Chapter 541: Because I Am Still Your Wife (Patreon)

Kenway Keep — Philadelphia — The Holy Commonwealth of Pennmere

"Well…"

Alaric managed to stretch the word for less than a second before Kassandra seized his wrist.

His eyebrows rose.

"Kassandra?"

"No," she turned and started walking.

Alaric allowed himself to be pulled away from the desk, although the ease with which she dragged him had considerably more to do with cooperation than physical necessity. Papers disturbed by her earlier movement still lay scattered across the floor, while several Vanguard reports remained open across the desk behind them.

Kassandra did not spare any of them a glance.

"Where are we going?" Alaric asked, still being dragged by the Misthios.

"Our room."

Alaric looked down at her hand wrapped around his wrist. "I've only been home for about two minutes."

"And in those two minutes I discovered that half your coat appears to have been burned away, there is dried blood on your collar, something melted the gold embroidery, and you smell as though someone threw you into a forge."

"That description makes it sound worse than it was."

Kassandra stopped and slowly turned her head, meeting Alaric's stare.

"You know," he said after a moment, "I think continuing to walk would be best."

"Mm."

She resumed dragging him.

A servant approaching from the far end of the corridor took one look at Kassandra's expression, another at Alaric's ruined uniform, and wisely stepped aside.

Alaric gave the man a small nod as they passed, while the servant pretended not to see him.

"You've frightened the staff," Alaric remarked.

"You frightened me."

That removed the humor from his face for a moment.

Kassandra did not look back.

They crossed another corridor before reaching the private portion of Kenway Keep. Kassandra opened the bedroom doors, pulled Alaric inside, and shut them firmly enough that the latch clicked against the frame.

Alaric looked toward the closed door, then toward her. "Am I in trouble?"

"Yes."

"I've fought armies and received kinder welcomes."

Kassandra released his wrist. "Coat."

Alaric glanced down.

"What?"

"Take it off."

His mouth curved, "Kassandra, if you wanted me undressed, you could have simply—"

"Alaric."

He immediately stopped and zipped his mouth.

The smile remained for another second before he sighed, reached for the surviving fastenings, and said, "Fine."

The ruined Vanguard coat came away badly.

Several portions had melted into distorted shapes during the battle, while other sections had been ripped deeply enough that removing the garment caused blackened fabric to shed onto the carpet. Alaric winced at the sight more from concern for the tailoring than from any remembered injury.

Kassandra caught that expression.

"You're worried about the coat."

"Well, it was a very good coat gifted by William."

"It is charcoal."

"That feels unnecessarily final."

She took the garment from him, and only then did Kassandra truly inspect it.

At the office, anger and relief had competed too violently for her to notice the individual details. Here, under the quiet morning light entering their private room, every mark told its own story.

One sleeve had been ripped apart near the shoulder.

Not just cut… ripped.

The damage followed the line of force that would have accompanied something enormous pulling against his arm.

The chest contained a burned opening nearly wide enough to expose his entire torso. Around the edge, the fabric had not merely caught fire. The fibers had been annihilated so completely that the surviving cloth had hardened into glossy black curls.

Kassandra ran two fingers along the damaged section, her expression tightening.

Another tear crossed the collar, revealing blood beneath.

A lot more than she had first realized, dried into the black fabric so dark that most people would have missed it against the color… but she did not.

Her eyes moved toward Alaric, who had already begun unfastening the damaged waistcoat beneath it.

"Kassandra, I really am fine."

"I did not ask."

"Eros healed everything."

"I know what your Eros does."

"It heals me completely."

"I know."

"So technically, this inspection is unnecessary."

She looked at him.

Alaric decided not to comment some more and just sheepishly lowered his hands. "Continue…"

Kassandra placed the coat across a nearby chair and approached him.

The shirt beneath the waistcoat had suffered nearly as badly.

A circular burn occupied much of the front, and several lines of old blood marked areas where the fabric must once have been pressed directly against open wounds.

Kassandra touched one near his ribs.

There was perfect, unblemished skin beneath it—no scar, no discoloration, and no tenderness when she pressed.

Her fingertips moved upward.

Another section of dried blood sat beneath the left shoulder.

Nothing.

She stepped around him.

The back of his shirt had been shredded in several places, including one long tear that crossed diagonally from his shoulder toward his waist.

Kassandra carefully traced it. "How deep?"

Alaric looked over his shoulder.

"What?"

"This one."

He glanced down as though the answer might be written somewhere on his body. "I don't remember."

Her eyes narrowed. "That is not reassuring."

"I was busy."

"With what?"

"A lot of things."

Kassandra pinched the bridge of her nose. "Take the shirt off."

"…" Alaric obeyed without another joke.

Bare skin appeared beneath the ruined clothing.

It was healthy… completely healthy.

Kassandra knew it would be.

She had watched wounds disappear from his body with a speed that still felt unnatural even after everything she knew about him. She had seen him use powers that should have exhausted ordinary men beyond movement, only to return to dinner as though he had spent the afternoon inspecting ships.

This was different.

Her hands moved across his shoulders and saw no wound.

