Leia tenses under his touch. Even knowing that Obi-Wan, of all people, has no untoward thoughts--they need to make this look believable if their conversation is going to escape notice--the fact that it needs to be done is difficult enough to contend with. How much difference does it make if it only looks like she's a painted doll to be traded and violated? All the difference in the world to her mind; none at all to her body.

"You should go." Her voice is low, her gaze someplace beyond Obi-Wan's eyes. It's more valuable, at the moment, to be seen treating him like any slave presented with a potential buyer, than to see his face. "We'll speak again."

We'll see each other again. After everything, she's not going to end a slave somewhere in the unknown.