A/N: Confession time. I was nervous for a long while that, after the rooftop chapter, a lot of readers would pack their bags and move on. Not because they wouldn't like it, but because the lovebirds had finally worked out their misunderstandings and gotten together. Soon after, real life pulled me away from writing for a month, and I was sure I was going to lose readers in that unexpected hiatus. Instead, the continued presence and vocal support has been heartwarming on a level I can never put into words. Thank y'all, sincerely, for still being here. :)

Next, after a lot of thinking on it, I decided to split up what would have been one very long chapter. Too long. #53 and #54 are very much sister chapters. I hope you enjoy the first installment.

53. Vox Montoa, Part One

He has been disassembled by her.
And if she has brought him to this, what has he brought to her?

— Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Passionate love pickpockets things from you. Its fingers slide clinical intuition out from your coat long before you realize what's missing. This thief lifts inhibitions so deftly, it makes the movement of a moth's wing seem thunderous. When it's feeling extra daring, it will replace the empty air with drunk delirium, and it will do it so well you never even sense the difference. Maybe all this unloading business is the source of that classic cliché: those newly in love tend to report feeling so spectacularly light. They're not aware the weights they no longer feel were perception and critical thinking, now gone. Love's sleight of hand is smooth and quick, as it ought to be— it's certainly had ample practice. Drills spanning across eons, species, and circumstances has turned it into an expert in the art form.

It did fast work with me; it emptied my pockets in record time. When I eventually dug my own fingers into my treasuries, lint harvested under my scraping nails. That's all hindsight is, isn't it? An assembly line of warning signs which ends in a pile as unserviceable as lint.

I was unaware a precarious precedent had already formed long before we left Coruscant to wed. It was there before we hastened from Geonosis. It had constructed itself before we departed Naboo. The truth is, although he had plenty of ire for each, it was more comfortable for Anakin to divert his frustrations at my governmental duty rather than on his Jedi oaths. Politics is an easy target, after all, even if your husband knows you're one of the few actors trying to fix the stage. I accepted our reality with resignation; he accepted it with resentment. Constantly, I had to step into the role of juggling the protection of both our careers, whereas my husband would've been fine ripping the veil away. I think he meant it, that night by the fireplace, when he earnestly said we could keep it a secret. He would've committed to the endeavor forever for the sake of my wishing to, if for nothing else. But the brutal death of his mother on Tatooine and my multiple near-demises on Geonosis brought priorities into blunt focus for him.

We never did find a satisfying balance. We didn't even have balance within ourselves. My exhaustion between loving my-husband-the-general in secrecy versus honoring my wartime responsibilities as a Senator never ceased. As for him, he wanted the galaxy in the palm of his hand just as much as he always wanted it to leave us alone. By the time he tried dragging me to where he ultimately landed, it was too late— there was no political career to salvage, nor Jedi vows to break. There was no choice left at all.

There was nothing but lint.

Hindsight.

And the memories.

"If Corellia was even an option—"

"—Which it wouldn't be—"

"—It would mean turning around—"

"—It's far too close to Coruscant."

"And it's far too close to Coruscant."

Another moment as pairs of engrossed eyes scanned the screen.

"Bestine is out. Hosnian Prime…"

Anakin rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger. Slipping into an abominable impression of a certain ancient being, he vetoed, "Hmmm. A wise choice, it would not be."

"Agreed. Same problems as Corellia. What about… this one?"

The act was dropped for a return to the kind of supreme confidence only a teenager can bear. "No. It's too populated."

I double-checked to make sure we were looking at the same moon. "…Debatable, but alright."

His finger suddenly jetted out to point at Boda Sul. "Here?"

"I'm too well-acquainted with their Senator. We've only met a few times, but—" I shook my head and grimaced, providing an exhibit of my veto before saying, "I'd rather we land somewhere represented by a delegate I've never been associated with."

Anakin shifted his body weight from one leg to the other. His eyebrows pinched into diagonal lines, and his chin cocked slightly to the left. He was back in what I simply dubbed 'Jedi mode'— the investigative and serious edition of himself I imagined he was while on assignments. Well, assignments which didn't involve flirting with and seducing the center of his duty.

We were standing side by side in the cockpit, hunched over the right console, analyzing an illuminated map of neighboring star systems. On my left, the lightning parade of hyperspace silently passed beyond the windows. Artoo was observing us with his large, black lens from a few feet away. We'd sent Threepio back to the kitchen gallery to do his complaining over the lack of courtesy in humans there.

I pointed at Sura Sura. "What about that one?"

"Eh. Master Obi-Wan and I had a mission there last year. The settlements have a high propensity for crime."

I made a low "hmm" in understanding of his subtext. Crime itself wasn't a threat to us— not with my ability to smooth-talk, and Anakin's ability to say nothing and yet everything just by pointing at his lightsaber. But crime equated security cameras. It meant attentive onlookers keeping watch.

"Too bad. Other than that, it's a tropical paradise." His eyes narrowed as his bottom lip tucked itself under its higher spouse, seemingly unconsciously. For a moment, I forgot about our objective. Since when did rapt concentration make a person look so attractive? "We need somewhere more boring."

"But not so boring that the arrival of two outsiders brings attention." I continued studying the handsome face as I spoke. We needed to land on the fabled moons of Iego. Only there might a man like this one slip in without hooking appreciative eyes.

"Yup."

I heaved a sigh and bent my neck in thought. After, I felt the tender weight of Anakin's left hand on the corner of my back. He massaged in a circle, dispelling some of the tension seizing my muscles. I leaned into his presence and commiseration as we resumed our search for the perfect planet or moon. It had to be one not so far from our route that it would greatly delay our arrival on Naboo. One populated enough that two people— and two humans, at that— could blend in without notice, but not so populated that we risked recognition. General anonymity wasn't one of my strengths at the moment. Thanks to the assassination attempts, my involvement in the Battle of Geonosis, and the tabloid picture with Jurue, I'd been a regular feature in recent HoloNet bulletins.

My partner in this hunt tapped the bottom of his chin with golden fingers, squinting as he did so at images on the orange-lit map. "This is tougher than I thought it would be."

Stopping briefly at a spaceport had never been outside the realm of possibility. In fact, in a year not peppered with threats to my life, it was routine. Naboo is a Mid Rim planet closer to the Outer Rim boundary line than not, and it's a hefty distance from Coruscant— itself deeply-entrenched in the Core World region. The Nubian yacht had a class 0.9 hyperdrive, but that only shortened our flight to fifteen hours. Fortunately for our backs and legs, Anakin and I weren't cramped into fighter jets. The ship was ours to roam.

