The four strolled back along the waterfront and onto the main promenade where the bustle of colourful citizens went about their business. Shops and trade stands were doing roaring custom even at this time of the morning. Known for their cordiality, the Chandrilians certainly exuded a serene and happy atmosphere, the cordial feelings spreading between the four of them or, at least, three of them. Bel Asarra hung back from them. Her official role as royal bodyguard coming to the fore as she eyed everyone in turn with equal suspicion.

Pax and Leia talked, as they walked back towards the central government complex, reminiscing. Leia smiled and, occasionally, even laughed, and all the time remained polite and genteel, but she didn't let go of Han's arm and tried not to touch her friend. Han wondered if it had anything to do with the vision she had experienced the day before or whether she was simply making it clear to the Duke that he wasn't to make advances. Either way, Pax remained civil and proper and, if it hadn't been for Han's knowledge of Leia's intuition, he might even have liked the guy under other circumstances.

A toned down replica of the architecture of the government building was reflected in the shops on the promenade; white, bone-like arched frames supported white plaster walls, but the buildings here were smaller and more understated. It was easy to see why it had been the first choice for the beginnings of the New Republic. Its idyllic culture had remained mostly undamaged by the Empire's regime. A mono-rail carried a whisper quiet shuttle above their heads. Exciting and inviting smells permeated out into the street from food and spice traders and a variety of clothes, jewellery and other finery was on offer from others. All the stalls were clean and opulent, an indication of Chandrila's flourishing economy.

Leia paused by a stall selling flowers and exotic vegetation, some of which Han thought looked strangely animalistic. She admired a particularly bright blue flower, holding it gently and raising it to her face to breath in it's scent. Han reached into his pocket and grabbed a few credits. Giving them to the stall-holder, he took the flower out of it's watery container and handed it to her. She smiled broadly.

"Thank you," she said lovingly, her gaze lingering on him perhaps slightly longer than was proper considering they had company.

"You must tell me how you two met," Pax addressed them both, observing their brief romantic exchange and showing genuinely friendly interest.

"Han and Luke happened to be there when I was in a particularly sticky situation. They saved my life," Leia explained, leaving out the detail. Han smiled at her thinly, remembering that she was scheduled for execution when they had stumbled upon her on the Death Star.

"Those of us who survived Alderaan are grateful to you, General." The Duke looked at Han respectfully.

"I seem to recall she did most of the saving," Han countered.

"And I don't remember being particularly grateful at the time," Leia chuckled, recalling a time when she demonstrated more annoyance at Han than she did now. "We've been through a lot together since then." She smiled affectionately at him. He squeezed her hand. Looking at her now, flower in hand, sunlight glowing on the edges of her hair, he thought of her beauty, her fierceness, her kindness. He thought of the time before he had known her and the times since then that he had almost lost her. A decision began to embed itself in his head that he resolved to talk to her about.

"Isn't it time we were getting back?" he encouraged. "You need to prepare for tomorrow and I need to find Chewie and check up on the Falcon."

"Yes, of course," Leia agreed. "If you'll excuse us, Pax? We will see you at the ceremony tomorrow."

"I will look forward to it, Leia." and to Han, "General." He made a shallow, polite bow. As they walked away, Han whispered.

"No one has bowed to me before. Is this what I should expect dating a Princess?"

"Don't get delusions of grandeur, Flyboy," she teased.

#

The Royal Suite wasn't the quiet haven they had hoped for when they returned to it. 3PO was first at the door to greet them, demonstrative as usual.

"Your Highness, you have a visitor," he announced "and these arrived for you." He gestured into the lounge area which was covered with ornate bouquets of flowers.

Rising from her seated position on one of the sofas, Mon Mothma approached them.

"Leia. I am so glad you have chosen to take part in the ceremony," she almost gushed. "I have begun the organisation and all will be ready for mid-morning tomorrow."

"Thank you," Leia said, reaching for, and opening, a card that had come with the flowers. She tried not to sound too sarcastic. Mon Mothma was kind and was just trying to do what she thought was required. It was gracious of her to host the whole thing. She read the contents of the card and turned to Han, holding the card up between two fingers and rolling her eyes just slightly.

"Pax," she said dryly. He raised his chin in acknowledgement and moved through the room to a sofa under one of the windows, removed his jacket and sat down, legs outstretched. Mon Mothma looked like she was about to begin her diplomatic manoeuvrings and he liked to tune out in such circumstances.

Indeed, Mon Mothma moved towards Leia and put her hands on her upper arms in a motherly fashion.

"It will be a wonderful opportunity for the New Republic to show it cares about its member's happiness as well as the rule of government. A ceremony like this one suits your heritage and you are so good at it."

