Are more Inquisitors here on Alderaan? Did the Inquisitor I killed stay in contact with its fellows? Might someone be coming right now? An army of someones? And who were they after? How can I get to finding them?

And what about Vader—?

"Oh!"

"Ooph!"

The collision jarred me from my thoughts, on which I'd been far too focused to even notice the approaching figure. Jarred, it took me a moment to recognize the distinctive hue of eyes, shape of face, and sour lilt to her lips.

Padmé blinked. "Mr. Whitesun?"

"Padmé—I mean—Princess. Sorry," I said, offering my hand. She accepted with grace, and we got up together. "So sorry. I wasn't looking…"

She wore, as usual, an elaborate silk dress, today's a flowing caftan in honey hues that highlighted her eyes and made her naturally tan skin glow. Her lips, formerly set in a tight and upbraiding frown, suddenly shaded upward. "No worries," she replied, seeming entirely genuine. "Neither was I, really. You're back at the palace already?"

"I'm afraid you might soon tire of my presence around here," I deadpanned. We began to walk together.

"Well, you're quite wrong about that. I find your presence very soothing." At this last, she gave a chuckle. "I apologize. That was improper of me to say."

"Not at all. I'm glad to hear it."

"How long will you be staying?"

"I really don't know." I'd be staying until Erso died, after which my mission to steal the plans would begin. But given none of us knew precisely how long the man might hang on… "A few days, at least."

"That's wonderful! I've been hoping for your list, soon. Maybe we could talk about it together?"

The list of good places on Riosa. I could've groaned. I had entirely— entirely —forgotten about that commitment. I needed to start keeping some kind of planner or something.

To do: Rebel against the Empire.

Find out about the Inquisitor.

Keep everyone safe from said Empire.

Steal the Death Star plans.

Oh, and keep up the farm…

Easy. On the scope of it, helping Padmé with a few charitable missions seemed so very paltry—all those "poor, bumbling dears" to serve.

But I felt it important to tend my relationship with my niece, particularly since the Force kept screaming this fact at me whenever I came around her. Important, said the Force. Important. This had been true since she was young, and I'd always attributed it to her status as princess of a core world. But lately it had become even more incessant, even more potent…

And I couldn't put my finger precisely on why.

"I'd like that," I replied with a smile.

And so I ended up eating dinner with my niece, who considered me her honored guest. She put on quite the show, making sure no less than four servitor droids lay in wait to minister to our every need. Having never seen so much food in my life, I actually began salivating, and had to take a hasty sip from my goblet of nectar. I needed to watch how Padmé deftly handled the various forks and spoons with each dish in order to know which to use.

While we ate, we discussed a multitude of topics, ranging from Riosa and my suggestions on possible destinations (all far away from the part of the planet where I was supposedly a count with a great estate) to Alba and Nigel Tarkin's entrance into the Imperial Academy on Coruscant soon.

"Of course, it's an honor," said Padmé, "to serve the Empire in any capacity—and the Imperial Academy is the best there is for the navy! (Not that their admittance suprised me.) But it does mean I'll see less of them."

"Especially Alba?" I suggested.

She sighed, nodding. "But I'm sure it will all be alright," she said with optimistic determination. "After all, how could it not be?"

And her innocence, her belief, her complete naivete, but all of these whole genuine made my heart hurt. Because she had not yet realized that a sparkling crown and shrewd manipulations couldn't make everything perfect for her in this life. In a way, I really admired it. In another way, I feared for her.

The shattering of that illusion must come, and someday soon. And what, then, would be left of this loving, spoiled, manipulative, but dutiful aristocratic young girl with her fixation on perfection?

I ventured gently, "Times change. And, of course, you would know that, nearing your Day of Demand as you are. But change doesn't always mean 'bad,' Princess Padmé. Change is very often what we make of it. Often it makes us."

She considered this. "I don't like change much," she admitted, a restless and insolent edge to her voice, as though of a child deprived of her favorite toy by another. "Why should things have to change?"

"It is a universal law, I believe."

"Then the law should be changed," she replied succinctly and so seriously I couldn't laugh.

