She was a realist and she’d seen more in her short life than some three times her age. She’d seen war and famine, disease and slavery, death and destruction… but she’d also seen the unquestionable power of hope. Leia had watched her own world literally fall apart and yet seen a movement rise from its ashes. She had to believe that sometimes destruction leads to new life, and not all good ends have followed good means to get there.

“Chance? You seem to like chance and luck.” Leia looked deeper into his eyes, less shadowed and guarded than the man she knew. “How do you know I’m not a bad bet?” His older self would certainly tell him so.

She let him pour until the glass was nearly full and then she tapped the glass again with her finger. “I’d think people should decide when together, don’t you?”

The princess was probably going to hate herself in the morning, but for now the firelight, the warmth, the drinks and the company were conspiring against her better judgment.