But that hadn't meant coming out of hyperspace at some point was ever completely ruled out. After breakfast in my apartment, we'd danced around the topic without ever coming to a decision. It was obvious both of us preferred a straight shot to Varykino, but I had two solid reasons to want to drop out of lightspeed— ones I couldn't make myself forget, regardless of the possible consequences.

Coming out of hyperspace— even for a minute— meant the ship would finally collect any waylaid transmissions it wasn't capable of receiving while traveling faster than the speed of light. As much as my focus was on being a bride, I remained a Galactic Senator for a Republic at war. If something significant occurred, Dormé knew to transmit the information out to my ship immediately. My greatest fear was that I'd hear something which would force us to turn around.

No, not true. My greatest fear was that I wouldn't have any messages from Dormé at all.

I'd instructed my decoy to send confirmation when they'd left Coruscant's atmosphere, before embarking on their own lightspeed travel. There would be a boulder on my chest until I knew the ship officially, however falsely, carrying Senator Amidala had left the capital unharmed.

It should've been simple— drop out of hyperspace long enough to know my staff was safe, and to discern if the galaxy had unraveled in the few personal hours I'd dared to take for myself. If only. Dropping out of lightspeed and opening up our communications meant opening ourselves up to hails from Obi-Wan Kenobi as well. We couldn't avoid him forever, but if we managed to make it to Varykino before the groom was summoned back to Coruscant, at least it would allow us the chance to have a marriage ceremony first.

It became a strain between us, hence why the conversation had been dropped before a decision reached. My fiancé's position was clear— keep all comms off until the day after the wedding. The young man with a history of taking bold chances didn't want to entertain any of the sort now. Anakin hadn't appreciated that, on our literal journey to be married, I felt compelled to check in for critical news from my staff— even if doing so might mean we had to go back to Coruscant. I don't think he comprehended how drastic an event would have to be for me to abort our getaway. On my end, I didn't appreciate that he directed his sourness at my obligations when it was far more likely we'd receive a summons from his Master, not from my office. All Master Kenobi had to do was try to reach Anakin at my apartment— for any reason at all— and then Dormé or Captain Typho would deliver news of his Padawan's departure.

But in one of those classic bouts of immaturity that reminded me he was still a teenager, Anakin hadn't wanted to admit that if it came to our separation, his tether was more likely to be the culprit. He was as interested in indulging the "disingenuous" and "oligarchy" Senate, which "would make no progress towards resolving any issue for a month anyways", as he was in catching radiation sickness. I'd ignored his obvious deflection and projection in the moment because I knew where he was coming from. Neither of us wanted to give the Jedi Order the chance to officially end his assignment and split us up. We were far from ready for that moment… If we would ever be.

The scales were tipped when Threepio simply set about trying to make lunch. As if in threatening protest, Anakin's stomach actually growled a second after the droid informed us there was no food. It didn't take long to deduce how we'd come to have a barren pantry.

The guards aiding my security at Varykino had used the yacht as their off-duty headquarters to sleep. I'd never told them they weren't welcome to the villa's kitchen, and in fact had encouraged Teckla and Nandi to prepare them meals. But the ship had been tucked away at an off-site floating platform, accessible only by water speeder. Understandably, it seems the guards had decided raiding the ration supplies of the yacht was a faster way to satisfy their hunger than to travel to the lodge. I don't think they ever meant to return the ship to my possession without restocking it, but then, we'd announced my and Anakin's departure so suddenly. What's more, when we initially flew out of the Royal Hangar, no one imagined the yacht would be making intergalactic flights any time soon. Given the lack of notice we'd given the guards, we were luckily they'd been able to hand over a tidy ship with freshly cleaned sheets.

Neither Ani nor I had appetites when rushing to Tatooine, and we were full from our breakfast with the Lars when dashing to Geonosis. There had been no prior reason to raid the cabinets ourselves. Thus, here we were— not yet halfway through our flight, stomachs already chanting for offerings like ignored gods.

Hunched over the starboard console, the man next to me remained absorbed in our quest. Both of his hands were braced on the counter, fingers supporting weight like a competitive runner about to burst forward. I, however, was mentally and physically beginning to lean away from the screen. We'd been at this for half an hour. I rubbed my forehead with my fingers. "Maybe we're over thinking this."

Anakin frowned and stood straight. "Why do you say that?"

I gestured at the illuminated grid. "We're picking over these places like we're vacationing. I think we need to take a step back. All this came about because we wanted to stop somewhere long enough to pick up something to eat. That is all." I pointedly looked at the droid in the corner. "It doesn't really matter where we go— not when we can just send one or both of the droids down the ramp to buy us a bag of rations. Neither of us even needs to leave the ship." I shrugged casually. "Really, we need to touch down somewhere Republic-friendly, just in case. Artoo and Threepio can take of the rest." I smiled at my astromech. "They survived an enemy droid foundary and an execution arena. They can handle a food market."

Artoo blurted a response about being babysitter to a simpleton.

"Hey, give him some credit," I challenged back. "He lasted ten years on Tatooine with those wits."

When I looked up, to my surprise, Anakin appeared disappointed. His face had fallen. After a moment, he nodded timidly and mumbled, "Alright."

I waited a few seconds to see if he would elaborate. There was only more frowning and the avoiding of my eye. "What's wrong?"

"No," he shook his head. "No, you're right." He waved a loose, almost flippant hand at Artoo as he began walking towards him. "We can just send the droids. What do you say, Artoo? Feel like stretching your wheels?"

The binary answer was neutrally obliging this time.

I looked at the back of Anakin's head as he moved further away from me. I loved the way his ponytail curved in its last inch. It reminded me of a bluebeard— a large bird native to Kashyyyk, so named for the 'S' shaped hair which grows under their chins (what its name is in Wookie I haven't the slightest idea and wouldn't try to pronounce if I did). More than once, I'd wondered if he ever grew his hair out, would it be straight like it had been when he was a boy, or would this evidence be an indicator of soft waves. The coils at the base of his neck certainly signaled that the era of linear strands had ended.

As much as I appreciated Anakin's hair, I would've much rather seen his face at the moment. "I just feel we somehow turned a simple thing into a complex mission. We don't need much to tide us over till we get to Naboo."

