It was the third plié that did it.

"You have got to be kidding me," Corissa said.

All around her, silence fell and motion ceased. Linnea and Siert, the soloists currently rehearsing in the center of the spacious dance studio, paused mid-position, haloed by a diffuse cloud of dust motes glinting like infinitesimal comets within the beams of early afternoon sunlight that slanted through the large windows. Linnea glanced sideways at the young dark-haired man leaning against the far wall, then slowly rose out of the plié to stand normally, Siert's hands still on her waist.

Even from across the room, Corissa could see the dark-haired man's chest rise as he sighed, his eyes still on Linnea and Siert instead of turning to face her, a familiar air of strained patience hanging around him. "You have a comment, Mistress Jade?"

"Yes, I have a comment," Corissa replied, undaunted. "Three pliés leading into the lift? Three grand pliés? If they were demi, maybe—"

He turned sharply toward her, but his tone was as determinedly courteous as ever despite the irritation in his eyes. "The pliés are the culmination of an artistic progression—"

"It culminates in a lift, which when preceded by three grand pliés looks like she's trying to launch herself into orbit," Corissa informed him.

There was a soft intake of air from Sanvi, sitting beside her, but Corissa ignored it. Less easy to ignore were the young man's next words as he pushed himself off the wall and headed toward the door, as composed as always. "Mistress Jade, if I could see you alone for a moment."

Corissa rose from her cross-legged position on the floor and followed him, chin held high. It wasn't like she was wrong, after all.

They exited the studio and crossed the hall to his office, where he closed the door behind her and gestured at a chair before leaning against the edge of his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose with his right thumb and forefinger. "Mistress Jade—"

"You know I'm right."

He sighed again, letting his head fall into his hand and taking a long, slow breath. If he was counting to ten in his head, she might kick him, new artistic director or not.

"Mistress Jade," he began again, the air of strained patience back in full force. "I have a great appreciation for your technical prowess and artistry. That's why you were promoted to principal dancer, and I have no doubt that you will shine in that role. May I remind you, however, that choreography does not fall under your assigned duties."

Corissa crossed her arms and huffed a quiet breath. "Yes, Master Vasseron."

He lifted his head to pin her with a glare. His eyes, a darker brown than her own, would have been attractive on someone less pretentious, she thought. "May I also remind you that if you have an objection in the future to any of my choices, the proper way to handle it would be to discuss it with me in private rather than arguing with me in front of the entire company."

"Yes, Master Vasseron," Corissa said again, just barely managing to refrain from rolling her eyes. Not that he was wrong either; she knew that even if she didn't want to admit it. Well, he wasn't wrong that she should have held her tongue until a more propitious moment. Mom had always said that she needed better impulse control. The pliés, on the other hand… "May I suggest in my turn that a rond de jambe would be a better way to lead into that lift while maintaining the artistic progression of the choreography?"

Master Vasseron's eyes fell closed. "I'll take that under advisement, thank you. Dismissed, Mistress Jade."

Corissa dropped an only slightly sarcastic curtsy and left the office, returning to her place in the studio and reseating herself beside Sanvi, who elbowed her. Corissa elbowed her back, then straightened as Master Vasseron reappeared and clapped his hands. Once all eyes were on him, he announced, "Let's take a break, everyone. Back here in fifteen."

He left again, presumably for his office, and everyone else stood, the atmosphere slightly subdued. Corissa knew perfectly well that that was her fault, and was almost as irritated with herself as she was with Master Vasseron. She didn't have any problems at all arguing with the artistic director, but of course she shouldn't have said it in front of the whole company. Or at least she should have phrased it a little more tactfully. But those pliés…

Sanvi caught her arm as Corissa turned toward the door. "Corissa," she hissed. "You can't criticize the choreography like that!"

"I think I just did," Corissa returned. Fine, she'd hold her tongue more in the future—at least in public—but she'd be damned if she was going to back down any further than she already had.

"Do you want to be demoted to soloist?" Sanvi persisted. "You're a brand new principal—you haven't even performed yet! He could knock you down to the corps and never look back if he wanted."

"Well, that would be his loss, wouldn't it?" Corissa took Sanvi's arm and tugged her toward the hallway. "Come on, let's get some tea. Do you think anyone's smuggled in whiskey or something lately? I could use the fortification if the rest of the movement looks like this."

"Corissa…"

"Let me get this straight," Mara said, sitting back in her chair, her fingers laced around the steaming mug she held. "You argued with the artistic director—"

"Mara," Corissa interrupted. "Just imagine it. Three grand pliés going right into a lift—"

"—in front of the whole company," Mara continued, unimpressed. "During rehearsal."

"Grand pliés! Three of them!"

"And not a director you'd worked with for years and been on those sorts of terms with," Mara pointed out. "A director who's new to the company, who's still establishing his artistic vision. Not to mention authority. And you didn't just question him in front of everyone, you insulted his choreography. After he promoted you. To principal, Corissa."

Corissa crossed her arms and slumped in her own chair, glowering at her sister's image on the holo. "You don't have to put it that way."

"Yes, I do," Mara said, taking a sip of her drink. "Because that was an immensely rude thing to do. Not to mention stupid. The artistic director always has the final say, Corissa. Always. Every dancer knows that. If he tells you to do ten grand pliés before a lift, you do the best ten grand pliés you have in you."

Corissa looked off to the side, avoiding Mara's eyes. She was right, of course. It hadn't taken long at all for the guilt to set in—and the worry, despite her earlier words to Sanvi. Master Vasseron had taken a chance on her, and she'd repaid him with impertinence. He'd be well within his rights to bump her back down to soloist, and then what? She'd lose out on her dream position within a prominent company before she even got started. It would be a black mark on her record with any other artistic directors or companies in the future. And though she hated to admit to such a consideration where her art was concerned, it would be a pay cut, too, and that couldn't be entirely overlooked. The extra credits she made as principal were a really nice bonus.

"He changed the pliés, though," she muttered.

"Did he, now."

