"Peace is not the absence of power, but the moment you no longer need to wield it."
The solid, oak-reinforced door to our private chambers closed behind us with a soft, final thud, a sound that, to my exhausted ears, felt more definitive than the fall of a fortress. We were home, and the contrast between the room we had just left, the sterile, high-tension staging ground of command, and our sanctuary was immediate and overwhelming. Here, the air was warm, smelling faintly of cedar and the clean, calming herbs I kept near the hearth, not ozone and adrenaline. The only light came from the low, slow-burning fire, casting long, peaceful shadows across the rich, sapphire-blue tapestries.