"If we get to Naboo."

He reached out his flesh thumb to rub away a smudge on the side of Artoo's dome. I purposely let silence nestle between us, using it to reexamine his shift in mood; his eager, relentless effort of finding the perfect port. How he had turned down several realistic choices, even though Anakin was even more a servant to his stomach than me to mine. His abrupt disappointment when I verbalized the quickest and least complicated path to resolution. Understanding dawned.

"Ani?" I paused until he turned around, then I queried, "Were you trying to stall the deliberations?"

I barely caught the way his brows jerked north. He looked past me towards the lightspeed beams. Their blue light flickered over the brethren shade in his eyes. "What gave you that idea?"

{I followed you on the HoloNet for years— right up to your work on the Military Creation Act. There's not a news article about you I haven't read. Not a picture of you I didn't commit to memory.}

"You told me on the rooftop that you've kept a close eye on my movements." I placed a hand on the console. Leaning my weight into it, I tilted my head to the side playfully. A smile spread across my face. "You knew I'd say no to Boda Sul when you suggested it, didn't you? You already knew I've been seen with their Senator." I grinned more teasingly and pitched my voice higher. "Clever move."

Anakin seemed to hesitate. His eyes darted between mine and the vivid light beyond the windows. I'd bet he was warring with either continuing his facade of innocence or jumping at the chance to take bask in the warmth I was sending his way.

Ultimately, he decided on the latter. Letting out a deep, revealing sigh, he strolled with heavy legs towards me. Arms opened and I walked into them like we'd been doing this for centuries.

His chin found residence on the top of my head. I buried five of my fingers in the space between his brown tunic and the leather tabard, enveloping them in the pocket of extra body heat I found there. His jaw pressed into my crown as he spoke. "I just thought…" Another sigh, this time one that moved me with him when his chest expanded. "If I could drag out our search until we're closer to Naboo, even if there is a summons, we might still be close enough to…"

"I know." I burrowed the side of my face against the fabrics above his heart. What better evidence did we need to prove we were designed for one another apart from, when resting in his embrace, my ear was the perfect distance from the ground to match the placement of his heart? "I understand."

We stood like that for a long moment, finding all the tranquility we'd ever sought right there in each other's arms. We'd denied ourselves this for so long— I had denied us this. Keeping him at arm's length or further; giving signs as to my true feelings, only to belittle him or flee in a rush of fear. With his arms around my lower back now and his scent filling my nostrils, I couldn't remember why I'd ever fought it. Too soon, our sacred oasis was interrupted by a persistent growling sound emanating from a loud stomach.

I looked up at him and played coy. "Was that you?"

My sun god's lips extended wide as he laughed heartily. "Actually, milady, I think this time that was you."

I smiled back, too charmed by the sight and sound of his laugh to feel embarrassed. My fiancé may have declared he wanted all comms ignored till the day after the wedding, but my heart didn't want them turned back on until we'd had at least a decade by the lake to ourselves.

Unfortunately, something about the level of fantasy inherent in such a wish reminded me of the straitjacket that was our reality. It was fastened with a thickening cord of concern.

"Anakin?"

He dipped his head and brushed the tip of his nose against mine in a sweeping motion. "Hmm?"

My voice was quiet in the cockpit, but steady. "I don't want to wait in suspense anymore. I want to get this over with."

He stilled, diagnosing my expression. The mirth was gone in his eyes by the time he stated, "You want to drop out of hyperspace and toggle on the comms. Now."

He knew me well enough not to phrase it as a question.

"I think we should. Just to make sure there's nothing there." We had the technology to fly faster than the speed of light, but that wasn't fast enough to escape the dread of the unknown. Greedy for all the happiness I could hoard, I wanted to relish in our lead up to the wedding just as much as I wanted to enjoy a blissful honeymoon— which we had no guarantee we would even have. Every moment with this man was precious. "The fear of opening up the comms will only increase the longer we go without checking them. I don't like how it's hanging over our heads."

He lifted one arm to briefly sweep a hand back and forth in the empty space above my head. "There. Gone." When I didn't mimic his impish smile, it dropped, and he resumed his hold round my waist. "The sun's shining on 500 Republica, Padmé. Your staff is still hours from leaving."

"I know that."

"You aren't about to hear they took off safely."

I struggled to meet his eye. "I know."

Anakin's hold around my torso tightened. "All you might do is cause us to hear something which will force us to turn around. You want to risk that?" Before I could reply, he pressed, "And even if we come out of hyperspace and there have been no transmissions, that doesn't mean none will be sent in the minutes after we're back on our way. That fear to check merely resets."

"Of course."

His already tense features hardened. "We're not even at the midway point, and you already want to do this."

"It's distracting us from fully enjoying ourselves—"

"I don't feel distracted. I'm right here." He squeezed my middle with his forearms, emphasizing his point. "With you."

The constriction of his arms had become slightly uncomfortable. He evidently didn't realize how tightly he was holding me. I wrestled an arm out to place a gentle hand on his right cheek. Freeing the limb restored my ability to easily breathe. "As am I, with you. But we can't turn off the comms for the rest of our lives. Even if that's what we both want."

"This isn't the rest of our lives. This is our mad dash to get married."

How could I express to him juxtaposing feelings even I labored to sort? War had broken out in the very galaxy we were sneaking across. The devoted, ever-present public servant inside me— rattled by the spontaneous sprint for love and pleasure's sake— was insisting I at least check for news. The rest of me wanted to stab that nagging presence with Anakin's blade.

"Ani, if our trip has to be cut short, wouldn't you rather discover it before we get our hopes up too high? It won't be any easier to turn the ship around when Naboo is visible from the cockpit."

His eyes were almost hidden by the downward slope of his brow. "Are you saying you want to make multiple drops out of lightspeed?" His hands abandoned my sides and he took a step backwards. "Is it going to be like this on Naboo? Are we going to pause the wedding vows so you can check in with your staff?"

I didn't dignify his question with an answer, apart from fixing him with an unimpressed glare.

Then I waited. As I was learning, moments like these with Anakin were oftentimes like an asteroid meeting an atmosphere. His temper could inflame with swift speed. Trying to turn its trajectory around was a consuming improbability. Yet, when given enough of my quiet patience, his molten missile would burn itself out and disintegrate. Here, the anger visibly passed through and out his body. The slanted eyebrows retreated. His shoulders relaxed again. "I'm sorry." I'd hoped he'd step forward and resume our embrace, but instead his arms came up to cross over his chest. His tone was matter-of-fact. "That was an overreaction."