There was something in Mara's voice that made Corissa look back at her, but her sister's expression was as smooth as her voice, with only a hint of amusement showing through. Corissa frowned at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Mara said, the corner of her mouth twitching just a little. "What did he change it to?"

"A grand battement, followed by a single demi plié."

Mara considered. "That does maintain the sweeping artistic feel he was probably going for, with a bit more subtlety."

Corissa shrugged. "I suggested a rond de jambe."

"Of course you did."

A glimmer of tousled pale red hair appeared at the bottom of the holo field, preempting Corissa's retort. "Mommy?"

Mara set her mug on the table before her and leaned over to scoop her small daughter into her lap. "Look, Aunt Corissa is calling."

"Nakari!" Corissa perked up, choreography forgotten. Well, almost forgotten. "How's my girl?"

"Aun' C'rissa!" Nakari beamed at her. "Aun' C'rissa, when are you coming home?"

"I'll visit soon, baby," Corissa assured her. "What are you doing today?"

"Helping Grandpa," Nakari said, her attention caught by the mug in front of her. She reached for it, but Mara got there first, lifting the mug and holding it closer so that Nakari could inspect it.

"We're going over to Mom and Dad's in a little bit," Mara explained. "Dad has some gardening planned and Nakari is going to help."

"You're such a good helper," Corissa told her, and was rewarded with another grin before Nakari turned her full attention to the mug, almost sticking her nose right in it. "Is that caf?" Corissa turned to Mara accusingly. "Are you giving that child caf? Treat my niece better, you degenerate."

"She hates caf," Mara said calmly, holding the mug still. "She just has to smell it to be sure it's not hot chocolate. Luke's influence."

Sure enough, Nakari made a face of dramatic disgust, then squirmed. "Mommy, yuck. Down now."

Mara set the mug back on the table and hugged Nakari. "Say goodbye to Aunt Corissa first."

"'Bye, Aun' C'rissa," Nakari said distractedly.

"'Bye, sweetie," Corissa said, waving. "Have fun helping Grandpa!"

"Go find Daddy," Mara told her daughter, kissing the top of her head before setting her back on the floor. "Ask him if he's ready to go to Grandma and Grandpa's."

"'Kay," Nakari said, offscreen now, and small footsteps retreated.

"Actually," Corissa added, "should you be drinking caf right now, either?"

Mara sighed and took another sip. "May the Force be with this poor artistic director of yours. He's going to need it."

Corissa pinned her with another glare. "Don't deflect."

"This is the first caf I've had all week," Mara told her, rolling her eyes. "And the mug is only half full. I swear, someday when you're pregnant, I'm going to pester you just as much as you do me."

"Hmph." Corissa checked her chrono. "I have to get going. Practice in an hour. I love you."

"Love you too." Mara smiled over the edge of her mug. "Give Master Vasseron my sympathies."

"Ha ha, very funny." Corissa rolled her own eyes and disconnected, then rose from her chair. Time to face the music. So to speak.

Corissa could hear the sound of conversation in the studio, but the hallway was empty. Thank the Force for small mercies. She tapped at the office door and waited for Master Vasseron's "come," before opening it to step inside.

"Yes?" he asked before looking up, all his attention on the datapad before him, and she thought again as she assessed him that it was really quite unfair that someone so vexing should be quite so attractive. Then he did look up. "Ah."

"Master Vasseron," Corissa said determinedly. "I just…I just wanted to apologize for my rudeness the other day." He leaned back in his chair rather expectantly, and she had to grit her teeth before continuing. "My comments were out of line. The choreography is yours to direct."

"Yes," he said rather dryly, which did nothing to alleviate her irritation. "It was in the job description when I applied."

Despite her guilty conscience, that was enough for Corissa to open her mouth to deliver yet another ill-advised remark, but he was quicker on the draw.

"Fortunately," Master Vasseron continued, "I had a number of discussions with the former artistic director before she retired." He absently twirled the stylus he was holding as he looked her over. "She spoke very highly of you. Said that she'd seen few dancers in her time with your talent and focus, and that you would soon have the experience and poise necessary to be a principal. From what I've seen, she was entirely correct. Save perhaps for the—shall we say, more political aspects of the job."

Corissa opened her mouth again, then clamped it shut.

"There you go," Master Vasseron said encouragingly, and this time she actually took a breath to fuel the indignant remark that was on the tip of her tongue. Yet again, he was faster.

"Mistress Jade," he said, rising to come around to the front of the desk, crossing his arms and leaning against it, those brown eyes evaluating her. "I trust that I need hardly explain that many, if not most, ballet directors are older and more experienced than I am. That was an argument that some on the board of directors made against hiring me, as I understand it. Some pointed out that I was, shall we say, verdant. To be fair, they're not entirely wrong. While I have a number of professional plaudits to my name, this is only my second posting as a director. They took a chance on me. As I took one on you."

This time Corissa wasn't even tempted to argue, too intent on his words. She hadn't considered the fact that he was indeed young to hold this position; it had been obvious from the first that he was artistically qualified and that had been all that mattered to her. But if any of the board had tried to block his hiring…

"You see the issue," he said conversationally. "I have a lot riding on this upcoming season, professionally speaking. I have a great deal of faith in both my abilities and those of our company, but to make the best use of all of these talents, I do need the respect of my dancers. Which is somewhat undermined when one of the principals publicly argues with me. Even if the choreography in question did look like an attempt at an orbital launch."

Corissa felt the heat rising in her cheeks. "Master Vasseron, I—I am sorry. I didn't think of that."

He tilted his head. "Believe it or not, Mistress Jade, I have a high regard for your artistic opinions. I've seen more than enough of your talent to take any thoughts you may have into consideration. But if you could refrain from arguing with me publicly, that would be appreciated."

"I will, Master Vasseron," Corissa replied—but there was something in those dark eyes that made her add, "in public, anyway."

He grinned at her rather than smiled, the first time Corissa could recall seeing such a thing from him. "In that case, you'd better call me Julian. In private, anyway."

