“I was amazed, I guess, though that’s not how I’d word it….”
“Yes, it’s dirty, but this is by far the most beautiful gown you’ve ever worn!” 2V wheeled up to her, reaching out skinny metallic fingers to touch one of the pale pink veils on the cape. “Of course anyone who knows anything about fashion knows that Naboo is the place for formalwear, but I hardly thought you’d pick up so much so quickly!”
Her grooming droid’s single-minded dedication to hairstyles and clothing usually amused Leia. Today, it took all her self-control not to snap at 2V. It’s her programming. She didn’t get to choose her programming. “Sorry, TooVee. I borrowed this from Queen Dalné. We need to have the gown cleaned and returned to her.”
2V’s joints went slack in disappointment. “Oh. Oh well. At least we have a wonderful example to draw from, don’t you think?”
“Sure, fine. Where are my parents?”
“The queen and her viceroy are in the library, but really you should let me tidy you up before you present yourself to them. Though maybe it’s worth letting them see the dress! Then they might approve a shopping expedition back to Naboo.”
“Let’s not ask them about that yet.” By which she meant, not ever. Leia felt as though she’d prefer never to be near the Naboo system again.
She managed to send her droid off to lay out comfortable nightclothes and fold down the coverlets, though she felt certain she wouldn’t be going to bed for hours yet. Evening had fallen, and exhaustion made every muscle of Leia’s body ache—but it was impossible for her to rest until she had talked with her parents.
Leia approached the library more slowly as she saw that one of the tall bronze doors remained open, and heard her parents talking to each other in pitched tones that betrayed their terror, or anger, or both.
“—a stand, immediately,” said her father, who paced back and forth along the wooden floor. “Otherwise, soon there will be no controlling the partisans, and no telling how far they might go.”
Her mother spoke in the tone that Leia recognized as the one for delivering harsh news. “Saw’s judgment is faulty, but it’s time to ask ourselves how far—Leia!”
They both wheeled around to see her as she stepped through the door. Firelight flickered through the great hall of the library, very nearly the only light in the room, but Leia could tell how stricken her mother looked. Her father, however, looked…angry.
Furious.
Her mother spoke first. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not injured much,” Leia answered. That wasn’t the same as yes, and both her parents would know it.
Breha came toward her daughter, hand outstretched, the hem of her deep red robe whispering as it brushed along the floor. Yet she stopped a few paces short of Leia, her expression unreadable. When she spoke again, her words were low and even, the way they’d been when Leia had fallen as a child and scraped her knee. “Sweetheart, is there a particular reason you chose to go to the Naboo system? Were you interested in that world because of something you haven’t wanted to share? You can tell us.”
After everything that had happened, how was that her mother’s first question? “You two said I couldn’t go to a planet that would be politically sensitive. I figured the Emperor’s homeworld was about as far from that as I could get, especially since I was only on one of the moons. It’s not like I knew someone was going to assassinate a moff.” When her mother flinched, Leia feared she had her answer. “Did you?”
“What?” Bail snapped.
Leia squared her shoulders. “Did you know what was going to happen to Moff Panaka?”
Breha’s hand covered her mouth, and for once the queen of Alderaan had no words. It was Bail—the more even-tempered of the two, usually—who retorted, “You think we’d stoop to assassination? Leia, what’s gotten into you?”
“How am I supposed to know differently? You won’t tell me what you’re up to, which means I have to guess.”
For one of the only times Leia could remember, Bail raised his voice to her. “So you guessed we’d become murderers?”
“You’re planning on attacking the Empire!” she shouted back. “Sooner or later, that means killing people!”
“Exactly.” Breha said it calmly, looking only at her husband. Jolted, Leia took a step backward; if her mother noticed, she showed no sign.
Bail shook his head. “I can’t talk about this any longer right now. I have to—to rest, to think.”
“That would be best.” Breha brushed her hand along his shoulder, and it was as if she’d infused him with a new source of calm.
Still, he walked toward the door, pausing by Leia’s side only long enough to say, “We’re relieved to know you weren’t hurt. We love you.”
“I love you too.” It came out in a small voice. Leia felt as though there were another presence in the room with them—the unknown, or maybe the future. Something bigger and darker than any of them.
Once her father had left, Leia turned back to her mother, who said, “Let’s walk in the gardens.”
“We have to talk about this.”
“The gardens are as good a place to talk as any. Besides, I want to give your father some privacy.”
The palace offered more than enough privacy for a hundred people, but Leia understood what her mother meant. Her parents needed to feel the separation between each other for a short while.
The palace gardens, like the palace itself, had been the work of centuries. Richly designed beds of flowers and ferns painted patterns through the large central courtyard. Sculptures in pure white marble or shining metal nestled within arrangements of ivy meant to serve as frames. Leia found the gardens most beautiful in wintertime, when snowfall made the intricate designs look like a blanket of lace. Yet late spring could be lovely too, as it was now; the night-blooming candlewick flowers had opened to reveal their luminescent petals in pale orange and gold.
When she was a small child, Leia had believed that the soft glow within her mother’s chest was a bouquet of candlewicks in her heart. By now she understood the working of her mother’s pulmonodes and had met many other people with mechanized organ replacements—but the affection she felt for candlewick flowers had never faded. To her, they would always suggest magic, and love.
Breha took a seat on one of the polished stone benches. Although Leia knew she could sit too, she didn’t. She wanted to remain on her feet a while longer. Her mother began, “The report we received from Lieutenant Batten indicated that you met personally with Governor Panaka. Is that true?”
“Yes. I’m probably the last person he ever spoke to.”
“Tell me what passed between you.”