"A few years," she confirmed as they reached the front door, which she opened without the use of a key. There was no point in locking doors here, and she had little of value to be taken anyway. "After my husband died in the war, I needed a fresh start. A quiet life seemed best."

It was a patchwork of truths that were easy to craft into not quite a lie. Luckily, few of the locals had ever inquired too deeply into her past, the pain she still felt over Anakin's loss aiding in the deception. She let it show now as well, a weariness in her expression as she stepped into the house and then moved aside for her guests.

There wasn't much to the house. One large room that held a dining table chairs and a cluster of worn armchairs in front of the fireplace. A kitchen was off to the side of that room, herbs drying at the window, and there were two doors at the far end - one for the fresher and the other for a bedroom that was hardly more than a closet. It wasn't much, but it was more than many had, and just like the outside, she'd done her best to make it feel like a home.