He wasn't perfect.

"Oh, was it?"

"I said I was sorry, Padmé."

A long exhalation preempted the drooping of my shoulders. I met his gaze morosely. "This is exactly the kind of tension I wanted to avoid by simply checking the comms. Odds are high there's nothing there." He began to say something, but I held my hand up. "But I'm sorry too. I thought it would be easier for me to drop everything and run into the abyss with you. But I-I don't know how to turn off this voice in the back of my mind, and I just want to focus on being with you, but I…"

"Putting your wants first doesn't come naturally." He strolled forward and lifted his warm hand to my cheek. The back of his fingers caressed my skin, painting loving strokes. "I know. You're wildly out of practice, my love."

"I should've seen this coming. I take responsibility. I was the one who said we should rush off Coruscant as quickly as possible."

"I didn't exactly put up any argument."

"So much work has to be done to support and oversee an army. There was barely any legislation ready— it was all contingent on the Military Creation Act passing— and none of the language was geared towards clone soldiers! Maybe if I'd gotten more work done after I returned to the capital, sat in on more meetings, instead of—" I clamped my lips shut, bringing a sudden halt to my release. I decided I'd rather tilt into Anakin's now open, affectionate palm. Revisiting the lost hours of separation and agony served no purpose. This. Here. This was all I wanted.

He cupped the side of my face with the bulk of his hand but left his thumb free to brush my cheek. A weightlessness returned to his gaze. "Well. If we have to turn around, at least we'll take fond memories from this flight."

I lifted an eyebrow ruefully. "How can you say that? We've spent most of it in different rooms." I finished this with a pointed look. The separation hadn't been my idea.

He only smiled. The canvassing thumb traveled lower until he was running it across my bottom lip. "Ah, but what of our time in the gallery? Does that not count?"

There was a time when I'd asked him not to look at me in the way he was now. The feelings his stare had elicited scared me in their strength and heat— stirrings I'd lamely classified as 'uncomfortable'. I'd learned much about myself since then. I was a bolder woman unafraid to want a passionate man. I waited for the surveyor to pass over the center of my lips, then I pushed my folds forward to kiss the pad of his thumb. The moisture of my inner lips made them stick to the dry skin of him. I used this melding to suck just enough for him to feel the pull. Still meeting his eyes under my lashes, I moved the tip of my tongue forward, tasting him.

Anakin's lips parted and a hoarse gasp escaped. His eyes darkened as he watched me with keen fixation. My heartbeat pulsed like a detonator. I was vaguely aware that Artoo was taking the initiative to rapidly escort himself out of the room.

I released the thumb from my suckling kiss, and his hand withdrew to my hip, curving around it. Even though the cockpit had just been rendered completely ours thanks to one perceptive droid, I began walking around Anakin towards the path out. I lifted my right hand and wrapped its fingers around his Padawan braid.

With a smile, I tugged just enough on his thread to indicate my desire for him to follow. "We can pick up where we left off." I wasn't thinking of the gallery. I was thinking of the wide bed located in the rear of the ship in its own cabin.

The tan fingers that had steadily lost their hold on my hip jerked out to grab my left hand, halting me. He was shaking his head and smiling, but the light didn't quite make it to his eyes. "I don't think so." I released his braid as I gazed back questioningly. His smile was gone by the time he stepped forward, simultaneously pulling me closer to him. He let go of our limp clasp to take his fingers to my throat. Their tips tread delicately around my wide choker. Melancholy infiltrated his features as he traced the grooves on the hard material.

He then dropped his hand and gently took both of mine in his grasps, lifting them horizontal in the space between us. His reach extended, climbing up my brown gloves until his thumbs could move decisively slowly over my covered wrists. "I haven't forgotten your bruises so quickly." He winced, as if his thoughts had brought him pain. "Bruises I gave you."

"Anakin… you got carried away in the moment with an untested prosthetic. It could have happened to anyone." I freed a hand to rest it above his heart. I added an invisible bruise there every time he thought I was putting my duties as a Senator in front of him. Unfortunately, it was time to add one more. "Let's pull out of lightspeed and do a comms check. Then you can practice with your arm while I find us a spaceport." Desire animated my blood. I stepped closer, drawn towards my addiction. "After we satisfy our appetite for food…" I lifted my heels to bring my lips near his, but didn't touch, "we can turn our attention to other cravings. And I can spend the rest of the flight showing you how much I trust you… How much I love you."

Is there anything more wonderful than to look in the face of the person you love and see all the emotions you yourself feel broadcast back? The carnal and the loving, mixed together in a daydream's brew. People assume love potions are a drink which can be tasted on the tongue. They're not. They're an elixir in the eyes; a two-way magic which cannot be bought, borrowed, or fabricated.

Anakin's eyes had room yet for one more ingredient— mischievousness. "Or you can come sit at the table with me and be my source of motivation." His hands swam up and down my back in languid laps. He dipped his head, bringing our lips so close I could feel his warm breath as he spoke. "I am past craving food. I vote for skipping to the last half of your proposal." Our noses slid against each other's. His hushed whisper filled my ears. "All those in favor… say Aye…"

{Amidala, will you do our people the great honor of serving as Senator?}

I respect and am fond of Queen Jamillia. But the memory from years ago crawled out of my subconscious and behind my heavy lids like a sea monster from our planet's core.

Frustration birthed unholy sound as a groan traveled up my throat. I used my lingering hand placement on Anakin's chest to push him backwards. Mildly, but enough to unsettle his weight and make him take a single step in the direction of the controls. "Comms… check… first." As he let the momentum carry him away from me, his face contorted into hurt disappointment. I could almost see the latest bruise forming.

His tone turned loud and aloof as he turned and stalked towards the piloting chairs. "I'll do the honors, Senator."

The golden hand gripped the lever in the center of the console. Without ceremony, he pulled it back. The engines let out a subtle whine as they winded down. White and blue beams shrunk to an obliterating stop, allowing the near-pitch black of space to usurp the view. Distant stars were once again tiny dots, winking at us from across the great distances. We'd given up the godlike power to outrun our mortal problems.

We held our breaths, waiting. Neither of us moved. Anakin seemed to be staring straight ahead. My eyes were focused on the left-most screen. If any transmissions came in, the alert would signal us there with the sudden emergence of a blinking red light.