Nothing on his chest or his ribs.

Everything was perfect.

She looked toward the dried blood still staining the discarded shirt.

Alaric watched her face and smiled. "You're overthinking it."

Kassandra said nothing as her fingers moved along his sternum.

The shirt had been almost completely destroyed there.

"How large was the wound?"

"Kassandra."

"How large?"

He considered answering honestly.

Then remembered the Light Fang that had punched through him earlier in the battle, the point-blank Tailed Beast Ball, the broken bones, the damage from absorbing Truth-Seeking Orbs, and several impacts that had reduced portions of his internal anatomy into something Kassandra absolutely did not need described before breakfast.

He smiled.

"There might not have even been one."

Kassandra stared at him, but Alaric maintained the smile.

She picked up the shirt, held the massive opening against his chest, and looked through it directly at him.

"You expect me to believe your clothing spontaneously developed a hole the size of my hand."

"Fabric quality has declined."

"Alaric."

"I'll speak with the tailor."

She threw the shirt onto the chair.

"Hehe…" He chuckled, but Kassandra did not.

That immediately made the sound die.

Her eyes returned to his body, moving more slowly now.

The absence of injury almost made the evidence worse.

There was nothing to inspect because his powers had erased the history from his flesh. All she possessed were the remains left behind on clothing incapable of regenerating with him.

Burns, blood, one ruined sleeve, and a collar soaked deeply enough to suggest an injury near the neck.

Kassandra's gaze stopped there.

Her fingers touched the side of his throat and Alaric felt her thumb rest over his pulse.

She was not measuring it… she was reassuring herself that it existed.

Seeing her worry like this made his expression soften. "Kassandra, my love..."

"What happened here?"

Her fingers remained against his neck.

Alaric remembered Madara's blade passing close enough to nearly separate his head.

He looked into her eyes.

"Nothing that stayed."

"That is not what I asked."

"No."

Her jaw tightened when she heard Alaric's answer.

Alaric placed his hand over hers. "My regeneration is too overpowered for you to worry this much."

Kassandra's stare sharpened. "I'm serious."

"So am I..." He squeezed her fingers gently. "If something cuts me, my innate regeneration fixes it. If something tears through an organ, Eros fixes it instantly. If something breaks bones, they mend before the fight is usually finished."

He smiled slightly.

"If there even were wounds worth remembering, they're gone."

Kassandra looked at their joined hands.

Alaric continued, softer now. "You're reconstructing a battle from damaged clothes when my body already tells you the important part."

"What important part?"

"That I'm fine."

"…"

"…"

She remained silent.

"…"

"…"

He waited.

The anger slowly left her shoulders.

Kassandra drew a deep breath through her nose, held it, then released it in one long exhale while her eyes were closed.

When they opened again, the panic beneath the irritation had dimmed. "It is just…"

She stopped.

"…"

"…"

Alaric did not interrupt.

Kassandra's thumb moved once against his throat. "This is the first time you have come back looking like this."

He glanced toward the pile of destroyed clothing. "That bad?"

"Yes."

"I've returned dirty before."

"You have returned dirty after destroying fleets."

"That sounds dramatic."

"You cut through the sea."

"Fair."

Kassandra stepped closer.

"I have watched you fight thousands of soldiers. I have seen you return from battles where entire formations ceased existing because you decided they were in your way…" Her expression tightened again, though this time the emotion beneath it was clearer. "Even then, you did not come home with your uniform looking as though someone repeatedly killed you in it."

Alaric's brows rose. "That is an aggressive interpretation."

"From what I can see, it's the best interpretation."

He considered the point… and unfortunately, it was.

Kassandra lowered her hand from his throat but did not move away.

"You disappeared for several days. You returned smiling. You scared me in my own office for amusement, hugged me like nothing happened, and then I turned around and saw this."

She gestured toward the ruined clothing.

"I know you heal."

Alaric nodded.

"I know you are difficult to kill."

Another nod.

"I know what the phoenix does, you explained that to me already."

That changed his expression slightly.

Kassandra knew only what Alaric had allowed her to know… that Phoenix Eternal Rebirth meant death did not function normally for him. Emberis's power had changed him so profoundly that even true death was no longer necessarily final.

Alaric took her hands. "Kassandra, I'm immortal."

She watched him.

"You know that," Alaric continued.

"Yes."

"If I die, I come back."

Her fingers tightened faintly around his.

"I can revive myself endlessly. Maybe not pleasantly, but permanently enough that death is more of an inconvenience than an ending."

The phrasing earned the smallest narrowing of her eyes.

Alaric smiled. "So you've got nothing to worry about."

Kassandra remained still.

Then she gave him a look so profoundly unimpressed that his smile faltered.

"What?" Alaric's brows raised a little.

"You really think that solves it."

"It solves the dying part."

"I am not worried about the dying part."

Alaric blinked.

Kassandra released one of his hands and touched the dried blood at the edge of his collarbone. "I am worried about this."

He looked down. "The blood?"

"The fact that you bled."

"Kassandra, I bleed fairly often," Alaric replied. "Well… if the opponent's strong."