So that's it. Leia thought to herself. She was to be a propaganda show-piece, a pawn in the government's social easing programme. "It's wonderful to see you participating in more punctilious events," Mon continued.  Han didn't even know what 'punctilious' meant and Leia's face looked a little pinched. Mon Mothma ignored her expression. "Perhaps it's time to re-visit our conversations concerning your permanent government position." Now it was Han's turn to stiffen. He decided to close his eyes and simply listen in case he was tempted to express himself either facially or even verbally.

"I don't know..." Leia began.

"A suitable apartment has been set aside for you whenever you are ready. The New Republic would value your experience, Leia," Mon Mothma interrupted her, enthusiastic as if it was an exciting plan.

With his eyes shut Han wasn't able to see Leia's expression, similar to a wamp rat caught in speeder headlights. Mon Mothma had indeed had several conversations with her during previous visits, offering her a permanent seat on the New Republic Council. She was keen for Leia to accept her terms - had been very persuasive. A generous income and comfortable living conditions were tempting, and something she ought to consider once her current role was up and, it was true, she did have the experience. She also clearly saw the value in fighting her cause in the political arena, and the main aim of her work with the Rebellion was to ultimately set up a fair and stable government. However, there was far too much clearing up to do and her mind wasn't in the right place. She was still arguing with herself over the sense in taking up the position full time. After a while, she would relax into it, become tied up in the political in-fighting, perhaps become blinkered and not be so quick to spot dangers as she was now. The last thing she wanted was to become an entrenched bureaucrat. She certainly hadn't given Mon Mothma an indication that she would accept her offer, and assigning her living quarters already was a little presumptuous. She needed more time. So far she had diplomatically managed to dodge the final decision. She certainly didn't want to talk about it now in front of Han. That was a conversation she wanted to have with him alone.

"If you don't mind, Chancellor, I would rather discuss it at some other time. My mind is so full of tomorrow's ceremony," Leia dodged again. It wasn't just the ceremony that occupied her mind. It was the intrigue over the document, the children, the Kyber crystal. She could do with being able to sleep regularly for more than two hours at a time. Mon Mothma smiled reluctantly.

"Of course. I will send some assistants to you in the morning to help you dress."

"Oh no, that won't be necessary," Leia insisted. She couldn't think of anything worse.

"It's already arranged." Mon Mothma was matter of fact. She left them alone.

Leia came to sit by Han.

"And so it begins," she said quietly, almost to herself. She put her hand on his. He withdrew his hand sharply and stood up, turning away from her and running it thoughtfully through his hair.

"What is it?" she frowned, getting a sinking feeling in her stomach. He looked angrily at her, gesturing in the direction of the door, through which Mon Mothma had taken her leave, the other hand on his hip.

"You're thinking of taking up a permanent government seat?" He couldn't believe what he had just heard. Leia shook her head vigorously.

"No. I..."

"You had the conversation with her. She just said as much."

"Yes, but..."

"So you intended to take up her offer and move here permanently." He made a statement rather than ask a question. He was seething. "You've got an apartment waiting?" He didn't seem interested in the answer and turned away from her expression of shock. "When were you going to tell me? When you had moved your stuff in and signed the contract?" She was still shaking her head. She got up to approach him.

"I was going to tell you. But I haven't..." He dismissed her with a derisive noise and an angry wave of his hand.

"I thought we'd talked about this. I thought I understood what you wanted, but you discuss nothing with me. I forget sometimes you are a politician and only concerned with your own agenda," he spat.

Leia felt a surge of emotion at this last statement. She was, indeed, a politician, although Han was using the word in a derogatory fashion, but she had always been forthright and never felt that she had a hidden agenda. Despite the fact he had a reckless disregard for the rules by which she lived, she had fallen in love with him, shared everything with him, thought he felt the same way. He was the only one who could reach deep down inside her and tug at her heart, hurting her like he was now.

She fought back tears of pain and anger. It was obvious he wasn't going to listen to an explanation and, even if he did, he wasn't in the mood to believe her. She tried to make sense of what was happening. After such a wonderful morning he had become insulting, accusing her of being underhand. What had sparked this outburst?

"I have never lied to you," she defended, raising her voice crossly. How could he think, after all she'd told him that she would jump at a permanent position so readily without considering him?

"No," he admitted matter of factly, leaning forward so that his face was uncomfortably close to hers. "You just conveniently leave stuff out," he fumed. She bit her bottom lip in an attempt at control and leant her head back to create space. "I give up." He held his hands up in resignation for a few seconds then he grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she demanded. Han looked back at her. She was a little flushed, her lips pressed tightly together. She looked like she was fighting an internal struggle with herself to control her emotions, and she wasn't winning.

"I don't know." He spread his arms, jacket in hand. "Maybe somewhere my opinion counts." He left, slamming the door.

A tear escaped and Leia quickly brushed it away angrily with the back of her hand. She wished Mon Mothma could stop involving her in her own political meddling.