Seconds ticked by. Nothing. Instead of feeling relieved, the manic urge to call out to him grew stronger as each moment passed. My body yearned for his. My heart was beginning to scream. His hand was yet on the lightspeed bar.

I was wrong. I was wrong! Punch it! Let's leave everything behind while we still can—

The red light was alive. It flashed off and on benignly, as if by doing so it hadn't just sucked the air from the room.

Anakin turned slowly and looked at me over his shoulder. His stare held no judgment, only heartbreak. Then he seemed to drag himself port side till he stood in front of the comms screen. My own legs refused to work.

The index finger which had been cupping my cheek just seconds ago now touched the screen, bringing up the preliminary information.

"Two messages."

I licked my suddenly dry lips. "Same sender?" As if it made a difference.

"No." He shook his head gravely. "One has your official designation."

Dormé or Typho, hailing from my apartment or my office, where it was still early evening. My staff wasn't due to depart the capital until after nightfall. That there was a transmission from them meant only one thing— one of my fears had been realized. Something was happening or had happened which required the presence of the real Senator Amidala.

Anakin's jaw tightened. He took a deep breath, which seemed to do nothing to relax him. "The other has the signature of Obi-Wan's starfighter."

Our worst-case scenarios combined.

The magnetic pull between our bodies finally propelled my legs into motion. Coming to him, I wrapped my arm around Anakin's left elbow and reclined my head below his shoulder. Despite our height difference, our sides melded together seamlessly.

I felt the pressure as he planted a kiss in my hair. "We could do it, you know. We could pretend we didn't see them until we landed on Naboo."

"There are enough lies in our future, Ani. We should make the effort to be honest where we can."

A silence languished, but he didn't push back against my truth. Not directly. "It won't always be this way." He leaned his weight into mine. "Things will get easier when I'm not a Padawan anymore. I'll be able to come and go as I please without Obi-Wan looking over my shoulder."

I nuzzled my forehead against him. "What are you waiting for then?" I tugged on his limb like a toddler. "Hurry up and get Knighted already."

Another anointed my head with another touch from his lips, more tenderly this time. "Yes, milady. If you insist."

I went back to passively resting my head on his arm. Together, we stared at the red notification that had waited patiently through our stalling. One of our stomachs growled. Neither of us had the humor to acknowledge it.

Rightfully so, Anakin didn't let me forget that one of the transmissions was from my office. "It will also be easier when there isn't a civil war for you to single-handedly suture."

"Whatever will we do with ourselves to fill all that time?" I'd left the question open to obvious, adult suggestion by my delivery.

It was a testament to Anakin's petulant mood that he ignored the bait. Deadpanned, he answered, "Be married. Live our lives."

"Come on." I found his hand and squeezed it. "We need to see what's in those transmissions."

"Oooh, I already know what's in one of them." He broke away and moved around the protruding middle console. "'Anakin! What were you thinking? How many times have I told you not to breathe without consulting me first!'" Anakin's impression of Obi-Wan was marginally better than his impression of Yoda, though it was much more theatrical. "Ugggghhh." He sunk into the co-pilot's chair. The broody teenager was back. "Shall we count how many times he's going to remind me I'm young; a Padawan; an apprentice?"

I was alone with the flashing red light. I stared back at it mutely. As Anakin continued to complain over the intrusions of mentorship, my own focus was a growing concern for the reason behind the transmissions. What if something awful had happened? What if we'd lost a vital solar system to the Separatists? A list of sectors crucial for textile or agricultural exports ran through my mind, ones the Republic couldn't afford to lose. The last time I pushed aside my duties in favor of living in the moment with Anakin, an Army of the Republic emerged, and I spent days trying to get caught up with the actions of the Senate. What could have happened now?

Was I clear enough this morning, when I practically told Jar Jar not to so much as look at a Senate pod for the next twenty-four hours?

I'm not just a bride. I'm a Senator. I mustn't forget that.

"It's a shame." I glanced behind me to watch Anakin rest his artificial hand low on his rib cage. The bones buried below his touch were cracked barely a week ago. "I was just starting to look forward to shaak ribs again. Gods, I could almost smell them."

I tried to reign in my catastrophizing. "We don't know for sure that we'll have to—"

"Padmé." A long finger pointed at the screen I stood next to. He looked like he'd scraped the bottom of his barrel of optimism and come up with nothing. "There's no way one or both of those messages aren't sending us back. Let's just get it over with." He let out another heavy sigh. I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to remind him the needs of trillions outweighed the needs of two. I lost all heart to lecture when he spoke again, his voice quieter and sadder this time. "At least we bought ourselves a few hours of privacy."

I positioned myself in the pilot's chair. Stretching forward, my fingers hesitated just above the display button. We'd seen both Obi-Wan and Mace Windu's blue forms there a lifetime ago.

"The message from my office first?"

Anakin shrugged and looked away. Now he was retreating into apathy to cope with whatever was coming. At the moment, I was too despondent to draw him back. Taking a deep breath first, I pushed the button. Dormé's form appeared in front of us.

"Hello, milady. We have not left Coruscant yet. There are two things you should know."

I reached across the console and extended my open palm. Anakin took hold of the grasp loosely until I squeezed. After that, he held to me even more tightly than I to him.

"First, if he hasn't reached you already, Master Kenobi is seeking Anakin. He was not, um, pleased when Jar Jar informed him where he is and where you're going."

Jar Jar. Of all the possible emissaries for the news…

"The other item is already resolved, but I thought you would like to know since it came from the Supreme Chancellor's office."

My eyes rose as a jolt of hope went through me. Already resolved? That… didn't sound like something which would force us to turn the ship around.

I let myself forget for a moment that a displeased Master Kenobi did.

"The Republic's army will be departing for war missions soon; the dispatchment is being organized into a public event. Chancellor Palpatine extended an invitation for you to be at his side during this send-off ceremony. There will be a banquet with the ships' officers; a podium for speeches. He's seeking a show of unity from the Loyalist Committee and the pro-war factions." Smart optics, Palpatine. "I received the impression from Mas Amedda that the Chancellor has chosen only a handful of people to stand on the balcony with him when the cruisers take flight. I informed him you'd already left the capital." Dormé paused, her delicate features rearranging into hesitation. "It was asked if Anakin is still escorting you. I hope it was alright to answer truthfully, milady. I thought all this was something you'd like to be aware of before your arrival in Theed." After a beat, she added, "It seems they'll now ask Bail Organa in your stead."

