"Not at all, my dear." Elesse Vendar, Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, favors Anakin with a smile. Her clothes are muted in color but finely tailored, and her bearing and manner is impeccable. "I am glad you could make it. My sources backstage tell me that the technicians have at last brought the flame projectors up to the new code and the third act will not need to make do with holoprojections. Tonight's performance promises to be exciting." She takes Anakin's shoulder and starts gently steering her along. "But come, let us away to the box. A side entrance tonight, I do not feel like smiling for the press," with another grin for Anakin.

She grins back and happily lets herself be steered. "It'd be a bit wasted on them," she says, teasingly. "And live fire does sound fun."

To the box! Just them, as usual, until the end of the show - Anakin's been happy to handle getting Elesse any refreshments or the like ever since she was old enough to sit still through actually watching a play. She glances around at what's already been placed for them, reaching out in the Force to make sure there's no dangers half out of habit, then glances over at Elesse. "Do you want me to get you something, ma'am?"

"Just a drink, my dear." She flicks a hand in the direction of the minibar.

She nods. "Alright." She heads over, preparing drinks for both Elesse and herself with a light hum, before heading back to sit with Elesse. 

She takes her drink and settles back, one arm across the back of Anakin's chair.

"To your continued good health," she toasts to Anakin. "And many happy returns."

She raises her glass back, grinning and ducking her head and leaning only a little into Elesse. "Thank you, Elesse," she says, softly, shyly. Then: "To your good health, and success in all you do."

"Naturally." She takes a sip.

"Now, this piece being performed tonight is considered one of Orvied's more accessible works, but I am, as always, of the opinion the full context ought to be considered. Have you covered Jel Orvied in your cultural studies?"

She takes a somewhat longer sip, humming. "Only in passing."

"Then if you will indulge me," smile, "I would be pleased to provide a more focused overview."

"I think my brain has enough room for another lesson today."

"Excellent."

Then they can spend the rest of the time before the show starts discussing the life and times of playwright and composer Jel Orvied, his variety of works, and the reconstructed Chellish legendarium this particular one derives from (with a brief digression into the historiography thereof).

Anakin has fun with it, only reluctantly wrapping the conversation up as the show starts. She's fascinated by old tales in general - mythologies, legends - and she finds artists' lives interesting. 

She meters out her drink enough that she only has to get a second one - checking if Elesse also wants a refill - as they're close to show start, though she's embarrassingly sensitive to alcohol so Anakin probably shouldn't have a third...

Elesse has heard that some Jedi have a trick for filtering poisons out of their bloodstream. Perhaps Anakin could use a similar technique to keep her intoxication to a manageable level.

Giggle. "I'll try it, ma'am. Might be best to before drinking more..."

"That seems likely," she laughs.

Shiver.

Then she closes her eyes a bit, humming - she's warm and content and glowing, which usually isn't how she meditates... But it seems to be helping the kind of focus she needs to actually turn her mind to her body without it skittering away, and she clears a bit of the toxin out as the lights go down.

Not too much. She does really like the soft buzz alcohol gives her before she goes all silly with it.

Anakin opens her eyes and smiles at Elesse just before the curtains open. "Think I'm good," she murmurs.

"Well done, dear."

She ducks her head and blushes, then makes herself go quiet as the opening monologue begins, instead simply leaning happily into Elesse.

The play starts somewhat slowly, introducing character and setting details with lots of subtle political maneuvering. It picks up by the end of the second act as the various plots being crashing into each other and the overarching theme is revealed.

At the intermission, hovering servitors bring a dinner into the box for Elesse and Anakin to eat. Chellish cuisine, to fit the theme of the evening.

It's delicious. (And Anakin takes care of actually serving the food.)

She's been loving the play, which she chatters about excitedly as they eat, picking apart characterization, various secrets and mysteries, what she thinks is going on here or there, who she thinks knows what...

Elesse encourages her theorizing while coyly declining to confirm or deny any specifics.

After they've eaten, another servitor brings in a tray bearing a cake covered in blood-red icing. "Happy birthday, Anakin," Elesse says.

She beams.

"Thank you!" she says, eyeing the cake with undisguised interest. "It looks delicious, Elesse - thank you for remembering..." Small giggle - "I'd forgotten that was today..."

"Lucky for you that I remembered, then. Would you like to cut it?"

"Yes, ma'am." Knife, knife, where's the knife...

Over to the side of the tray, next to the plates. Elesse takes it and hands it to Anakin. "Here you are, dear."