Padmé was so at ease with the two of them that she didn't notice her slip until that inquiry was posed, and then-- Her facade slipped, the mask cracking to reveal affection at the pyrotechnic antics she remembered hearing about, followed quickly by a wash of fear across her expression. If he knew R2-D2, what else did he know? Who else? Had he known Anakin during the war? Had she been right to worry that the Empire had finally found her?

Standing, she stiffly turned toward the kitchen, her usual abilities completely abandoning her as she tried to convincingly explain away the misstep. "Yes, that's the one. I was fourteen at the time, and it's been years since our last meeting."