Azrael rolled over in the bed they shared and immediately dragged Claudia back into it. “None o’that t’day.” He grumble-groused as he proceeded to snuggle into her back, eyes still closed. “Stay here.”

It looked like Claudia was stuck with her husband helplessly being cute, for the day.

"Buhhf Ieye haff t' gehy dressed, m'b'loved men'ce." Claudia grumble-groused in return, eyes still closed but body rose upright at the side of the bed with one leg pointed out, hands languidly plucking about for gloves and stockings that simply weren't there by a long shot. Jibber-jabber protests rolled on one after the other, until the Shinigami snuggled into the small of her back and wiped clean the will's slate to continue with its climb to consciousness! Instead, the Countess sloooowly tipped back ‘til she toppled atop her husband, burying him alive beneath her weight and white satin. 

The wolf at the foot of the bed gave a big stretch and an odd-sounding yawn, padding his way up the blankets until he too flopped in defeat, nestling behind the odd couple and pressing his big paws into the Mortician’s back, as if shoving him to make more room (despite now owning a good portion of the space). To the prepping butler’s chagrin, this was a full sign the Matriarch was not, in fact, rising today. The curtains were drawn closed again, shutting out that bright, beaming light of a Summer morn.

"What shall I tell the Baron of Monet, my lady?" Tanaka inquired, placing the silver platter lined with mulberries, assorted fruit tarts and two piping hot cups of tea on the beside, waiting patiently as the mistress wrapped her arms around the Mortician's blanketed leg and nuzzled into his knee.

"Sufferin’ a faintin’ spell. I’ll make it up to him tomorrow.”

Damned if that cute card weren't powerful. Dark dealings will have to wait.