Sorry, Lucifer. You were the odd man out with this one.

Because Octavia's exhale became a huff, amused in the softest, most fragile way possible. Some tension bled from her shoulders, not that she'd realized it had begun to build up in the first place.

"Where the children play on the shore each day." It was more of a faintly melodic murmur than it was singing. And about as quiet as Duke's humming. "And all are safe within..."