Force help her, she couldn't help but return the grin. "Corissa. In private."

He inclined his head, still grinning. "I look forward to it. Which is just as well, since I suspect that I could hardly avoid it. But for now," he glanced at his chrono, "perhaps you should join the others. I'll be along in a moment."

"As you say, Julian," Corissa replied lightly, and turned back toward the door, pleased with him, pleased with herself, pleased with life.

Being pleased with him, though, did not for a moment mean that Corissa was never going to mention needed improvements, and certainly not when he'd all but invited her observations.

"A brisé would better accentuate Sanvi's talents," she argued, as they sat within his office before practice one day. "I've danced with her for over a year. I know her strengths."

"And yet," Julian pointed out, making a note of something on the datapad before him, "you were not hired to oversee these things. You can always give up dance and study choreography if you want a director position yourself."

"I have studied choreography," Corissa informed him acidly. "And you said you were looking forward to hearing my thoughts."

He looked up from the datapad to take a sip of his caf. "I did not say that I would act on all of them, or indeed, any of them. I said I'd take them into consideration."

Corissa huffed. "You are the most exasperating—"

"Good afternoon, Master Vasseron," Isakoa called through the open office door as he walked past. There was the tiniest of hesitations, then, "Hi, Corissa."

"Hi," Corissa called back, as Julian also returned the greeting. They'd gotten some odd looks since these afternoon discussions became a semi-regular thing. The company was probably gossiping about them, she knew, even though the office door was always open and she and Julian always maintained the expected level of propriety. Anyway, it wasn't like they were doing anything besides talking about dance. And even if they had been doing something, which they weren't, Corissa happened to know that there were several other surreptitious couples in the company. Just because such a thing was officially frowned on didn't mean that it didn't happen, and everyone knew that.

Except that it was most certainly not happening with her and Julian. They just both wanted the best for the company and their upcoming season, that's all. And sometimes they had different ideas about how to accomplish that. It was perfectly normal to have those discussions. And she didn't argue with him in public anymore, which was good for them all. So she really didn't see what any of them had to complain about.

"I believe you were in the process of insulting me," Julian said, turning back to his datapad.

Corissa rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"All dancers are dramatic," Julian replied, doing something else to the file on his datapad, then turning it off and putting it in a desk drawer. "It comes with the territory."

"Why did you retire from dance?" Corissa asked. She'd been curious about that ever since he'd pointed out that he was young to be an artistic director. After all, now that she was thinking about it, he was probably only in his early thirties, which was still well within the usual performing ages.

"I don't consider it retirement," he told her, turning his attention to whatever remained of his caf. "I'm involved with the entire company's dancing every day."

"Pfft," Corissa replied, sipping her own tea. "You know what I mean. You're not performing."

"I like choreography," he said, setting his mug down. It sounded hollow and empty as it made contact with the desk. That made sense. It was very nearly time for rehearsal, after all. Corissa ignored the brief pang of disappointment that thought kindled. "I like selecting productions and putting my own mark on them. I'll be closely involved with dance for the rest of my life; either I'll direct, or I'll teach, or I'll start a troupe of my own, maybe."

Corissa brightened. "Those are all things I plan to do eventually, too."

"Ah," Julian said, smiling at her. "And I'm sure you'll excel at them all."

"You're teasing me," Corissa accused, tilting her head.

Julian rose from his chair, still smiling. "Not at all. If there's one thing you make clear every day, it's that you'll excel at whatever you attempt. The universe itself wouldn't dare gainsay you. But for now, the others are waiting. Perhaps you should go ahead. I'll be right there."

"Perhaps I should," Corissa replied archly, and with a masterful effort, she even managed to wipe the smile from her own face before she entered the studio.

Within a couple of weeks, the afternoon discussions had expanded into dinner dates.

"You really should order tea," Corissa said as she lifted the menu during their third dinner together. "The tea here is always good. I know you prefer caf, but the last time I had it here it was positively charred."

"If they're going to char caf, why would the tea be good?" Julian asked, glancing up from his menu.

Corissa shrugged. "I don't know. I just follow my brother and sister's directions for making those things. If there's some sort of nuance to either process, I don't know it."

It was far too obvious that Julian was trying hard not to smile, and she eyed him suspiciously over the edge of her menu. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, turning nonchalantly back to his own menu. "It's just—I understand being single-minded in pursuit of one's art, but you take it to a whole other level. When it comes to dance, you learn every detail, every reason behind everything, every scrap of history and artistry and technique, but everything else just merits a shrug from you."

"Not everything else," Corissa said, biting back her own smile and noticing with a flush of pleasure how his eyes shifted instantly back toward her. "But you know how dance is. If you're not all in, you don't get very far."

"True," Julian replied after a moment's pause. "And if it's what calls to you, there's really no fighting it. I know that my own parents rather hoped it was more of a phase than it turned out to be. I'm a terrible disappointment to them."

"You're not," Corissa said with instant indignation. "Look at all you've accomplished. What's disappointing about that?"

He smiled openly now, and she very much liked the sight. "Well," he replied, "they're both professors. Mathematics and literature. So given a choice in the matter, they would have preferred that I go into teaching something bookish, too." The smile became the grin that was now so familiar to her. "I didn't give them a choice."

Corissa laughed. "And a good thing, too. I really liked our last artistic director, but you're more innovative. I like that."

There was something in his eyes now that almost—almost—made her want to glance away, but she found that she couldn't, her gaze locked with his. "The compliment is appreciated," Julian answered, that intense something still very much there. "Especially from someone with unfailingly strong opinions."

"And unfailingly good judgment," Corissa added, tilting her head playfully while maintaining eye contact.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely," she replied, and decided to throw caution to the wind. She reached across the table to take his hand, and was delighted by how quickly and firmly his fingers curled around hers.

"Good to know," he murmured, smiling again.

Corissa beamed at him, and hardly let go of his hand for the rest of the evening.