"And who should do that?"

"Well—the Emperor, perhaps. He can do anything."

Almost, I thought.

Almost.

And that was the very thing that kept me up nights where Hutts and sand people and starvation and the pitiless desert failed to do so.

A bit later, Han and Leia actually came to join us. Unlike earlier, the couple was chatting easily among themselves, with Han being shamelessly flirtatious toward her. It made me smile, and I noticed a light enter Padmé's eyes, too. Clearly her parents' strife hadn't gone unnoticed by she who missed so little.

Padmé rose from her chair, bobbing a curtsy to her mother. "Your Majesty."

"Daughter," returned Leia with such coolness it made my smile freeze, then retreat. The hopeful light in Padmé's eyes dimmed slightly, yet she remained resilient.

"I invited Mr. Whitesun to join me," she said, indicating me, "since I wasn't sure if either of you could make it."

"Course!" Han replied. Unlike his cooler counterpart, he seemed as openly affectionate with his daughter as ever. He plopped a kiss on her head. "Whatever you want, sweetie."

Padmé seemed cheered, and soon the four of us were dinning together. Given the disparate times in which we'd begun eating, Padmé and I both worked on our deserts while Han and Leia ate their main courses, but the conversation remained lively and pleasant. It felt very familial, and warmed me, right up until Leia severely chastened her daughter for calling me by name.

"Daughter! Mr. Whitesun is our honored guest, and you must treat him as such! I raised you with better manners."

Padmé, blinking, bewildered, seemed to struggle for speech for several moments. I cut in, "It's alright. I told her she could call me that."

But apparently, I'd only made the situation worse somehow. Rising like a great cat, with her already imposing height looming over me, Padmé regarded me with regal coolness. "I apologize," she said formally, "Mr. Whitesun. My mother is right. We are not so familiar that we should take on such manner-less airs."

Feeling crushed as if by an avalanche under that cold and commanding gaze, I mustered up a, "Oh."

It was all that came out, for pure power poured off the young woman in that moment, dwarfing any courage I might have mustered in this blundering moment. I swore the table shook a little under my hands, though I couldn't tell if that might just be me.

At least Padmé took this as an acknowledgement. She curtsied to her mother. "Your Majesty," she said as evenly as anything, "if you don't mind, I shall take my leave for the night."

Leia seemed stricken, but also incapable. "Of course," she said, tone gentler, but she made no other word or attempt to soothe her daughter. Padmé walked away with the same calm grace as ever, yellow skirts whispering against the cool stone.

My heart was hammering like mad, a heady rush of feelings coordinating with the one pinpoint of realization within me, all threads leading there. I buried my face in my hands, and only came out to breathe, "Idiot."

Han, gaze stormy, laughed cruelly. Leia's flashing brown gaze whirled on me. Apparently both had taken my words to be an accusation of her.

"You have no children," Leia retorted, temper ignited. "So you can hardly be telling me how to raise mine."

Leia, I thought. You never raised your daughter at all.

"Don't get on him!" Han threw in. "He's just sayin' the truth—"

Sitting up, a move which drew both of the arguing spouses' attention, I bowed my head. "I apologize. Believe me when I say I didn't mean it that way. I was talking to myself."

"—what?"

"I'll explain later," I said, smiling. And with that, I hustled out. The sounds of the queen and viceroy's subsequent argument continued on behind me, like the harsh lashing of a furious thunderstorm, lightening and all. Or so I believed. I'd never been in one in my life.

But I couldn't think about that. I couldn't think of anything except my exultation at what I had just figured out. I knew exactly why the Inquisitor had been here, and for whom.

I understood it all.

OOO

Author's note: So... who do you think the Inquisitor was here for?

Also, I feel I should explain in brief my interpretation of Leia in this story. I love Leia. She is NOT a bad person, but she did turn out to be a pretty neglectful mother. The reasons behind that will be revealed as the story goes on. I really think she is very sympathetic, and her reasons for how she ended up mothering (or not) Padmé make a ton of sense imo.

Thanks for reading! I'd love getting a review if you feel up to it.