Rey smiled wryly, feeling a warmth flare in her chest at Leia’s words. If only because it was so familiar of her master, the woman she remembered and had been heartbroken to lose. It had been in service of turning her son from the Darkside, only Rey wished desperately there could have been another way. “Of course Master.” Rey said softly, still grinning to herself.
The way Leia’s words died in her throat made Rey consider the fact Luke must be closer to her age, than his own sister. To Rey, the years had made Leia weary but not in the least bit weak, or feeble. But the first moment she had met her, had been after losing Han, she knew Leia had lost so much. “Do you think he’d want to know? Any of it?” She asked lowly, seeming genuinely uncertain. “Is it better he doesn’t?” What Luke had experienced had seen him close himself off the Force, Rey didn’t want that to happen here.