"Not only are there innumerable physical benefits to dance," Julian was saying very earnestly, "but it's also of immense benefit to mental and emotional health, helping to build confidence as well as cognitive and communication skills. That's why I feel that creating this community outreach program is so important…"

Corissa, sitting toward the back of the theater's small press room, watched as he spoke of his goals and tried to keep her pride from being too terribly obvious. Only a few months into his tenure as director and he'd already made the position and company his own, and had all sorts of plans to make ballet even more accessible to the community at large. Next week would see the performing season open, and their premiere production was already almost entirely sold out. Her family would come to see her dance as a principal for the first time, and she and Julian spent nearly all their free time together. Both personally and professionally, the future seemed brighter than ever.

The muttering of the reporter sitting next to her jolted her out of these pleasant musings.

"What did you say?" she hissed under her breath, turning to him.

"I said, 'smarmy bastard,'" he muttered back, still scribbling notes on his datapad. He glanced up at her. "Do you think he actually believes all this bantha poodoo he's spouting?"

The rage was like a pillar of fire suddenly kindled within her. Once, when she was around seven, one of her classmates had said something similarly insulting about Nico while they were out on the playground. Corissa had jumped the boy without hesitation, knocking him to the ground and pummeling him relentlessly until a teacher had pulled her away, still swinging. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to repeat that performance.

But she was an adult now, and it would reflect badly on her, and on the company, and most importantly of all, on Julian. So she contented herself with leaning in close and whispering viciously, "You listen to me, you slimy little punk. He's a visionary, and he's going to revolutionize this company, and probably ballet as an art form, and he's an asset to this community, more so than you are. If you can't see the importance of the arts, maybe you shouldn't even be here."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Julian glance over, then turn back to his interview. She wished momentarily that they had the sort of Force bond that Luke and Mara did, to silently assure him that everything was fine. Meanwhile the reporter drew back, staring at her, then leaned in again, a little cautiously despite the outrage in his eyes. "Who exactly do you think you are?"

Corissa smiled with all the edged sweetness she could muster. Which was a lot. "I'm someone who'll lodge a complaint with your editor and make sure that you never work this beat again if you so much as open your mouth for the rest of this conference, or make even one veiled implication in your report that Julian Vasseron is anything but a wildly successful and talented artistic director doing his best for all of Chelruna City, and whose guidance will lead this company to new heights. Don't think I won't."

The reporter stared for another long moment, then turned away. He spent the rest of the press conference sitting stiffly, never taking his eyes off his datapad. Corissa spent the rest of the press conference dividing her attention between watching him and smiling reassuringly at Julian whenever he glanced over.

Eventually the press conference ended and the small gaggle of reporters began to head out. Corissa helped the sanitation staff tidy the room while Julian finished chatting with the handful who lingered—at least there were some journalists who appreciated artistic endeavors, she thought with grim satisfaction—then waved good-bye to the staff who followed the last of the reporters out and turned to greet Julian.

"And what exactly was all of that?" he asked as he came to her side.

"Amba's daughter got first place in her grade's astrography competition," Corissa replied, nearly as pleased over that bit of news as she was over the stories from home about Nakari and Rylan's milestones. Amba had been head of the theater's sanitation department for over a decade, and had taken pains to be kind to Corissa when she had first joined the company a couple of years ago and was terribly homesick, helping her to settle in and feel comfortable. They'd been good friends ever since, and Corissa knew Amba's family well by now.

"That is good news," Julian agreed. "Though I meant your altercation with the reporter sitting next to you."

"Oh," Corissa said with a shrug. "He wound up in the wrong place. I was just telling him where to go." She smiled brightly at him and slipped her arm through his. "Don't worry about it. The important thing is that you were amazing. Caf?"

She hadn't seen her parents in person since before rehearsals for this season had begun, and to be in their arms again made her as happy as the triumph of tonight's performance had. All the same, Corissa had one last thing to do before leaving the theater.

"You know the way back to the front of the house, right?" she asked her mother, pausing as if the thought had just occurred to her. "I forgot to tell Sanvi something. Can I meet you in the lobby?"

"Of course, darling," Mom said, smiling fondly as she reached out to cup Corissa's cheek. "Try not to be too long, though? Your father was so nervous today that he couldn't eat any lunch."

"That," Dad said accusingly, "was supposed to be a secret. Fathers need to maintain a strong front for their children."

Corissa laughed, delighted to be with them again and fall right back into these familiar, cozy conversations. "Dad, we all know how you worry. You didn't need to worry about this, though. Tonight was always going to go great."

"That's my girl," Dad said, pulling her in for another hug. "Always enough confidence for half a dozen daughters."

"That's because I always had you guys to believe in me," she told him, rising on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "I promise I'll only be a minute."

She watched to make sure they were heading the right way, then turned to swiftly make her way through the backstage area. He might be in his office…

A hand caught her arm and tugged her behind a piece of discarded scenery, and Corissa turned to see Julian, still looking as sheepish as he had when he'd entered her dressing room. "Sorry," he almost whispered. "I shouldn't have come to see you afterward, but I completely forgot your parents were coming tonight."

Corissa snorted, then shook her head and reached up to kiss him. "Seriously? You seriously forgot that my parents were coming to the premiere?"

"I did have a few other things on my mind today," he pointed out. "Including my own parents' visit."

"Where are they, anyway?" she asked, glancing around despite being reasonably sure that he hadn't stashed them away behind scenery pieces.

"In the lobby," he said. "I sent them to get a drink at the bar while I finished up. Are you taking yours to our cafe?"

"Hey," Corissa replied, mock indignantly. "It was my cafe before you ever came along."

He only grinned. "Yeah, sure. I'm taking mine to the restaurant by the bay. Let's just not end up at the same place, okay?"

"Definitely not the right time for that," she agreed. "Not yet, anyway." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Although Mom and Dad are probably suspicious now, considering how awkward you were."

"How awkward I was? I wasn't the one blushing into my dressing room mirror."

"And that means they'll probably mention something to Mara and Nico," Corissa sighed, ignoring him. "Mara was on your side with the whole choreography argument, but they're both protective because I'm the youngest. If they think we're a thing, they're going to get weird about it."

