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Anakin has been relentless about convincing the Queen – Princess – that maybe her joining him wasn't a good idea. Those little worries of him were most of the time met with irritation, if not flat out antagonizing him.
"You were the one to come in my room and ask me to let you leave," she reminds him, walking to the ship the foot soldiers used to take. It's no longer in use, now that the war is settled.
Anakin huffs, his fear long forgotten. "I was... distraught. You were distraught. Now that we slept on it, I'm not particularly fond of the thought of you going to Tatooine."
She'd be so out of place. A flower in the middle of the desert, in fear of sounding like a simpering fool. Snowquills, after all, die if given too much heat. She has nothing to do there, and if he can, he will keep her from seeing that place. From seeing... too much of himself.
She doesn't know about his upbringing. She doesn't know that his mother and himself were slaves. And in face of her palace and expensive gowns, he's not sure he wants to tell her.
"Tatooine?" she echoes, watching him above her shoulder. "Isn't that in the Outer Rim, too?" For a second, he's scared that she'll see right through him. "I'm sorry, I haven't heard much about it."
He almost heaves out a sigh. "You aren't missing anything, really."
She moves around the ship, and brings the rail down. "You're right, because I'm coming with you."
Anakin grabs her wrist, more as a reflex than to actually hold her back, he isn't that foolish. Thalia turns around, taken aback at the fact that he would be so forward in broad daylight. She made herself clear when they snuck out of her room at first light – what happened behind closed doors was theirs. Out in the light, where everyone could see them, it could not exist.
Whatever 'it' was.
He lets go of her as if she burned him. "I am serious, you know. You don't have to come."
