The months that followed were… quiet.
Not peaceful—an empire like mine never truly knew peace—but orderly in a way that almost felt alien after years of crisis layered atop crisis.
Reports still arrived daily, borders still needed watching, and Root never truly slept.
Yet for the first time since Romanus had been more than an idea and a banner, there was no avalanche waiting behind every door.
The backlog was gone.
I sat in my office one morning staring at an empty corner of my desk where towering stacks of parchment had once threatened structural collapse, and for several long seconds I simply… didn't know what to do.
Serena noticed immediately.
"That look," she said from the nearby window seat, quill paused mid-scratch. "Your plotting something arent you."
I leaned back in my chair and exhaled slowly. "You make it sound like a bad thing."
"No," she replied, lips curling into a knowing smile. "I make it sound like you're about to do something irresponsible."
