“I don’t believe it,” she whispered.
“I know,” 2V said, leaning back to admire her work. “You’re almost beautiful!”
We have got to disconnect that droid’s honesty routine, Leia thought.
Invigorated and curious, she hurried down to the reception. While official functions demanded larger, grander rooms, these more informal gatherings usually began on the western terrace. Leia walked through the wide doors to see a handful of guests already chatting to one another with glasses of teal-blue Toniray in their hands. Kitonak musicians in the corner played a soft melody, and in the distance, the city lights of Aldera glittered brightly against the first darkening of sunset. Her mother was deep in conversation with Senator Pamlo and Cinderon Malpe of Derella; her father had yet to appear, which was odd. Or maybe he was having a private conversation in the library with another guest, about Crait or Saw Gerrera or any of the other things Leia wasn’t supposed to know about. Maybe she’d have the chance to soak up a little information tonight.
“Princess Leia.” Mon Mothma, the senior senator from Chandrila, came up to her, smiling pleasantly. She wore the usual white robes of her planet, complete with her silver chain of office. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You too, Senator Mothma.”
“Please. Call me Mon. You’re very nearly a grown woman, now.” When most adults said things like that, they came across as skin-crawlingly superior. From Mon Mothma, the sentiment sounded sincere. “Soon to be invested as heir to the throne.”
“If I fulfill my challenges.” Leia carefully used no term of address at all. As much as she liked being asked to call this powerful woman by her first name, she couldn’t bring herself to do it yet. “I’m not sure how well that’s going.”
“Which one has turned out to be most difficult?” Mon Mothma asked.
“The challenge of the mind, I guess.” Pathfinding was tough, but she’d managed well enough so far; her mercy missions had proved to be overly complicated, but for reasons Leia didn’t think were her fault. “After interning for my father in the Imperial Senate, I thought the Apprentice Legislature would be easy. Instead it’s turned out to be…let’s say, slippery.”
Mon Mothma frowned and nodded, the same way she would if discussing topics with adult senators. “Go on?”
Leia hadn’t shared this with her parents yet. After the last few blow-ups they’d had, she hadn’t wanted to show them another of her mistakes. She wasn’t used to not confiding in them. So it was a relief to tell the story of what had happened with Arreyel.
Even better was the way Mon Mothma responded. “Try not to be discouraged,” she told Leia. “Officials with decades of experience have fallen into similar traps. Palpatine knows how to bait his hooks.”
The fact that this was being said so openly was proof that Leia’s theory about the banquets was right; only in a group of assured allies would anyone be so openly critical of the Emperor. “You think Palpatine himself was behind it?”
“Probably not. But he’s taught his moffs and admirals to follow his example. I’ve been tripped up by his machinations before. It’s been a while since the last time he caught me, but I never let down my guard. That’s the most any of us can do.”
Leia felt a surge of hope. Mon Mothma, at least, could speak to her as an adult, and trusted her with her real opinions about the Imperial hierarchy. If one of their allies came to believe Leia could play a meaningful role in their efforts against the Emperor, maybe that would convince her parents.
“Forgive me, everyone,” said Bail Organa as he strode out onto the terrace. Instantly the musicians played more softly to allow the viceroy to greet his guests. “Am I the last to arrive?”
“I think that’s me,” said Kier.
Leia blinked in surprise. Kier Domadi—who so far as she knew had never met her mother and only encountered her father at the apartments a couple of times, and briefly—had just walked through the wide doors. Although he must’ve felt out of place in the palace, he didn’t look it; not only did he wear a fashionable pale-gray jacket and dark trousers, but he held himself well and spoke with assurance.
“Mr. Domadi.” Breha swept to Kier’s side, holding out her arm in a way that made it clear he was to offer his. When he did, she led him toward Leia. “Thank you so much for accepting our invitation, particularly on such short notice.”
“It’s an honor to be asked, Your Majesty.” The only sign that Kier wasn’t totally at ease was the way his dark eyes kept glancing down at his queen’s hand on his forearm.
“Hi, Kier.” Leia would’ve felt like her smile gave away too much, if it weren’t for the fact that his presence made it obvious her parents already knew as much as she did. “Mom, what’s this about?”
Breha shrugged, then readjusted the folds of her silvery shawl. “I know it’s lonely for you sometimes while we’re having our banquets. Tonight, I thought you might enjoy some company. We’ve ordered a wonderful supper for you both; the droids will set up a table for you right here.”
Leia was torn. On the one hand, dining all alone with Kier, in front of this spectacular view—she’d had daydreams very close to this. But she’d begun forming other plans for the night, ones that felt even more urgent.
Behind her, she heard her father greeting Mon Mothma. “Was Senator Lenz not able to make it?”
“Winmey sends his regrets,” Mon Mothma said. “But of course I’ll meet with him upon my return.”
To talk to him about a dinner party? I doubt it.
It occurred to Leia that her mother might not have invited Kier only as a kindness to her daughter. She might’ve intended to distract Leia from what was really going on.
If so, this was the first time Leia had gotten one step ahead of the queen.
When the banquet began, and the other guests departed along with the musicians, Leia and Kier were left all alone except for the servitor droids who swiftly brought their dinner. Although Leia took her seat and ate and drank at the appropriate moments, her mind raced toward the banquet room and what might be happening there.
It was a measure of her curiosity that even Kier Domadi couldn’t hold her attention completely.
“So you never get to attend the banquets?” he said, carefully sipping the nectar in his dark red glass. “Even though you’re a princess?”
“Princesses don’t get everything, you know.”
Leia intended it only as a joke, and was surprised when he ducked his head as if in apology. “I know that. I realize—when we met, I might’ve come across—”
“Kier. It’s okay. I am ridiculously privileged. But my family and I try to use our privileges to benefit others even more than ourselves.” That was a rote answer, the kind of diplomatic response her father might give. Never before had that reply seemed inadequate to her. It was such a thin sliver of the truth.