A delegate

Lady Leya stares at him, her breath caught in her throat, stunned and wounded. But she refuses to leave like this. He's just hurt, she tells herself, and would never truly turn her away.

"Anakin," she whispers, moving closer. "Look into my eyes. This isn't you—"

Suddenly, he lunges at her, his hand seizing her throat. Lady Leya gasps as her breath is squeezed from her lungs. She claws at his hand, struggling against his grip as her face reddens.

He's gone crazy! The man before her is unrecognizable. The familiar kindness and tenderness that once lit his eyes have been replaced by a terrifying thirst for blood and fury. He looks at her as if he no longer knows her, as if the darkness within him has swallowed him whole.

"Anakin…l-let…go," she pleads, feeling life slowly slip out of her.