Julian shook his head. "I still can't believe your sister and brother-in-law are the Skywalkers."

"Eh, you'll get over that soon enough," Corissa said with a shrug. "They're perfectly ordinary people, just with laser swords and the ability to move things with their minds."

"Yes," Julian said very dryly. "I can see how exceedingly mundane that would grow to be."

"Anyway," Corissa pointed out, "Mom and Dad own their own business, and Nico is already head of a whole department at work, and Rielle is having her third gallery showing next month. Our entire family are a bunch of high achievers."

He was smiling at her again, his eyes warm with affection. "You fit right in, then. But also, your parents are waiting."

"And I promised to hurry," Corissa agreed. "Dad was so worried about tonight that he didn't eat lunch. He's probably starving now."

Julian leaned in to press his forehead against hers. "He didn't have a thing to worry about."

"That's what I told him," she said, catching his face in her hands and kissing him. "But that's just Dad for you. Okay, gotta go. See you tomorrow."

"See you," he said, stepping back with clear reluctance. "Then you can warn me about what to expect from your big brother and your sister with a laser sword."

Corissa laughed. "If they wind up being as obvious as I think, we might as well come clean. We'll see." She squeezed his hand and grinned at him, then dashed lightly off, all but overcome with happiness.

"They're going to eat me alive," Julian said, his steps slowing on the pathway to the house.

Corissa turned back to link her arm with his and drag him along. "They're not either. Well, Mara and Nico might pretend that they're going to. But they won't, and no one else will even try. You make presentations to the board and handle press conferences all the time; stop being ridiculous."

"The board and reporters are not nearly as intimidating as meeting your family," he protested, though at least he was walking at a normal pace again.

"You've already met them," she reminded him. "Come on."

They were at the door now, and Corissa opened it and pulled him across the threshold, then jumped as a voice came from behind her.

"There you are."

"Mara!" Corissa complained as she turned to face her sister, who wore a just barely perceptible smirk. "I've told you not to use the Force to sneak up on me."

"Who needs the Force?" Mara asked, resting her hand on her increasingly prominent belly. "You're not exactly quiet." She glanced at Julian; gave him a cool smile. "Master Vasseron."

"Jedi Skywalker," Julian replied—with a pretty good pretense of calm, all things considered. Mara could be intimidating when she wanted to be. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Please," Mara said, making a deprecating gesture. "'Mistress Skywalker' is fine."

"It is not," Corissa told her, exasperated. "You stop that." She gave Julian a stern look. "She's just Mara. That's what you call her. Mom, Dad!"

But it wasn't her parents who promptly appeared in the living room entrance. "Hi, Cor," Nico said. He nodded toward Julian, just as coolly as Mara had. "Master Vasseron." In his arms, little Rylan shrieked with delight and reached for Corissa.

Corissa took her nephew and kissed his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her neck. "How's my favorite boy?" she cooed, then turned back to her brother. "Do you think I didn't warn him about you two? Quit being weird." She sent Julian another firm look. "Nico. Not 'Master Jade' or anything like that. Nico and Mara, and don't put up with any of their nonsense. And this handsome boy is my nephew, Rylan. Rylan, say hello to Julian."

Rylan regarded Julian with all the solemnity a fifteen-month-old could muster, the fingers of one hand in his mouth. "'Lo," he said, rather indistinctly.

Julian smiled back at him. "Hello there."

"And that," Corissa said, gesturing behind her at Mara, "is my second niece, Kaela. She's due in two months."

"Congratulations," Julian told Mara. Corissa was reasonably sure that Mara was about to tell him that he'd already said that when they met at the theater a couple of months ago, but she glared fiercely over her shoulder at her older sister, and for a wonder, Mara closed her mouth again without saying anything.

"Aun' C'rissa!" Small running footsteps thudded into the entryway, and Corissa looked down just as Nakari collided with her leg. Nico swiftly reached down to catch her as she bounced off, but she only grabbed for Corissa's leg again and held on tight. "Aun' C'rissa, Aun' C'rissa!"

"There's my girl!" Corissa shifted Rylan to her hip and reached down to press Nakari's head gently against her leg in a one-handed hug. "Nakari, this is my friend Julian. Can you say hi?"

"Hi," Nakari said obediently, looking up at Julian but still clinging to Corissa.

"Hello," Julian greeted her. "It's very nice to meet you."

Nakari, in her turn, just looked at him curiously. "Nakari," Mara addressed her sternly. "What do we say?"

"Nice to meet you," Nakari said, still watching Julian.

"Good girl," Corissa told her, stroking her hair.

"What is everyone doing in the entryway?" Luke asked, looking over Nico's shoulder at them.

"Harassing our guest," Corissa told him meaningfully, and sure enough, her brother-in-law sighed and raised his eyebrows at Mara and Nico. Not that it had any noticeable effect. But still, she appreciated the support.

"Nakari, come here," Luke said, holding out a hand. "Aunt Corissa can't walk with you attached to her leg. She'll pick you up once she's properly inside. And you two, really?"

"Is that my baby girl?" Dad's voice came from further back in the house—the kitchen, it sounded like—and Corissa groaned.

"Don't come out here, Dad, we're coming in. Move," she told Nico, glaring.

"Excuse you," he returned, but stepped back into the living room to make room for Corissa and Julian to enter, Mara following behind.

Dad met her halfway, sweeping her into a tight hug in the middle of the living room and kissing the top of her head. "Hi, sweetheart. How was the flight?"

"Fine," she answered, returning the hug, then stepping back. "Dad, you remember Julian."

"Master Vasseron," Dad said, much more warmly than her siblings had, and Corissa couldn't help but reflect with rueful amusement that Mom and Dad probably had no idea of what Mara and Nico were pulling. After all, even Luke hadn't until she'd said it. No, it was something the two of them had cooked up together. Sometimes it was a serious trial being the youngest.

Julian shook Dad's outstretched hand. "Please, call me Julian. Thank you so much for having me."

