Mercer woke the morning after the Architect's visit to the ordinary sound of Elena fussing in her cradle down the hall, and he found himself grinning at the ceiling before he'd even fully opened his eyes. No voice stirred in his mind. No warning waited at the edge of his thoughts. Just a baby who wanted breakfast, and sunlight coming through the curtains at the same familiar angle it always had.
"You look pleased with yourself," Isla said, already awake beside him, watching him with quiet amusement.
"I think I finally understand what peace actually feels like," Mercer said. "Not the absence of danger. Just an ordinary morning, with nothing watching to see what I'll choose next."
They spent that day the way they'd spent dozens of others before it, council business in the morning, a slow
