Reincarnated Lord: I can upgrade everything!

Chapter 516: His Return

Asher’s eyes fluttered open, vision swimming before it sharpened on a pair of radiant emerald eyes, deep as forest canopies and alight with warmth.

They belonged to the most enchanting face he knew, his wife’s.

The first sensation that greeted him was the heat of a damp towel pressed gently against his bare chest, the faint scent of rose steam curling into his senses.

He rose slowly with a muted grunt, the motion stiff and unyielding, like a war machine long left dormant and only now coaxed back to life.

Sapphira, with a grace that seemed to belong to a dream, swept into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. Her silken hair, smelling faintly of rose, brushed against his neck as if to remind him she was real.

“You’re back,” she whispered, her voice trembling between relief and joy.

Asher shut his eyes, drawing her closer, his muscular arms wrapping around her with the protectiveness of a fortress wall.

Her silver gown shimmered faintly as the folds pressed against him, its cool smoothness a contrast to the warmth of her body, soft and yielding against the hardness of his frame.

“I am.”

Sapphira leaned back slightly, perhaps to speak, but stilled when she realized Asher had not loosened his grip. She blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, and opened her lips, only for him to shift suddenly, lying back against the bedding and pulling her with him in one smooth, unrelenting motion.

She toppled atop him, a startled squeal escaping her lips, the sound quick and delicate like a silver bell.

“Let’s remain like this for a while,” Asher murmured, his eyes still closed, the edges of his voice rough but softened by fatigue. Her body molded to his, her warmth seeping through him like a quiet fire, melting the iron weight of his burdens and carrying them away into nothingness.

After a while, Sapphira lifted her head, her silken hair spilling over Asher’s chest like a cascade of midnight silk. She remained draped lazily across him, her breath warm against his skin, and cupped the sides of his face with delicate hands. Her touch was slow, almost reverent, and her smile carried the kind of tenderness that could melt steel.

“How was your visit to the spirit realm?” she asked softly, her voice like the faint chiming of crystal.

“Got an arrow to the shoulder before the conversation even began with House Nubis,” Asher replied, his tone dry but edged with a lingering sting. “And that’s just the first noble house. Luckily, Lord Zenas will handle the rest from that front. I just have to rally the lords of the mortal realm.”

“Sacred Flame Emperor sent an envoy requesting your presence in the capital of his empire. Will you go there first before Cyrenia?”

Her response made Asher’s eyes snap open. The sharp, cutting gold of his gaze locked onto her like twin blades. “I told you I was shot and you didn’t even react?”

Sapphira’s lips curved into a faint scowl, her emerald eyes narrowing in mock irritation. “What’s an arrow shot to you? Nations are waiting at your feet, my king, stop whining over a scratch to the arm.”

Asher’s brows rose, the disbelief flickering in his eyes before he rolled her gently off him and sat up. The air between them shifted, his presence suddenly heavier, more commanding. From behind, he heard the faint rustle of silk as she slid up and draped herself across his back, her fingers trailing lightly over his shoulders. A sly chuckle escaped her lips, low and teasing.

“I thought you wanted to lie down?” she replied with wicked sweetness

“That was before,” he replied, half-snorting.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing herself close until her breath brushed against his ear, and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. “My lord, it won’t do you well to be furious at your subject…” Her face moved into his line of sight, her gaze gleaming with playful mischief. “…Especially one this beautiful.”

Asher clicked his tongue, a small sound of resigned annoyance, and rose to his feet. Sapphira sat back with an exaggerated pout, though her eyes glimmered with victory. No outsider would have believed that the immaculate, regal queen of Ashbourne, known across the realm for her flawless composure, could be so shamelessly impish. Nor would they imagine that this was what unfolded behind the guarded doors of the Blood King and the most beautiful queen in Tenaria, two figures spoke grandly or terrifyingly of in tales.

Clenching his fist, Asher strode to the tall, arched window, each step purposeful yet weighted with thoughts of his heart. He paused before the glass, letting his gaze spill over the sprawling vista beyond.

The city, suspended high above the world, seemed to breathe beneath the embrace of the morning light. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily, their edges tinged gold as they curled not far from the towers’ gleaming spires. The sunlight washed over the marble structures, casting soft halos around them, making the entire city seem like a dream forged from light.

On the bed, Sapphira’s emerald eyes followed him. She drank in the sight of her husband’s tall, unyielding figure, his broad shoulders bathed in the sun’s warmth. The glow crowned him in a radiance that blurred the line between mortal and divine; he stood there like a figure out of ancient legend.

She was so lost in that quiet reverence that she almost didn’t notice when he turned his head, the sharp elegance of his side profile revealed in the interplay of shadow and light. “It’s been a while since I held a sword,” he said, his voice steady yet laced with anticipation. “Where is Kingmaker, has he finished my blade?”

….

Rapid, uneven breaths filled the dimly lit chamber as Katarina jolted upright from her bed, the linen sheets tangled around her trembling legs. Cold sweat clung to her brow, trickling down her temples in thin rivulets. Her hands, pale and unsteady, groped for the silver cup on the bedside table, but her grip failed her. The cup slipped from her fingers, tumbling to the ground where it struck the stone floor with a sharp, ringing clatter that echoed off the walls.

At that sudden noise, the door slammed open with a force that rattled its hinges.