"Not at all," Dad told him. "We're happy to have the chance to get to know you better."

With Dad focused on Julian rather than her, Corissa took the opportunity to make a face over Rylan's head at her brother and sister, both standing back at the entrance to the living room. Neither seemed impressed.

"Nadira's just putting the roast in," Dad continued. "She'll be out in a minute, and dinner will be ready within the hour. What can I get you to drink?"

"Anything at all is fine," Julian said politely.

"Hot chocolate?" Luke suggested, scooping up Nakari despite her squirming.

"I introduced him to that ages ago," Corissa said, bouncing Rylan. "Want to switch babies?"

"You are my very best student," Luke told her with a grin, taking Rylan in one arm so that Corissa could take Nakari, who wrapped her legs tightly around Corissa's waist and leaned in close.

"Aun' C'rissa," she whispered loudly. "I been practicing dance."

"You have?" Corissa asked her, genuinely delighted. "Did Mommy help you dance?"

Nakari nodded. "And Daddy and Aun' Rielle."

"I'm so proud of you!" Corissa kissed her. "You have to show me after dinner, okay?"

"'Kay," Nakari said, beaming.

"I'll get the drinks, Dad," Mara said as she came up beside Corissa and stroked Nakari's hair fondly. "Hot chocolate for everyone on a chilly night like this, I think. You go sit down and get to know Julian."

There was just the tiniest hint of emphasis on his name as she spoke. Corissa gave her a look, but the only change in Mara's expression was a glint of mischief in her eyes.

"I'll help you," Nico volunteered cheerfully, with the fake innocent expression that Corissa knew so very well from their childhood. "Luke, you can take care of Rylan for a few more minutes?"

"I can take care of him all night if you like," Luke said, grinning at their nephew, who grinned back at him.

"Look at all my helpful children," Dad said affectionately, then gestured Julian over to the couch. "Come tell me about yourself."

Julian cast her a quick apprehensive look, and Corissa gave him an encouraging smile, then leaned in toward Luke as Julian turned back toward Dad. "Helpful, my—"

"Not while you're holding my daughter, please," Luke said, clearly amused.

"You know they're plotting," she insisted.

Luke shrugged, his expression sympathetic. "I know there's no stopping them when they work together like this. They'll get over it. This is entirely protectiveness of you, you know. Mara told me after we met him at the theater that she liked him."

Corissa shook her head. "They're being ridiculous."

"They are," Luke agreed. "But it's ridiculousness motivated by love, at least. And judging by the way he looks at you, Julian isn't going anywhere just because Mara and Nico want to play guard vornskr."

An unaccustomed warmth rose in Corissa's cheeks at that, but before she could say anything, Mom entered the room, smiling widely. "Darling, I'm so glad you're here."

"Hi, Mom," Corissa said, hoping the blush wasn't noticeable and leaning into the hug as Mom wrapped her arms around her and Nakari both.

Mom pulled far enough back to kiss Corissa's cheek. "How's my star ballerina?"

"Fine," Corissa said, smiling as Nakari held her own cheek expectantly toward her grandmother and Mom leaned in again to kiss her, too. "Where's Rielle?"

"Helping your brother and sister," Mom said. "They'll all be out in a minute." She paused, glancing over at Dad and Julian. Corissa followed her gaze; Julian was sitting at one end of the couch, while Dad was leaning forward in his chair. To all outward appearances, they were completely engrossed in their conversation. Mom looked back at her, smiling again. "We've been so looking forward to getting to know Julian better, sweetheart."

She'd told Julian repeatedly not to worry about this meeting, and she'd meant it, but upon seeing the knowing look in her mother's eyes, it was all Corissa could do not to squirm. He wasn't the first guy she'd brought to meet her family, but he was by far the one who had mattered the most, and it appeared that everyone in the family knew it.

For someone who had always loved performing, she reflected ruefully, it was an odd twist to find herself uncomfortable in the spotlight.

"Everyone better be nice," she warned her mother.

Mom raised a reproachful eyebrow. "Have we ever been less than nice to any of your friends or boyfriends?"

"You, no," Corissa muttered.

Luke grinned at her, then handed Rylan to Mom. "Why don't you go sit down and relax, Nadira. I'll go help carry the hot chocolate."

"That sounds like a lovely idea, thank you," Mom said. Rylan leaned his head on her shoulder, and she patted his back. "Come along, darling."

Corissa followed her over to the sitting area, watching and sending another reassuring smile to Julian when he glanced at her during his reintroduction to her mother, then sat beside him and settled Nakari in her lap just as the others returned.

"Remember, no wiggling when we're holding hot drinks," Corissa told her niece firmly, as the hot chocolate was handed around. Nakari, sitting sideways on her lap so that she could watch Julian, nodded solemnly.

Mara was the one to give Corissa and Nakari their hot chocolate—Nakari's only about a quarter full to hopefully avoid spilling and with some crushed ice swiftly melting within to cool it for safer sipping by someone still getting the hang of reliably handling cups on her own—then sat beside Corissa and took her own mug from Luke.

Julian, who to Corissa's eyes had the faintest air of grim determination about him with Mara's reappearance, smiled at her nevertheless. "Corissa tells me that you were a dancer yourself, Mistress Skywalker."

"Mara," Corissa insisted, and gently tapped Nakari's leg. Nakari, who was steadily pressing the soles of both her feet against the side of Julian's leg, looked up at her. "You stop that," Corissa told her.

"She's fine," Julian said, a suddenly reproachful look in his eye as he glanced at her. He probably would have tolerated Nakari climbing all over him if she'd tried it, just for the sake of not potentially irritating Mara. Well, none of that was going to happen, not if Corissa had any say in it.

"She knows how to behave," Corissa told him, then turned toward her sister. "Mara," she said, with deliberate emphasis, "why don't you tell Julian about your dancing?"