Poor Prestor. He was as against the war as I. If he was still on-planet, which I was almost sure he was, there was little to zero chance he could turn such an "invitation" down without appearing to snub the Chancellor. Being present for a military photo-op like this sounded like something he'd rather miss. I was certainly glad to.

"That's all, milady." A more personality-infused smile rocketed the corners of her lips up. "I hope you are enjoying your trip."

The extended grin lingered, then the transmission fizzled out.

That's it?

I let out a whoosh of air and looked at Anakin. He was smiling. "Subtle as a reek, that one."

"Reek?"

"My dancing partner on Geonosis."

"Ahh," I nodded, finally putting a name to the red beast in the arena. "The comparison fits." My grin grew again, becoming joyous and conspiratorial. "No summons."

"No summons." He released a smile worth crossing the galaxy to see. "The government has lasted five hours without Senator Amidala."

As relief crested, awareness returned that there was still one transmission left to go. We knew the sender, and now we knew his mood. Dread filled in the cracks where gaiety had too briefly lived.

I was still holding Anakin's hand when I leaned forward and pushed the button for the next message. My mouth was too arid for me to force out words of hope.

Limited in memory, as most human beings are, I cannot remember my initial meeting with everyone I've met. But I will never forget the first time Obi-Wan Kenobi and I crossed paths. It was my first encounter with Qui-Gon and Jar Jar as well, and my first time seeing lightsabers ignited and in action. The trio had leaped— or fallen, in the Gungan's case— from a second-story walkway in front of our arrested entourage. No one was caught more by surprise than the Trade Federation battle droids escorting us through the street. I'd been in disguise as a handmaiden, and the eyes of our rescuers swept right over me to focus on Sabé, leaving the true Queen free to openly study them.

In that way, the first time I ever met Kenobi, he looked centered, if stern. All business. In control. A meeting like that doesn't leave time or atmosphere for smiles and handshakes.

An older version of that man flickered to life before us. All business. No indulgence of pleasantries. He was standing with his arms folded over his chest. His lips were pinned into a straight line— but not for long.

"Anakin! I have just been informed by Jar Jar Binks that you are on your way to Naboo. What are you thinking? Must I even expend the breath to tell you how presumptive it was to go off-planet without my permission?" In the corner of my eye, I saw Ani shrink backwards into his seat. "I am ordering you to contact me the minute you see this transmission. For your sake, I hope it is before you reach your destination, my young Padawan."

There was an abundance of extra stress on the last word. The image disappeared. We both stared at the holoplatform in silence.

I felt like there was a rock in my throat as I swallowed past it. When I turned to look at the man beside me, he was burning holes into the cockpit's floor with his concentrated gaze.

Eventually, he swallowed and acknowledged my stare with a fleeting flicker in my direction. "He's going to order us to split up."

I pulsed my grip around his hand in response. "No, Ani—"

"—Yes, he is."

"—maybe he won't, not if he knows that doing so will leave me traveling on alone." As plenty capable as I was of navigating the ship by myself, I knew Master Kenobi would never put a threat-prone Senator in jeopardy like that.

"If we tell him we are the only passengers on this flight, his suspicions will only explode. Along with his head." He drew a circle on the back of my hand. More softly and seriously, he added, "I told him I'd leave the Order for you. Those were not words my master will soon forget."

He was right, but, "What makes you think he doesn't already know we're the only two aboard?"

"He would've said something, and besides— both messages indicated he's only spoken with Jar Jar. I didn't tell Jar Jar we were flying alone. Did you?"

"No."

The Gungan had come to my apartment that morning and stayed long enough for conversation before announcing he'd be back after lunch. We hadn't hidden the fact we were departing in advance "for security purposes," but that was a far cry from Jar Jar assuming just Anakin and I were leaving. He probably surmised I was taking other members of my guard along with us, as any Senator who wasn't trying to conceal her secret romance would.

I sighed, contemplative, and leaned back into my seat. "So, it's a good thing he talked to Jar Jar, because he's less likely to know we're traveling alone. …But it's a bad thing that he doesn't know we're traveling alone, because he'll think I'm protected enough for you to take your leave."

"Believe me, I can tell you exactly how this holocall will go." Anakin released our hold and crossed his arms. "He will request that we stop at the nearest spaceport. He'll tell me to find transport back to the capital. There, I'll be greeted with a tirade masked by the appearance of lecture." He threw me a disgruntled look. "He's mad. He was holding back in his transmission. My master is waiting to tell me how disappointing and arrogant I truly am until he can enlighten me in pers—"

The red light began blinking again. We knew because, this time, it was accompanied with an audible pinging. It was a soft and polite sound, but it may as well as roared at us with how it stopped the speaker dead in his tracks.

Nearest to the port side screen, I swiveled my chair quickly to read the incoming signature. Then I looked back to Anakin, my jaw slack. "It's Obi-Wan."

We stared at each other, stricken, for two terrible seconds.

Then Anakin suddenly lept out of his chair like it had caught fire. Within a moment, he had circled the console between us and was pulling me to a stand. "You need to leave." Hands flew to cradle my face. He swooped down and unleashed a full, desperate kiss on me before abruptly pulling back. "I can't do this if you're in the room."

"But if I just—"

"If this goes how I think it will, I'll take one look at you and announce I'm leaving the Order. Is that what you want?" I recalled how I'd exiled him to the other side of my apartment that very morning, just so I could focus on my holoconference with the Chancellor and Bail Organa. The stakes now felt so much higher. Anakin— already teetering on seeming frantic— didn't hide his emotions behind a mask nor control his temper near as well as me. When I gave him a brisk nod, he touched my forehead with his for a moment, then commanded, "Go."

I made it as far as the door without looking back. At the last second, I turned just in time to see Anakin positioning himself in front of the holoplatform. His frame was rigid with tension, like a wild creature anticipating an attack.

He said he needed me to leave the room. He hadn't said anything about staying close enough to eavesdrop. I took one obedient step into the perpendicular hallway before leaning against the black and white wall. Going any further would feel like physical dismemberment. I stared at the polished floor, but my very spirit may as well have floated through the dividing wall and back into the cockpit.

"Stay calm, Ani. Breathe."

He wasn't amused, but he allowed my sleuthing with a firm, "Stay quiet."

A beat, and then the deep, clipped accent echoed from around the corner.

"Anakin."

