The next dawn saw Leia on a suborbital jumper, wearing all-weather gear and drinking caf from a travel mug as she leaned against her rucksack of gear. She sat in the back with a few members of the royal guard and the supplies they were taking to the Istabith range garrison. All of them frequently served the palace itself, so none of them were self-conscious around her; after the first several minutes, they chatted easily among themselves, as if she weren’t even there.

(Well, she suspected they weren’t swearing as much as usual.)

Leia preferred it this way. Instead of making stately small talk, she could remain on the jump seat and look out at the snowy hills and mountains beneath. With the plasma window keeping out the cold, she could enjoy the way the sky turned pale pink at the horizon, or how the deep snowdrifts softened the jagged peaks of the range.

In the far distance stood Appenza Peak. Although it wasn’t the tallest mountain on Alderaan, it was perhaps the most iconic—a slim, needlelike sliver pointing far above the modest hills at its base. The flag of this region bore its silhouette; fairy tales often began with a spirit flying away from its home on Appenza Peak to choose an adventurer. Religious pilgrims claimed that at its height, one could commune with the Force, and the relatively easy climb meant that hundreds of people made the trek each year.

But relatively easy wasn’t the same as easy. Even the fairy tales warned against trying Appenza Peak on a whim. Making the journey up the mountain required training, equipment, and will.

Equipment, check, Leia thought, feeling the backpack’s reassuring heft against her shoulder. Will, check. Training—coming right up.

After Wobani, she craved a physical, material challenge. Exact parameters. On the mountain, success and failure would be as solid as the rock beneath her feet. The pathfinding class would prepare her for that.

The jumper landed at the designated coordinates only long enough for Leia to hop out. She waved over her shoulder at the guards as it took off again, sending swirls of snowflakes into the air, then turned to join the pathfinding students who had already gathered in the clearing next to the high, gabled chalet that served as their headquarters for the day.

“Wait—aren’t you the princess?” said a slim, dark-skinned boy with aquiline features and an aristocratic accent. “How did you wind up flying here on that old barge?”

None of the royal family stood on ceremony except when diplomatic protocol demanded it. But proudly proclaiming you weren’t too good to ride on a jumper was just the same as hinting that, really, you were too good for it and wanted a reward for pretending otherwise. She simply said, “They were headed this way. And yes, I’m Leia Organa.”

“Chassellon Stevis of Coruscant.” He gave her an overly elaborate bow, twirling his outstretched hand at the wrist to make her laugh. It worked. “My mother heads our diplomatic legation, as you probably know—and now you and I follow our parents into the family business.”

When Breha Organa had arranged this class, she’d reached out to some of the other new members of the Apprentice Legislature to participate as well. The rationale had been for Leia to get to know a few people outside of Coruscant’s sparkling but artificial social whirl. It felt more like her mother was hurriedly trying to find some friends for her daughter. That way, she doesn’t have to feel guilty about ignoring me—if she even feels guilty at all—

“I’m looking forward to it,” Leia said easily—or what she hoped was easily. Her parents’ diplomatic polish still eluded her sometimes, and she envied the queen and viceroy their perfect, all-concealing masks. However, she knew the exact moment to stop favoring the aristocrat who’d greeted her and turn toward the others. Holding her hand out to a dark-haired girl, she began, “And you are—?”

She went from student to student, memorizing names and faces the way she’d been taught since childhood. Harp Allor of Chandrila, friendly and overprepared—Sssamm Ashsssen of Fillithar, an unusual student in a sport usually engaged in by bipeds—an Ithorian whose name she hadn’t caught, would have to ask about that later—

But then she got to someone who stopped her cold.

This student was human, a tall, gangly girl with a narrow face and long nose. Her hair was acid green, which meant that either she was from Iloh or she really liked standing out. While the others mostly wore white gear with silver or orange reflective stripes, this girl wore a rainbow of bright colors that clashed so painfully Leia had to fight the urge to squint. Her goggles were already strapped on, and they were of antique make, with pink lenses that curved out from the frames to an almost ridiculous degree. Although she’d obviously noticed Leia, she didn’t introduce herself. She just stood there, staring and smiling.

“Hi,” Leia began. “I’m Leia Organa.”

“Of Alderaan,” the girl said in a curiously even tone, like someone groggy after a bacta treatment. Her thinness and gawkiness reminded Leia of a marsh crane.

“Um, yeah. And you are—”

“Amilyn Holdo of Gatalenta.” The reply came in the exact same drawn-out monotone. “Thank your mom for inviting me to the class.”