Mara raised an eyebrow as she sipped her own chocolate, and Corissa could see the amusement that she was hiding. Julian, who was already nervous, who didn't yet know Mara personally, and who had thus far been unable to shake his awe over Mara and Luke being the famous Jedi Skywalkers despite all that Corissa had done to burst that particular bubble, didn't have a hope of seeing any amusement in Mara's cool expression.

Be nice, Corissa thought with all her might, careful not to include any emotion that little Nakari, Force-sensitive but still far too young to understand all the nuances inherent in such a thing, could potentially be distressed by if she picked up on her aunt's thoughts. Mara, though, glanced over at Corissa and almost smiled.

"That was a long time ago," Mara said, taking another sip of chocolate. "With only a few brief stints as a professional of any sort, and I didn't focus on ballet." Now she smiled fully at Corissa, sisterly affection apparently overriding overprotectiveness. "Not all of us are born purely for dance. Corissa has been full of compliments for your artistic direction of the company"—her eyes slid sideways toward her sister for the briefest of moments—"Julian. Mostly, anyway." Mara hid another smile behind her mug.

Julian's own smile was bright and spontaneous. "She did mention that she'd said something about her—contributions to the choreography."

"Oh, she certainly said something," Mara agreed.

This time Corissa was sure her blush was visible, and it was only for the sake of her niece's perceptions that she tamped down hard on the sudden desire to throttle both of them. "Three—"

"Grand pliés," Julian and Mara finished in unison, then to Corissa's immense surprise, they grinned at each other.

"You notice that she doesn't give in even now," Julian told Mara.

"She never will, trust me," Mara answered, still grinning.

"She's the most stubborn one in the family by far," Nico put in.

"Which is saying quite a lot," Luke added.

"Don't tease your sister," Mom said, but she was smiling too. "Even if the teasing is accurate."

Corissa groaned, and Mara nudged her shoulder affectionately with her own. "Mara," Corissa complained. "Hot drink, remember?"

From the other side of the sitting area, Rielle raised an admonishing eyebrow at Mara and spoke up for the first time. "Julian, Corissa has been pleased with the community outreach program you're working on. Why don't you tell us about that?"

Corissa gave her sister-in-law a grateful look and cuddled Nakari a little closer as Julian launched into an enthusiastic summary. Although not a dancer herself, Rielle was a firm believer that the arts should be part of everyone's life, and she and Julian were soon in deep conversation, with the rest of the family listening and occasionally joining in.

Rielle's contribution was apparently enough to break the ice, for the conversation moved naturally beyond dance and on to other subjects, and continued throughout dinner. Mom and Dad and Luke and Rielle were every bit as warm and welcoming as Corissa had expected them to be, Julian was clearly starting to feel comfortable, and while Mara and Nico were still watching him more closely than she would have preferred, they at least behaved themselves.

Everyone scattered a bit after dinner into smaller groups: Dad and Luke started the cleanup; Julian insisted on helping, Mom and Rielle settled into quiet conversation in the sitting area as Rylan drowsed in Rielle's arms, and Nakari proudly showed off her new dancing skills. It was mostly some steady bouncing in place while she alternately lifted each arm to her side, but it was pretty good for someone who had only just turned three and completely adorable besides, and Corissa happily bounced along with her until Julian reappeared in the living room.

Nakari caught sight of him first. "Ju'lyun! I dance!"

"You do," he agreed, smiling at her, and tilted his head at Corissa. "Looks like a series of grand pliés to me."

She rolled her eyes, but any remark she might have made was preempted by Nakari. "Ju'lyun dance," she ordered him, and her imperious demeanor was so entirely Mara in miniature that Corissa couldn't help but laugh.

"That's right," she said, reaching down to stroke her niece's hair. "Julian dance." She met his eyes and added, "You did say that you didn't consider yourself retired."

"Still entirely capable of a good performance, thank you," he replied, and turned back to Nakari. "Okay, you show me the steps and I'll follow."

Nakari resumed bouncing in place, her expression still absurdly serious for someone so small. "Like this!"

Julian observed her gravely, then joined in, matching her rhythm perfectly. Corissa laughed again in pure delight, and Nakari beamed up at her, still bouncing. "Aun' C'rissa done now. Ju'lyun's turn."

"Oh, I see how it is," Corissa said loftily. "You just wanted a new dance partner."

"You have to watch out for the egos of principals," Julian told Nakari solemnly, also still bouncing. "Want to learn a new dance step?"

Nakari turned her next bounce into a jump. "New dance, Ju'lyun!"

Corissa smiled at them both and took the opportunity to join Mara, who was leaning against the far wall and watching the impromptu dance party with an amused look in her eyes. "Why aren't you sitting?" Corissa asked her.

Mara briefly made a face and rubbed her belly. "This one apparently wants to dance, too. As long as that's going on, I'm more comfortable standing." She slid a sideways glance at Corissa and added, "I like him."

"You've got a funny way of showing it," Corissa pointed out.

Mara shrugged. "He's definitely better than that guy you dated who kept calling me Mayra."

"That lasted a month," Corissa said dismissively.

"It was a very long month," Mara informed her, but she was smiling.

Corissa leaned back against the wall herself and looked at her sister. "So if you like him, why were you trying to scare him?"

"Pfft," Nico said as he joined them. "If he scares that easily, he's not good enough for you."

"Don't think you can butter me up like that," Corissa told him.

Nico smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. "Sorry, Cor, but we only have the one baby sister, you know. We have to watch out for her."

On Corissa's other side, Mara linked their arms, pressing Corissa's arm against her own side. "What he said."

Corissa leaned her head on Nico's shoulder and looked sideways at Mara. There was a fathomless depth of emotion there, she knew; not merely ordinary familial love, but the pain of separation and all the years Mara had spent alone, and how very precious all her family was to her now. She didn't think that Mara would ever be able to fully leave those isolated and lonely years behind her; they would always be a part of her, and the foundation of all her relationships: the awe that love like this existed at all, that it could be hers, that there was so much more to life than she'd once realized.

She also knew that her sister would never want all of those private emotions dragged out in a group setting, not even if that group was the family that she loved so much. So she just smiled and said, "I didn't see you protecting Nico from Rielle."

