Sophia hadn't moved on as quickly as he had, and while she'd allowed him to kiss her the intimacy was short-lived. It took a good deal of self-control for Ozymandias not to groan at the interruption. That wouldn't have gone over well, he could tell, because whatever she wanted to talk about was serious — but he wanted nothing to do with serious at the moment. He had enough serious outside of this room. In a week he'd be making decisions that affected the entire country; people were needling him about who he might appoint to the Wizengamot; two separate reporters had asked for specific details on his plans for voting reform. His youngest sister was still having trouble walking normally, after the dragon attack, and his mother's skin was still red and blotchy where she had been burned. He'd come here to get away from all of that. He didn't want to have talks tonight; he just wanted comfort and ease, the way things had been in the beginning.

"Oh, come on, don't," he complained, still trying to keep his tone light — not giving way to her mood yet, even though she had taken hold of his head and seemed determined to derail his positive mood. "Don't sound so somber. What could you possibly have done to make me cross with you?"

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