"Master." The pause lasted long enough to send anxiety scratching up my arms. "Did everything go smoothly on Tatoon?"

"It's resolved; that is the success I will take from it. I arrived at the Temple not long ago. I was just about to send you another— Why have you pulled out of lightspeed? I was under the impression it has only been a few hours since you left the capital."

"Senator Amidala. She doesn't like to go very long without checking for updates. She's catching up on news as we speak."

"Yes, there is an abundance of news going around today."

An exhalation I'm guessing he couldn't resist dragging out. "I'm deeply sorry you had to hear about our departure from the Senator's staff, Master." There was a pause. "From… Jar Jar."

You'll have to try harder than that to sound apologetic.

"I did not appreciate hearing it from a third party, Anakin. I had every intention of demanding your immediate return."

"…Had?"

"Well, then I learned of the Chancellor's involvement, of course. Jar Jar left out the part about you following his directive. Had I known, I wouldn't have thought your actions so heedless."

"Of… course."

What does the Chancellor have to do with this?

The tone from Obi-Wan's prior message was completely absent. Words floated through the transmission devoid of indignation. "I will admit, it is the prudent course of action. I heard Nute Gunray myself. He wasn't mincing words when declared he wants the Senator's head on his desk."

While chilling, this gruesome anecdote wasn't necessarily a surprise to me. I feared my dedicated protector's reaction to it, however. There was a lengthy silence. My ears strained to hear the most minute of sound.

I could practically hear his fists clenching. "He said that?"

"If I remember correctly, which I believe I do, it was a condition for him signing the treaty. But clearly the Viceroy's lot was thrown in with Dooku's when the battle began— head or not. It would be easy to presume Gunray's too preoccupied right now to hire another assassin, but he's quite dedicated to this grudge he has towards her. And he'll be furious that she escaped him on Geonosis. It's not difficult to see why the Chancellor wants to be cautious."

{Do it for me, milady, please. The thought of losing you… is unbearable.}

"So do I," Anakin dared, agreeing with a plan I don't think fully grasped yet either. "This isn't the time to take her safety for granted."

"Yes, well, Palpatine seems as keen to protect her as the Viceroy is to destroy her. Check her lodgings carefully, my young apprentice. They will not be as secure as a fortified apartment at the top of a skyscraper, and we saw what happened there."

"Yes, Master. I will."

"Good. We can't keep her protected from Nute Gunray forever, but you can make sure he hasn't laid a trap for her arrival home. And no baiting this time."

I was putting context clues together in rapid succession, but solved riddles only led to more questions. The Chancellor seemed to have requested that Anakin escort me to Naboo. But when? Why? Hadn't an invitation just come from him in the hours since we'd left for the army's dispatchment ceremony?

As usual, Anakin was apparently dwelling less on "how is this happening?" and more on "what level of audacity can I get away with?"

"I'd like to stay by the Senator's side for a few days, Master, if that is alright. I want to be certain the imminent threat window has passed."

I held my breath in my seized lungs, praying Anakin hadn't gone too far.

The surprise in Obi-Wan's voice was contagious. "Was that not the very directive passed down from the Chancellor? That was how I understood it."

What?!

"O-of course. I only wanted to make sure you are at ease with it, Master."

As the new pause extended, I had to fight the urge not to peek around the corner.

"I recently learned about your incident on The Credence. I hadn't been aware… The arm malfunctioned?"

Had I missed something? What prompted this segue?

"Yes…" Anakin's timbre lowered. "There was catastrophic failure. The pain was excruciating. I was dislodging the prosthetic before I knew what I was doing."

I tried not to think of the cabin smeared by blood. The giveaway dent in the table. The reality that the excruciating pain in his body started not in his arm— but in his heart.

"I just saw your medical report. It said you would have died from blood loss had you not been rushed into surgery so quickly."

"You aren't rid of me yet, Master. I'd wait a bit before you start the search for a new Padawan."

"I am happy with the one I have." According to Anakin's testimonials, that was an uncharacteristic display of warm appreciation. "Anakin, we must keep an open mind and be malleable to the whims of the Force, but I do not believe this war will be over as soon as initially thought. ...I know these last weeks have been hard for you. There were the nightmares about your mother, the complexities of your particular first assignment, and the difficulties you've faced with the loss of your dueling arm. Even a Jedi can need time to find his balance again."

{Everyone who saw me thought I was still depressed over the arm. I was walking the halls of the Temple like a ghost.}

I had a sneaking suspicion Obi-Wan had been informed of his Padawan's state in the previous two days. Kenobi also thought I'd broken Ani's heart and publicly run into another man's arms.

"What are you saying, Master?"

"You've always been very fond of Naboo; of its nature. If you are diligent, you may find dual purpose in the ending of your assignment. Use this time to commune with the Force. Meditate. Make peace with your arm. Learn to trust it."

"I'm trying, Master. It maimed something irreplaceable last night. Believe me, I am prioritizing my kinship with the arm above all else."

He has the untouched bed in the back of the ship to prove it.

"Does that include putting aside your… intoxication?"

I frowned, confused, sensing there was pointed double-meaning in Obi-Wan's words. Anakin's reply sounded only half-convincing. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"I saw an image of her and that Jurue fellow."

I leaned my head back against the wall and shut my eyes, but my ears remained steadfast.

"I am aware of it."

Reign in that irritation, my love.

"Ghastly tabloids. I saw the eyesore as I was flying in. The graphic was as large as a building."

"They're everywhere. The offenders should be investigated and shut down."

Ani, be careful. There was far too much emotion in that remark.

"Oh, don't put me in the position to defend tabloid slingers, Anakin. You know I don't spare any esteem for them. But we have freedom of the press for a reason, and Senator Amidala is a very public figure—"

"I meant it in the interest of her privacy, Master. Her commitment to duty doesn't mean her personal life is anyone's business, and certainly not for profit. Padmé is dedicated to her work. She gives enough. What right do the masses think they have to anything more?!"

…Gudarra…

A tenuously long silence ensued. I didn't realize my how hard my heart was pounding until I heard its thunder in my ears.

Eventually, I discerned a noise that sounded like Master Kenobi clearing his throat. "I haven't spoken of your outburst on the gunship to anyone, Anakin. Things get said in the heat of battle. We will leave it at that. I would rather restore my faith in you because you have let go of your attachment, and not because the object of it is unavailable. Is the Senator's gentleman traveling in her entourage?"

