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"He was a friend to my father," Leia clarified. "But my father is dead."

"I am and always will be his friend," Fess said steadily.

He was a man of soft, rounded edges, with a belly bulging over his belt and the makings of a double chin. His fingers were stubby, his nose bulbous, and his mind seemed to be as fuzzy as the back of his neck. Leia had never been sure of his age—most of the time, he looked far older than her father, weathered and weak. But there had been moments when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught him moving with a surprising grace, the years falling away from his suddenly youthful face.

He lacked every quality her father had possessed: nobility, courage, wisdom. Though he called himself a botanist, his main skill seemed to be currying favor. He grinned and nodded with greasy ease, laughing heartily at the weakest joke, complimenting the gaudiest gown. And yet Bail Organa had spoken of him privately with respect.

"How are you?" Fess asked.

"How do you think?" Leia snapped. Then she steadied herself. As a princess and a senator she'd grown adept at dealing gracefully with her enemies. And Fess wasn't an enemy, he was just a harmless parasite. "I'm fine," she said, more politely. "Thank you for helping us with those boys."

Fess shook his head. "I can't stand to see children forced to make a life for themselves on the streets."

He didn't sound like the Fess she remembered—but then, they were all different now.

"We should be going," Leia said.

"I'll come along," Fess suggested. "It's dangerous out here alone."

"I'm hardly alone," she said, glancing at Chewbacca, who towered over the humans by several feet. The Wookiee rumbled in agreement.

"I know this city," Fess argued. "I can be of assistance. Perhaps more than you know."

Han snorted. "What is it with you old men and your delusions of grandeur?" he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"You just reminded me of someone else who thought we could use his help," Han said. "Didn't end so well for him."

"Perhaps he lacked my skill set," Fess said mildly. "But—as you wish."

As they said their goodbyes, Leia wondered if she would ever see him again, and if she cared.

She needn't have bothered. They were only a few blocks away when Han snuck a glance over his shoulder. "That's one stubborn old man."

Leia stopped short. "He's following us?" She whirled around, but the streets were empty.

"Ducks into an alley every time I look back," Han said. "Sneaky fellow, but not sneaky enough. Guess he doesn't know who he's dealing with, does he, Chewie?"

The Wookiee barked a yes.

"You want me to run him off?" Han asked.

Leia shook her head, and began walking again. "If he wants to follow us so badly, let him."

From everything she knew about Fess, she suspected his offers of assistance were as empty as his head. Still, there was a strange reassurance in knowing he was following her.

As if some childish, irrational part of her believed what her father had once told her that no harm would come to her as long as Fess Ilee was alive.

CHAPTER EIGHT

" Fesssss, " she hisses, laughing at the sound of it, wet and slimy like a Kowakian monkey-lizard. And that is what he looks like, she decides, with his greasy smile and those tufts of hair growing out of his big ears. " Fess the monkey-lizard. "

" Shhh! " Winter urges her. " They'll hear us. "

" Relax, " Leia tells her best friend. " No one will find us here. " They have hidden themselves at the edge of the grand ballroom, tucked behind a swooping marble staircase. Leia is supposed to be in the center of the room, swinging across the dance floor in a long ballgown of shimmersilk.

But that was before she and Winter hid a giant wooly moth in the Minister of Agriculture's desk drawer. He deserved it—but Leia's father didn't see it that way.

(Especially after the wooly moth chewed through a sheet of flimsiplast containing the budget for the whole next year.) Now she is banned from attending the party—but Leia has decided that doesn't mean she can't watch.

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