Senator Padmé Amidala wished she had a better plan than merely trying to camouflage herself in the farthest corner of the endlessly crowded Imperial ballroom, hoping that no one would notice her. The young senator acted as if she were nothing more than an average lady—and above all else, a loyal Imperial citizen—merely becoming one of the masses in attendance with no significant concern beyond deciding which cocktail to order or perhaps which Imperial bachelor to snag for a dance... Had she been anyone else in the galaxy, the simple scheme might have worked effortlessly, but the problem was that Padmé Amidala wasn't just anyone in attendance, and thus, her plan had failed before it even began. Given her rank, status, and history, she had never been one to blend into a crowd.
From the moment the beautiful young brunette entered the room, she could sense a number of eyes on her, indicating that she had not only failed to go unnoticed but also seemed to attract a great deal of unwanted attention. That's when a brave member of the blasphemous and heedless congregation stepped away from his group and approached her, invading her space and pausing just a few feet away with a strange look burning in his eyes. His gaze traveled her body, and he appeared to admire how her dress lay perfectly against her, hugging every curve in all the right places.
Padmé swallowed the lump forming in her throat beneath the stranger's lecherous stare, uncomfortable and humiliated. She looked away before her unease was mistaken for timid interest, and she would be forced to indulge the poor man's attempts at any sort of unwanted and unrequited acquaintance. She stepped away and took a small sip of her drink to calm her nerves. Maybe I should have worn something more modest, she thought as she gazed down at the snug dark blue fabric of her latest evening dress.
Although she was no stranger to attention, as a senator and former queen, this was neither the time nor the place to accept such recognition, and she should have considered this when choosing her outfit for the night. She looked down at the dress again, noticing another man watching her with that same intense gaze she had seen countless times throughout the evening in the eyes of every man she had caught glancing in her direction. She fought back a sigh. As far as scandal went, she could have worn something much more outrageous to the event. The dress, though different from her usual attire, wasn't that bad overall. It was still relatively conservative and fell well below her ankles. It even had long sleeves and a collar that framed the area of her chest around to her neck in the most elegant fashion. It was just a slightly tighter fit than usual—something she hadn't taken into account when choosing the dress, but which she now deeply regretted.
She couldn't help but think that if she had worn something a bit more modest, she could have at least used modesty to her advantage, giving herself a slightly better chance to blend into the background of the party instead of attracting such desperate attention to herself. It was only after becoming a senator three years prior that Padmé had started to embrace more of her sexuality at these kinds of events, at least in simple ways like her clothing. No longer confined to the traditional ways that came with being a Naboo queen, with the gaudy, heavy dresses and ten pounds of caked-on makeup.
She hadn't cared much about the time-honored and customary rules during her time in office. The laws established by her people had been followed for many moons by many remarkable women who had come before her, and Padmé had been more than happy to follow in their glorious footsteps, rarely considering the repercussions. In the beginning, those rules had seemed the easiest to follow. After all, she had been nothing more than a child when elected as queen of her home world. A child without a womanly figure; without breasts or a monthly cycle. At that time, she hadn't even had a true thought beyond her future in politics. So why would she care if they dressed her in garish garments? Why would she care if they concealed her beneath heavy attire and layers of cosmetics, which, at the very least, helped protect her identity more often than not.
No, the rules had been easy to follow for a time, almost too easy, until she reached a certain age. It was around sixteen when a change developed within her. That change even manifested in her outward appearance as well. During a time when a girl truly became a woman, at least in the physical sense. When her monthly cycle officially began, and her body experienced all sorts of changes, like the emergence of round, perky breasts or the sparse hair growth in more private areas, all of which had been appropriately managed by the most expert staff in various ways. Padmé felt the repercussions then, while her peers of the same age could embrace their changes privately with friends, while hers were properly hidden yet broadcasted for all her staff to know.
Padmé knew it was silly to feel the way she did, but that didn't make it any less true. She ignored her feelings until the next set of changes came later on. It marked another new chapter in her life when all her peers acquired suitors, while Padmé was left feeling somewhat disheveled. She had had proper suitors too, at least after a point—far more suitable than most—but only one or two were more familiar than the rest. In particular, there was one who came to mind. However, nothing ever went beyond that, unlike many of her peers. There had never been more than a luncheon, a walk, or some other proper event with a sort of entourage. Perhaps there had been a time or two when the smallest of kisses were stolen in the gardens or hushed whispers exchanged before a goodbye, but nothing ever progressed further than that. She had never had a true relationship, or dare she say it, a boyfriend.
It was hard to acquire such a thing in a position like hers. A senator now, and a queen then. A queen had much more important duties than to keep space in her mind for such matters, or even more so, an open spot in her calendar. A queen was always busy with some kind of ordeal and was always chaperoned. Plus, she had taken certain oaths—oaths she intended to keep. The vow of celibacy. The vow of abstinence. The vow of purity. To abstain from anything that would threaten her cherished maidenhood until marriage, and marriage to the most proper suitor, no less. Even now, long after her last term had ended, she was expected to adhere to such a vow. To remain a perfect virgin, maintaining the purity and grace of a Naboo queen until she was wed.