"Not the point," She looked at him again. "You think because you cannot stay dead, watching you get hurt should suddenly become easy for everyone who loves you."

With that, Alaric became quiet.

Kassandra continued before he could answer.

"If a sword goes through you, I know you will heal. If your bones break, I know they will repair themselves. If something somehow kills you, apparently you will simply decide death is inconvenient and return."

A faint frustration entered her face. "But that does not mean I enjoy knowing you felt it."

Alaric's expression softened.

Kassandra placed her palm against his chest. "I am not worried that you will disappear forever every time you fight."

Her fingers spread over his heartbeat.

"I am worried because I am still your wife."

"…"

The room became quieter.

"…"

"…"

Kassandra's voice lowered.

"When you hurt, I care that you hurt. Immortality does not change that."

Alaric looked at her for several seconds… then his mouth curved.

Not the grin he used when teasing her. No, it was something gentler.

Kassandra saw the change and immediately became suspicious.

"What?"

Alaric leaned toward her.

He kissed her cheek once, making her blink.

Then he kissed the other.

"Alaric."

Another kiss landed near her temple.

"Stop."

He kissed her forehead.

A laugh tried to escape her despite herself.

Alaric caught the corner of her face again.

"Alaric!"

He kissed her cheek repeatedly until Kassandra shoved against his chest, though the force contained no real attempt to move him.

"Enough!"

"No," He kissed her again.

She turned her face away, laughing now. "You are impossible."

"That's why you married me."

"That was clearly an error in judgment."

Alaric wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the side of her face again.

Kassandra finally caught his jaw between both hands. "Stop moving."

Alaric raised a brow, but went still.

She stared at him while his smile remained.

Kassandra tried maintaining her stern expression, but it only lasted three seconds.

Then she sighed and kissed him properly, so Alaric's arms tightened around her as the ruined clothes remained forgotten on the chair.

For several moments, the world outside their room could handle itself.

When they finally separated, Kassandra kept one hand against his cheek. "You will tell me what happened."

"Eventually."

Her eyes narrowed. "Alaric."

"I just got home."

"That is not an exemption."

"I haven't even changed clothes."

"You barely have clothes left."

He glanced down at himself. "Good point."

Kassandra shook her head.

Alaric smiled before pulling her against him again.

This time, he simply rested his chin against the top of her head..

The familiar quiet returned between them.

After a while, Alaric looked toward the windows.

Philadelphia was fully awake beyond them.

Carriages moved through distant streets. The harbor was already busy. Pennmere's administrative machinery continued turning as though its ruler had not spent several days in another world fighting a resurrected legend, battling the Ten-Tails, becoming its final jinchūriki, resurrecting another dead Uchiha, and somehow employing Madara Uchiha before breakfast.

The contrast made him almost laugh.

Kassandra noticed the movement of his chest. "What now?"

"Nothing."

"That usually means something."

"Heh…" Alaric looked down at her. "How have things been going?"

Seeing Kassandra raising one eyebrow, he smiled. "I'm serious."

"You disappear for days, return dressed like the survivor of a naval explosion, refuse to explain what injured you, then immediately ask for work reports."

"I'm versatile."

"Just tell me you're avoiding the subject."

"A little."

That answer made Kassandra study Alaric while the latter made no effort to deny it.

Eventually, she stepped away and retrieved the ruined coat.

"This…" She held it up between two fingers. "…is being burned."

His face changed. "No."

"It is already mostly burned."

"It can be repaired."

Kassandra looked through one of the enormous holes. "By whom? Hephaistos?"

"I know people."

"You are not wearing this again."

"It has sentimental value now."

"It smells like death."

"That seems overly poetic."

Kassandra dropped it onto the chair, and Alaric immediately looked relieved that she had not carried out the threat.

She noticed. "I may still burn it."

"I'll hide it."

"I will find it."

"I have dimensions you cannot access."

"What?" Her face flattened. "That is cheating."

"Strategic storage."

Kassandra shook her head and walked back toward the door while Alaric followed, still shirtless.

She stopped with her hand on the latch and glanced behind her. "You are changing first."

"I thought you wanted to talk."

"I am not letting you walk around Kenway Keep looking like that."

Alaric glanced down at his bare chest.

"I've looked worse."

"Let's not normalize that."

He chuckled and crossed toward the wardrobe.

Kassandra watched him for another moment.

Healthy.

Relaxed.

Annoying.

Home.

That was enough for now.

Alaric selected a clean black shirt and began pulling it on.

"So," he said as his head emerged through the collar, "Oldgate and Avery are improving."

"Uh-huh," Kassandra leaned against the door. "They are."

"Anything else explode while I was away?"

"Not literally."

"Excellent."

Kassandra folded her arms before her expression became thoughtful as everything she had been handling over the previous few days reorganized itself in her mind.

There were the Vanguard reports.

The fleet.

The Spanish situation.

Product performance.

Several administrative matters Jonathan had already reduced to decisions only Alaric could make.

A handful of requests from people who had apparently assumed Kassandra knew when her husband would return.

She watched Alaric straighten the clean shirt.

Then she sighed.

"Well…"