Rex stood in the silence of the chamber, listening to the retreating, hurried pitter patter of Lilith's footsteps echoing down the corridor. A faint, dark amusement played at the corners of his lips.
She was a marvel of contradictions, an irreplaceable operational asset, a master of intelligence and logistics, and simultaneously the most predictable, stubborn creature in the entire Underlayer.
He knew her. He knew that "multiplier" debate wasn't going to die in the bathing room.
She was going to weaponize it. She was going to find a way to slip that "contribution" into a conversation later today, most likely with Cassandra.
He turned his gaze toward the bed, watching the rhythmic, deep rise and fall of Cassandra's shoulders as she slept. He could already envision the conversation: Lilith, with that maddeningly smug look of "mathematical correctness," trying to convince a sleeping queen that she was a vital part of the multiplier structure.
