duty as well."
Zeb sees the shadow of Sergeant Drales Klagg by the door, unobtrusive in guarding the queen. He says nothing, but Zeb can imagine how annoyed the man is. Zeb surely would've been in his shoes.
“I apologize for my father’s behavior, Your Highness. The excitement of tonight’s event might’ve made him forget his place. I’ll talk to him.”
As if to challenge him, Zeb's comlink pings for the umpteenth time this evening. Zeb ignores it yet again. The queen arches an eyebrow.
"I'm busy. I have work to do," Zeb says defensively, waving his hand vaguely at the messy desk full of datapads. "As you well know, Your Majesty, the work of a Captain in the High Guard never ends. And if you excuse me, I'll return to it. I’ll talk with my father when I’m done."
Zeb sits back on his chair and grabs a datapad, trying to read the report in it, aware that he's been rude, and to the queen, no less! But he's counting on her tendency to relax protocols behind closed doors and the fact that they're indeed family. They're second cousins.
The rustle of her skirt is minimal, but enough to alert him she's moving. For a moment, he believes she's leaving. He should’ve known better. Zaleli goes around his carved desk and sits on the edge, making the worn-out wood creak as she settles down. The burn of her intense glare makes him look at her.
"Why are you hiding, Zeb? I know some of those dinner parties can be boring, but it's unlike you to avoid them."
Zeb closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh. He's not escaping this interrogation, it seems. He better get it over with.
"I do when they have the only purpose of parading me around. My father is determined to use me as an instrument of his political schemes."
The queen frowns, confused.
“He's seeking political alliances in the Galactic Senate through a mating,” he explains. “My mating. Since he's been mated for years, just like the rest of my siblings, I'm the offering."
Zaleli's expression shifts to one of understanding and sympathy. "You don't want a mate?"
"I do, just not right now. And I'm perfectly capable of finding my own when I'm ready for it. Don't need my father's help."
Thank you for the ask my dear @renee561 !!