All right, good. She can make normal conversation. Maybe she just needs to…warm up first. “Are you looking forward to trying pathfinding?”

“Definitely.” Amilyn’s loopy grin widened. “I hope it’s dangerous! I want to get more comfortable with the nearness and inevitability of death.”

“…okay.” Leia froze her smile on her face by force of will while thinking, There’s no way she’s handling my climbing ropes.

(Her father sometimes said she made up her mind too quickly about people. Her mother told her to trust her instincts. Today, she’d follow her mother’s advice.)

The final six students had all flown up with the instructor and were now tromping in from the nearby landing pad. Since Leia had already looked over the Apprentice Legislature directory, she recognized a few of them. One in particular stood out to her, a boy who wore what looked like cast-off military gear. He stood a head taller than her, which wasn’t the same as being tall. Some observers would’ve called him odd-looking, with his deep-set eyes and sharply angular features, but others would’ve called him handsome. Leia wasn’t sure which group she’d agree with. He was probably the one it was most important for her to know, so she trudged a few steps through the drift between them to hold out her hand. “You’re Kier Domadi, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Kier spoke with the deference she nearly always heard from citizens of Alderaan. His voice carried a surprising resonance for someone so young and wiry.

“I’m glad we’ll be serving in the Apprentice Legislature together. Sharing the same pod, going over the same material—we’ll have to cooperate almost every day.” She felt her smile brightening, too much, really, for the occasion.

His expression was hard to read, but his focus on her had intensified. He wasn’t greeting his princess any longer; he was evaluating her, the same way she was measuring him. “I look forward to it.”

“Luckily it looks like we’ll get along.” Did I just say that out loud? Am I flirting? Diplomats aren’t supposed to flirt. But she’d figured out that she was in the “handsome” camp.

“Luck didn’t have anything to do with my being here.” Kier straightened, and the intensity of his gaze became more uncomfortable. “I guess it didn’t have anything to do with you being here either.”

It felt like being slapped. Did he think she hadn’t earned her own spot in the Apprentice Legislature? She’d interned for two years with her father, was as familiar with the Senate’s workings as some senators (and more than others), and had passed every mandatory test with top marks. I work as hard as anyone! Leia wanted to protest. Harder than most.

Then she remembered Wobani, how proud she’d been of herself and her royal authority, so sure she knew what to do and how to do it. Instead she’d made a mistake that affected thousands of lives, maybe permanently. Never before had Leia doubted the wisdom of their hereditary monarchy, but now she thought, I inherited power before I earned it. I misused that power, and people got hurt.

Kier’s expression clouded. “I didn’t mean to—hurt your feelings, or—”

“I’m fine,” she said shortly, turning away and pushing her doubts aside as best she could. This was something she’d have to consider, but she’d be damned if she’d let stiff-necked Kier Domadi think he had the power to make her upset.

“All right, everybody, gather around!” called the instructor, a dark, broad-shouldered woman with a wide grin who stood even taller than the Ithorian. “I’m Chief Pangie of the Chandrilan Pathfinding Corps. You’ll address me as ‘Chief’ if you want to stay alive.”

Leia observed a few worried glances around her, which clearly meant, Is she joking?

“Her Majesty Queen Breha was kind enough to set up this class, so assignment one is here on Alderaan. During the next few months, we’ll visit different climates on different worlds. The goal here is for you all to know how to handle yourself anywhere, with nothing but your own two hands and some basic equipment.” Chief Pangie paused to nod toward Sssamm from Fillithar. “If you don’t have any hands, you’re going to learn how to use your coils. Those of you with prehensile tails are in luck, because that’s as good as an extra rope, out here.”

“I knew I ought to have bioengineered a tail,” Chassellon muttered.

Apparently tails were in vogue on Coruscant at the moment. Extra, bioengineered body parts never lasted more than a few months, and in Leia’s opinion they never quite looked right. Maybe she’d feel differently about a tail once she tried to climb her first cliff.

Chief Pangie continued, “Pathfinding is also about orienting yourself with little equipment or none at all. Even celestial navigation won’t help you if you’re not on your home planet and you don’t know the sky! So you have to notice every detail of your surroundings. Memorize every turn you take. If you don’t, you’re as good as dead.”

Amilyn Holdo beamed. Leia wondered if heirs to the throne ever changed their Challenges of the Body after their Day of Demand.

