A few minutes pass before Padmé finally leaves her spot by the lake, folding up the blanket and carrying it and the datapad inside. The kitchen feels strangely empty as she enters it, the usually warm space lacking the comforting scents of freshly baked bread that would normally be filling the air by this point after a difficult night. she hadn't given in to the urge before and now it seems strange, everything ill-timed and no longer fitting as it should. But with a deep sigh, she does her best to shake off those feelings and searches out something to make them for breakfast.

Only she doesn't get very far. With all the ingredients for omelets laid out on the counter, a small ping alerts her to a new message having just arrived on the datapad -- she hadn't logged out of her account as she'd intended to do for the duration of their time here. Work tends to distract her from other things, and it does so now. When Obi-Wan arrives in the kitchen, she is wholly absorbed in reading the text on the screen, one hand pressed to her lips as frustration and distress color her thoughts.