That confirmed it. Obi-Wan didn't know we were the only passengers. For the most ridiculous of half-seconds, I actually wished we'd invited Jurue along, just for this conversation to be salvaged neatly. But of course—

"Yes, he's here." Anakin! "The couple was just discussing where they would like to stop for a meal."

Mother of moons, has he lost his mind?

"Alright then. And fine, but make sure to choose where you touch down wisely."

"Yes, Master."

"Don't draw any attention."

"Yes, Master."

"And don't stop anywhere with a dense population. You want to avoid her being recognized."

"I agree, Master."

"And try not to—"

"Would you like to recommend any specific places, Master?"

"I am not your travel coordinator, Anakin. You can figure that out on your own."

"Yes, Master. And thank you for your guidance."

"And Anakin?"

"Yes, Master?"

"I'll be checking your tracking signal frequently. When you reach Naboo, stay there until you are called back to Coruscant. The Chancellor indicated his wish that she remains protected for at least a week. You can endure—"

"A week? My assignment is to an extend by a week?"

"You'll be back to more exciting missions in no time. If you disobey me and start planet-hopping, I'll have you assisting Master Yoda's younglings classes for a month."

"You have nothing to worry about. I promise."

"Use this time wisely, Anakin. May the Force be with you."

"And with you, Master."

I tried waiting for the all clear. I made it two seconds before my body was already maneuvering me around the corner. The moment my eyes cleared the wall, they locked onto Anakin's turning head. Whatever irritation he'd felt seconds ago was gone. Radiant joy was beaming from him.

"Ani?"

"Did that just happen? Did that… did… You heard that too, right?"

We gaped at each other in disbelief as the full impact of their conversation began to sink in. Obi-Wan knew where we were going, and it was alright. Anakin not only had permission to stay on Naboo— he was under orders to.

I don't know who broke our distance first, but one second we were shocked statues, and the next we were two young lovers rushing into each other's arms. Anakin picked me up and spun me right in the center of the cockpit. I giggled and shrieked at him to mind the low ceiling. When he put me down, it was almost difficult to kiss from our epic smiles and small, celebratory laughs getting in the way.

"I can't believe…" I shook my head as I struggled to grasp this invaluable fortune. "I can't…"

"It's because this is destiny." Anakin stroked my cheeks and chin. "The Force is on our side. I can feel it."

"A week," I breathed, before rising to plant my lips on his. I slid my fingers around his neck and interlocked them behind the nape. "Oh, Anakin. This is wonderful."

He nodded, but his features flickered into a serious frown. "He's right about not underestimating Nute Gunray. When we land, we ought to—"

"What were you thinking saying Jurue is here? You know that's easily disproven."

Totally unabashed, Anakin cocked his head back and grinned. "Is it? We took a covert flight out. There's no ship manifest." One of his hands encircled me to rub my back. "He won't find out. You did too good of a job selling your act on The Credence. And that tabloid image? Nah." A belly-laugh filled the air. "You heard him. He thinks I'll have to endure being on Naboo with you and your lover. Little does he know your husband has the honor of—"

"But Palpatine— telling the Jedi, when he already knew—"

"I know, I didn't think I could like the Chancellor even more than I already do."

"But it doesn't make any sense. Dormé informed his aide that I'd already left with you. Why would he send word that he wants you to escort me home when he already knew that was happening?"

"I do not know, and I do not care." I got one last look at the glorious expression on Anakin's face before he took me in both of his arms again, pressing our full bodies together. His mouth was just above my ear when he insisted, "There was an error of communication somewhere in the last hour. Who cares how? This is a gift, Padmé— a wedding gift from the galaxy to us." I wrapped my arms around and up his back, breathing in his indifference towards the hows and whys. Within seconds, my concerns and curiosities were hazy memories of the past. I was so tucked into him, I could feel the energy in his body shift. "And… it bought us time."

I pulled back to read his face. It was brimming with that familiar mischievousness and excitement. This was Anakin the jester, not Anakin the seducer. "Time for what?"

To my great surprise, he was moving out of my arms and rushing towards the starboard side console, where we'd looked at maps of solar systems previously. He searched with frenetic air, a growing smile peeling back his lips.

"Here." His strong tone pointed at a small orb on the screen as much as his extended finger did. "Vox Montoa."

"Vox Montoa…" I repeated slowly. "I've never heard of it."

"Maybe you've heard of its native residents… Slythe?"

"Slythe?" I paused, running the name through the vast roster of cultures and species in my head. "Should I have heard of them?"

"Likely not. They try to have as little to do with outside politics as possible."

"Are they hostile?"

He was practically jittery with his elation. "Far from it. They're such pacifists, they make Naboo look like warmongers. They're not a very intelligent species— not that I'm holding it against them. It's a fact. They're big into living simply— good food, good drink, and good music. Not much else. And," He stood straighter and winked at me. "They're notorious for being unable to tell beings of other species apart."

Faint recollections triggered. "I have heard of them. They can survive out of water, but they're mostly designed to live in their lakes. Their eyesight on land is blurry at best."

"Obi-Wan and I sat down with an informant for a crime syndicate a few months ago. He demanded we meet him on Vox Montoa. He knew Slythe are terrible at distinguishing faces. Even genders." A wickedly wide smile stretched Anakin's mouth. "The bartender thought Obi-Wan was a woman."

"Really?"

He didn't even try to hide his snicker. "It was the hair." Then Anakin did a motion with his hands around his head, like he was petting down a mullet.

I shook my head at him but grinned back anyways. "I remember where I heard of them. They sent a representative to the Senate a few years ago. The poor Slythe walked up an intern. She thought she was talking to Chancellor Valorum the whole time. The aide went along with it. They were shaking hands over erecting a statute by the time the representative was told the truth." My smile was gone. This wasn't a funny story after all. "The Slythes were so embarrassed, they haven't sent anyone to Coruscant since."

Anakin stepped forward and took my hands in his. "I still want to marry you as quickly as possible. But we have days now. We don't have to rush to Naboo like our nuptials depend on it." He interlocked our fingers. "But once we get there, we'll have to isolate ourselves again just to be free to be us— to be anything more than Jedi and Senator. We have a chance to stop somewhere and be a regular couple for a few hours, without having to hide it."

"What are you saying?"

"Padmé, my love. My soon-to-be wife." One cheek pulled back into that signature, charming half-smile I couldn't refuse. "Will you go on a date with me?"