The master bedroom of the Oakhaven manor had survived a decade of brutal warfare, the terrifying descent of the cosmic Architects, and the highly chaotic early years of raising two elementally unstable toddlers. It was fundamentally designed to be an absolute sanctuary of peace, warmth, and rest.
Currently, however, it looked exactly like the highly frantic, completely unhinged command center of a digital apocalypse.
Valeria was resting comfortably against a mountain of plush silk pillows in the center of the massive bed. The Warlord's profound, overwhelming exhaustion had naturally faded, completely replaced by a deep, radiant warmth that bloomed outward from her physical core. The localized, biological override had finished its initial compilation phase. She was perfectly healthy, entirely stable, and absolutely amused.
She took a slow sip from a warm mug of herbal tea, her glowing amethyst eyes completely tracking the manic, highly rigid pacing of her husband.
