Luke stared at Mara, not comprehending her question at first. Older? What was she talking about? Okay, Caedus' war had more than likely added more gray hairs and a few wrinkles, but--

Then he started noticing things.

Mara would always be beautiful to him, of course, and in the over twenty years they'd been married she hadn't changed much to his eyes, but there were subtle things about her now, details he'd missed in the initial rush of joy at seeing her alive and holding her in his arms again. No strands of gray in her vibrant red hair, none of the fine lines on her face--that had all come after the Yuuzhan Vong, after Ben's birth.

Something was different here, very different, and Luke's brow furrowed as he realized it was because Mara was younger than she had been when--

Part of Luke's brain rebelled against this egregious error in judgment that was about to be committed, but the part of him that was completely dumbfounded by this thought beat that part into submission.

"Mara," he said slowly, "Forgive me for asking, but how old are you?"