“We’re roped together,” he pointed out, not unreasonably. She recognized as she hadn’t before the tension in his wiry, muscular arms, and the sweat that shone on his brow. “If you fall, I probably fall too.”
That snapped her out of it better than anything else could’ve done. Of course they had portable force fields projected only a few meters beneath their climbing position; a tumble wouldn’t be fatal, only embarrassing. But Leia had gained a sharper appreciation for not putting other people at risk. Newly focused, she dedicated herself to getting up the ridge, paying attention to nothing farther away than the stone against her gloves and boots.
Within another half hour, they’d reached the high plateau that marked their goal for the day. Sssamm, who could secrete an adhesive substance from between his scales to aid in climbing, made it up so long before the others that they found him stretched out, basking in the sun.
“We’re taking a hopper down from here, aren’t we?” Chassellon’s long face was shiny with sweat, and his usually well-tended curls frizzed in every direction. “Right? There’s got to be a hopper.”
“Weak, Stevis.” Chief Pangie had taken a seat by Sssamm and was already digging into her packed lunch. “Can’t act weak if you want to be strong.”
He folded his arms. “I’m rich. I don’t have to be strong.”
“You never know when you’re going to lose all your money,” Amilyn pointed out as she removed her helmet, then shook her purple hair free. Chassellon’s eyes got larger, as though she’d just described the greatest disaster that could ever unfold.
Leia took a seat at the far edge of the plateau, her booted feet just shy of the edge. Thanks to sweat and dust, she was filthy—a line of grime marked the length of her sleeve—but she liked the sense of exhilaration that came after exertion. See? she said to the parents in her head, who were much more pliant and easily surprised than the real ones. I’m not afraid of taking risks. I’m ready for hard work. Let me try.
Then she remembered her father’s voice breaking when he talked about the possibility of her being captured. How could she ever push them when they were already so afraid for her?
But how could she not stand against the Empire?
Leia unscrewed the canister of soup she’d brought for lunch and set out a bandana as a sort of placemat. Only then did she realize Kier was settling in not far away. When he noticed her looking at him, he said, “This is okay, right?”
“I don’t own the mountain.”
“That’s right. We’re not on Alderaan anymore.”
She breathed out, a little huff of exasperation. “I don’t own the mountains on Alderaan either.”
He didn’t look up from unwrapping his sandwich as he said, “No, they own you.”
“What are you getting at, Kier?”
“On Alderaan, you’re stuck being a princess all the time. On Coruscant, you’re a senator in training. But here, when we’re climbing—I think that’s when you get to be yourself.”
She’d never thought of it that way before. “Why are you so worried about whether or not I’m happy being a princess?”
That wasn’t exactly what he’d said, but he glided past it. “You’re the future ruler of my planet. So I’m kind of curious about what you’re really like.”
“…I guess that makes sense,” Leia admitted.
“That’s not your only reason,” sang Amilyn Holdo, who turned out to be sitting on a boulder that loomed over their ridge. She gave Kier a loopy smile. “But it’s a good excuse. Maybe go with that.”
Kier ducked his head, more amused than abashed. “Can’t ‘go with’ it if you’re blowing my cover.” With a shrug, Amilyn turned back to her lunch, which seemed to be some sort of multicolored pasta.
It wasn’t like Leia hadn’t considered the possibility before. Kier was difficult to get to know—but he was smart and insightful. Interested in the larger galaxy around them. Willing to pitch in and help. Unawed by her royal status, even if sometimes he pushed too hard to prove that.
And good-looking. Can’t forget good-looking. Not that Leia was in much danger of forgetting it. She’d gotten to like his whipcord thinness, his heavy brows, and his deep-set dark eyes…
Still, looks weren’t everything. She had to figure Kier Domadi out a little more before she could know what she wanted from him.
Gazing toward the horizon, she again took in the buzz of air traffic around Eriadu City—as much as could be seen around Aldera, even though Alderaan was a Core World heavily connected by trade to many planets in the galaxy, while Eriadu had been a little-remarked-upon way station in the Outer Rim until a generation or two ago. Nodding in that direction, she said, “I guess Grand Moff Tarkin looks after his own.”
“Obviously. It’s not like anybody would have a reason to refuel here, unless they were officially diverted.” Whatever embarrassment Kier might have felt earlier had already faded; his attention was on the distant metropolis. “Tarkin’s not the only Imperial higher-up who channeled money back home. That’s how the Empire operates—favoritism and graft.”
Leia agreed with every word but had never heard anyone speak so openly about it, not even her parents outside the privacy of the palace. “You should be careful,” she said in a low voice. “Not everyone appreciates honesty.” Her eyes flickered over to Chassellon Stevis, but he lay sprawled on the ground, exhausted to the point of semiconsciousness.
Kier only shrugged. “I don’t lie to people.”
Leia remembered how thoroughly her parents had lied to her, and how she was now lying to Kier, and to the entire galaxy, through her silence about their plans. Honesty and deception were more complex than they first appeared.
She only smiled and said, “If you don’t like lying, then what are you doing in politics?”
That made him laugh out loud, the first time she’d ever heard him laugh. The rarity of it made it feel more worth winning. “I’m moving on as quickly as possible. Hopefully someday I’ll teach at a university like my mom. She teaches political science, but I want to become a historian. The Apprentice Legislature seemed like a good place to synthesize the two. To build on what she taught me while I move in my own direction.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “We don’t all get tutors, you know.”
Kier wasn’t needling her, she finally realized. He was studying her with the avid curiosity he brought to every subject, every moment. “Sometimes tutors aren’t especially helpful.” She pointed her thumb back at Chief Pangie, who was no doubt grinning in glee at the thought of sending them back down the mountain again. “Especially when you have a dozen.”
“A dozen? Really?” He shook his head like someone surfacing from underwater, readjusting expectations. “Royalty don’t use educational droids?”
“Sure, for standard academic subjects. But I’ve also had tutors in pathfinding, diplomacy, piloting, navigation—you name it. I’ve even studied hand-to-hand combat, though I’m still advancing there.”