Clapping her hands, the chief finished, “We’re going to go over specific techniques later. Today, I just want to see who here has it in them to go the distance, and who’s going to pay close enough attention to landmarks along the way. So get those packs on your backs and let’s start moving. Has everyone got a field generator? Show me!”

Leia pointed toward the small box clipped to her belt. The generator would respond to sudden changes in velocity with a small personal force field that would shield the wearer and prevent any falls, rockslides, or collisions from being fatal—in theory, anyway. Everyone was duly equipped with one, even Amilyn Holdo, who’d decorated hers with some kind of glitter. Only after seeing every single anti-impact field generator did Chief Pangie nod and signal for them to get going.

As they began on a path leading into the forest, Leia glanced back at the faraway outline of Appenza Peak. Her courage returned at the sight of the challenge ahead.

It felt like she was taking her first steps up that mountain already.

Five hours later, Leia had decided she never cared if she ever climbed a mountain again.

It felt like she had already climbed eight thousand mountains and still Chief Pangie wouldn’t rest. Even lunch had been eaten on their feet while marching upward.

The slope of this hill wasn’t that steep, and other than the thick snow, the terrain wasn’t difficult either. For the first couple of hours it had been a pleasant walk. Now the backpack’s straps seemed to be carving their way through Leia’s shoulders, and her legs shook with exhaustion. As they made their way into a small clearing amid the tall firs, she couldn’t help thinking what a great place this would be to take a short break.

Chief Pangie halted in her tracks, put her hands on her hips, and grinned. “Well, would you look at this?” A hoversled sat at the edge of the clearing in standby mode, just waiting for its fortunate owner. Leia wondered if taking the hoversled counted as stealing if she replaced it right away—or she could give the owner a better, newer one in return, the best the royal purse could buy—

As Chief Pangie went to inspect the hoversled, Chassellon leaned against a tree, and the Ithorian took a seat on the nearest boulder. Although Leia was tempted to set down her backpack, she knew putting it back on again afterward would feel so much worse. She took heart when she saw Kier rest one hand on a conifer’s trunk; at least he knew by now she wasn’t weaker than him. The only students not showing any signs of weariness were Sssamm of Fillithar, and somehow, Amilyn Holdo, whose smile remained as glazed as ever.

“This surely is a beautiful hoversled.” Chief Pangie ran her hand along the streamlined steering console. “One gorgeous piece of machinery.”

“I’ve got one nicer than that back on Coruscant,” Chassellon sniffed.

This earned him a look from Chief Pangie. “Well, isn’t that fun for you? But your fancy-pants hoversled is in a whole other star system where it can’t do you a bit of good. Whereas mine is right here where I need it. I know which one I prefer.”

With that, she hopped on, hitting the ignition switch to bring the hoversled back to full power. Leia and the other pathfinding students stared as realization sank in. It was Chassellon who said, “You’re not—you’re leaving us out here?”

“Check out the big-city brain on Coruscant boy!” The chief couldn’t have been more delighted. “That’s right, kids. I told you I wanted to see who’d pay attention to the landmarks along our way. We’re about to find out who here can follow basic instructions.”

Harp Allor had turned nearly as white as the snow. “But—but—you told us there would be special techniques we would learn!”

“And you will,” Chief Pangie promised. “The thing is, none of those techniques will do you any good if you can’t even bother to notice where you’re going.”

Sssamm hissed in dismay as Chassellon said, “Isn’t this dangerous?”

Chief Pangie’s good cheer only increased. “If you’re not careful? Yeah.” Amilyn held both her hands to the sky as if thanking a sun god and mouthed the word Yes. The chief continued, “You’re all tagged with trackers. So anybody who hasn’t made it back to the chalet by nightfall—that’s about four hours away—well, we’ll be back up to collect you.”

A sigh of relief escaped Leia, and she glanced sideways to see whether Kier had heard her. If so, he didn’t seem to notice. Besides, she wasn’t alone. Every one of the students had brightened at the prospect of a ride back.

Which was when Chief Pangie added, “Of course, anybody who hasn’t got it together enough to make it back in that amount of time gets kicked out of the class. So you’d better hightail it down there, kids. Good luck!”

Cackling with laughter, she sped her hoversled down the mountain, quickly vanishing over a ridge.

Like everyone else in the class, Leia stared after the chief. She’d memorized a few landmarks. Maybe she could manage—

No. Not maybe. There’s no way I’m going back to my parents and telling them I failed.

It didn’t matter if every other student sat down in the snow and refused to budge. She was going to get down that mountain by sunset.

Somehow.