His deaths were recalled as one death, and whatever emotion they evoked (disproportionately related to the God Emperor as they were), they were his own, and vital. He winced and smiled back, reading her as easily as she was surely reading him.

"Moons and oceans, Sheeana. I haven't counted the tides in lifetimes. There will be viable worlds enough, for us and our progeny - and his as well."

As they both knew, happiness would have far less say than necessity, but it didn't take away from his pleasure at her vision. Imagination! All else they could make.