Nico barked a sudden laugh. "Are you kidding? She was terrible when she first met Rielle."

Mara was watching Nakari and Julian again—Julian had set Nakari to stand on top of his own feet and was holding her hands as he danced a slow waltz in the center of the room, Nakari giggling madly—but smiled at that. "I was not."

"You so were," Nico said.

Corissa looked between them. "How do I not know this story?"

Nico's arm tightened around her as he followed Mara's gaze. "I'll tell you another time."

Corissa narrowed her eyes at him, but he was right. There was plenty of time. She put her head back down on her brother's shoulder, squeezed her sister's arm, and contentedly watched Julian dance.

In the four years since Mara and Luke had moved to Contruum, they'd entirely transformed the huge piece of property they'd bought. A far cry from the once-barren, bulldozed site intended for a shopping center, it was now a lush green park, carefully landscaped so that it felt even larger than it was, with winding paths and clusters of trees, fountains and flower gardens and gazebos and benches and meditation areas. Their own house was tucked away on one side of the property, with a small apartment complex for future students and their families on another side, another complex set aside for classrooms on a third side, and another house intended for the Solo family was beginning to be planned at one corner, now that Leia was slowly disengaging herself from the workings of the New Republic government. In another year or two, everyone hoped, her family would also be settled on Contruum, with Leia to finalize her own training and the children to officially start theirs.

The Jedi Academy itself had very few students thus far; Mara and Luke had been inordinately busy just directing the setting up of the campus they'd planned so thoroughly, not to mention parenting Nakari, who'd been born only a few months after they'd moved, and now Kaela, who wasn't yet six months old. But the fledgling Academy was already a source of pride for the area—not to mention a mild economic influx, considering the extensive construction and landscaping needed; apparently Luke had inherited a rather large sum of money from his father and had felt it only appropriate that the credits should go toward rebuilding the Jedi Order—and word was spreading. There would be more students soon, and eventually this place would be a bustling center of learning.

But for now, it was still a quiet family place, large and luxurious though it was, and when Mara and Luke offered it as a wedding site, Corissa and Julian had gladly taken them up on it. They'd always planned for the wedding to be smaller than not, but between their families and closest friends, there were still enough people coming that they could never have afforded anywhere half so nice that would have accommodated them all. Julian had tried to offer at least the amount they'd expected to pay for a venue, but that went over about as well as she'd warned him it would; Mara had raised her eyebrows at him and Luke had only laughed.

Corissa was grateful for their generosity, but she was so much more grateful simply that she had them all in her life: Mom and Dad, who'd worked so hard and sacrificed so much to keep the family safe and together; Nico, her lifelong best friend and protector; Mara, who should have been there all along and who meant so much to her now that she didn't know how she'd ever managed without her; and Luke and Rielle and the children, and Leia and her family, and now Julian's parents too.

And so she found herself at sunset, sitting next to her big sister, in one of the prettiest places she'd ever seen, surrounded by her beloved family and watching her new husband dance with her niece.

She was, Corissa decided, unspeakably lucky.

Beside her, Mara gazed at the sky with obvious satisfaction. "Your wedding won't get rained out, at least."

"I told you that you didn't need to worry about that," Corissa said.

"No, I didn't," Mara replied, "because this time I remembered to order the damned canopies."

Corissa tried to hide her smile. "Your wedding was still perfect, even if it was inside."

"It was," Mara agreed, smiling a little herself at the memory. "But there were fewer people and tables to move inside at the last minute, too. There are plenty of canopies in reserve today. But it doesn't look like we'll need them."

Held close on her lap, little Kaela babbled something and smiled brightly up at her mother as she reached for the glass Mara held. Mara carefully set the glass down on the table, well out of Kaela's reach, and kissed her head. Corissa watched regretfully. "Are you sure I can't hold her?"

Mara snorted. "She'd yank the beads right off your dress. You can hold her when she falls asleep, if you want."

Corissa sighed. "I should have chosen a baby-proof dress."

"No such thing," Mara said. "Hold babies tomorrow. Today, enjoy your wedding."

"I am," Corissa assured her, looking around. Julian and Nakari were still out on the temporary dance floor that Mara and Luke had considerately arranged to be laid out in the middle of the large clearing set aside for the reception, as were Mom and Dad, Nico and Rielle, Luke and Jaina, Leia and Anakin, and various friends. Other friends were seated at the scattered tables, finishing dinner and chatting. Julian's parents were having an extended conversation with Chewie, facilitated by Threepio, while Han took a turn watching Rylan by carrying him around on his shoulders and Jacen was crouching off to the side and peering into a bush, probably watching some insect.

The string quartet that Mara had hired finished their current piece with a flourish, and Julian scooped Nakari up into his arms and carried her back to the table. "Mommy!" she called as they neared, grinning widely. "Aun' C'rissa! We danced!"

Corissa made a show of applauding her, and Mara laughed. "It was wonderful dancing, sweetheart," she said. "Now let Aunt Corissa dance with Uncle Julian."

"We'll dance again afterward," Julian told Nakari, preempting the pout that had begun to form.

"And Daddy will want to dance with you too," Mara added. "Sit right here with me and wait for him, okay?"

Artoo rolled up just as Julian set her down, and that settled the matter. "Artoo!" Nakari yelped, catching sight of him. "Artoo, I danced!" Artoo warbled obligingly at her, and Mara made shooing motions at Corissa and Julian as the music started up again.

"Go, go," she stage-whispered. "While you still can."

Julian already had Corissa's hand in his, and pulled her along with him as the sun slipped past the horizon and the strings of lights threaded through the trees began to shine. "There's only one thing about today that seems off," he confided as they reached the dance floor and took their positions.

"And that would be?"

"You haven't argued with me once all day," he said. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

Corissa laughed. "It's my wedding present to you. Don't get used to it."

Julian grinned back at her, and Corissa reached up to kiss him, her heart swelling with joy.

And they danced.