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“It’s not about being liked,” Leia said, then hesitated. “I guess I question whether I belong here.”

Han rolled toward her. “Now that’s just crazy.”

“No, it isn’t. I never realized how much Mon Mothma did, or how hard it was. This job is so overwhelming. Everyone always wants a piece of you. It takes someone special to deal with it all.”

“You are someone special, boss lady.”

“Some days I just don’t feel up to it,” she said, shaking her head. “Behn-kihl-nahm, now, he’d be a terrific president. He’s got the experience, the insight, the patience—he’s been here more than thirty years, Han. Half the time I feel like an accident of history. What happens if you and Luke don’t get it into your heads to rescue me? Poof. No Princess Leia.”

“I seem to remember a certain feisty young princess taking charge of her own rescue,” Han said dryly. “I don’t know if any of us would have gotten out of there without all of us.”

“The point is, I could easily have died on the Death Star,” Leia said. “I don’t doubt that my father was capable of killing me to get what Grand Moff Tarkin wanted.”

“You never have talked about that.”

“I don’t like even thinking about it,” she said.

“He didn’t know you were his daughter.”

She smiled sadly. “That says something, doesn’t it? Oh, listen to me—I’m sounding more and more like Luke all the time. This is why I hate looking back. Nothing good comes from looking back.”

“So why are you doing it?”

“Because you asked me why these negotiations matter to me,” she said. Then she quickly amended her answer, saying, “No—that’s not fair to you. It’s not your doing. I’ve been lying here for an hour afraid to go to sleep, and I can’t think of anything else but.”

“Oh,” said Han. “Did you dream about Alderaan again?”

“Twice in the last week,” said Leia. “And that’s another reason to question myself.”

“Because you have bad dreams? Anyone who was there would.”

“Tarkin said I had dictated the choice of targets for the Death Star’s demonstration,” Leia said softly. “I haven’t been able to make myself stop hearing that. I still see the explosion.” She looked away. “And sometimes I can’t help feeling as though they died because of me. That I survived because I betrayed them. And what kind of qualification is that?”

“Nonsense. They died because of Tarkin,” Han said. “He only said that to manipulate you. I hate to see that it’s still working.”

“Memories have a long reach,” she said, settling back against her pillows. “I just realized something else, Han. About why this matters. And it’s a better answer to your question than my doubts about belonging where I am.” She shook her head slowly and closed her eyes. “My father did so much to divide the galaxy. I feel as though I have to do what I can to unite it.”

“You can’t take all that on—”

“I can’t not take it on. I have my demons, too—Luke’s not the only one. That’s why you can never ask me to walk away,” Leia said. “I don’t know if I belong in this job, and it makes me bone-tired and half crazy sometimes, but I want to be here. Here, maybe I can make a difference.” She turned to her husband in the darkness. “That’s all I’m trying to do in that room with Nil Spaar, Han—make a difference. Is that wrong?”

Han reached for her hand and squeezed it affectionately, forgivingly. “No. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you might think about throwing in a vacation here and there, when you start to feel the walls closing in. Let someone else mind the store for a while.”

“There isn’t anyone else,” she said, with a hint of sadness. “They come here to see the president. So that’s who I have to be.”

“Viceroy, before we recess for the day—I wonder if I could ask a favor of you.”

“What is that?”

“I wonder if you might be able to satisfy my curiosity on a historical matter.”

Nil Spaar bowed his head. “If I can, Princess. I am not a historian.”

“This is recent history,” Leia said, “well within your own lifetime.”

“That is no guarantee that I am acquainted with the answer,” the viceroy said with a smile. “But ask,