I married Mon Mothma On Yavin IV.

One more time would need to be enough and then Kleya would leave and get back to bed and catch a few hours of sleep before the early deliveries to the gallery. She hit the voice panel again. “Senator Mothma? You asked for me?” Kleya heard no sound from inside, even as close to the door as she was standing. As important as Mothma was, Kleya couldn’t afford to linger. She was too vulnerable here, too open.

With a sigh Kleya turned and took the first few steps down the hallway when she heard the telltale sound of the door sliding open behind her at last. The doorway was empty and a sudden, vicious feeling of dread curled like icy tendrils down her spine. Her focus sharpened as her hand drifted to the small knife hidden in the folds of her dark red coat. Kleya suddenly mourned the absence of her blaster, that would immediately have alerted senate security so she didn’t even bother bringing it. From her point of view she couldn’t see much of the inside of the senator‘s office. The main light was out, just a faint orange glow from the side panels spilling over into the shadows. A sweet cloying scent drifted from the open door and her nostrils flared as the distinctive metal tang registered. A sense of foreboding entwined with the dread stretching out from somewhere deep inside her like a pair of silk ribbons.

This doesn’t have a name yet and the working title is not suitable for minors (I’d imagine..)

"An illicit, tempestuous affair, Senator,” Luthen clarifies with the expression of a man who just made the most sensible proposition in the galaxy. "It would give you all the more reason to visit the gallery as regularly and as long as you please. Or even receive visits to the embassy if your schedule doesn’t permit a visit here."

"What?" Mon scoffs, genuinely scandalized now. Outrage bubbles up inside her at the very suggestion. Her entire body stiffens and she can’t even fake a courteous smile. "You can't be serious!"