Little did Jaina know that there was no yet when it came to that. The man she was around really was the man her grandfather should have been, but that man had made the wrong choice and gone down the wrong path. Anakin knew that moment, the one where he'd been faced with that choice and understood where that other version of himself went wrong. He didn't understand how he ended up in that monstrous twist of metal and armor, that dark helmet he'd seen flashes of in the other Jaina's mind when she told him of things he hadn't wanted to know about. Would this one do that, too? Tell him of things he was better of not knowing, of a man he wasn't and never would become?
He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt -- after all, she felt calmer and less conflicted in the Force than the Jaina he'd known on the isle of Soeldei did -- but that didn't mean he wasn't going to remain weary of her. He'd been hurt by those close to him one too many times. He wasn't about to get his hopes up again.
"The Sith are gone, we--" Anakin stopped, his brows shooting up. "Honored?" That really wasn't what he was expecting to hear. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, shifting his stance from one to the other. "Uhh...thanks?"