Chapter 897: How Was Your Night With My Husband?

The morning sun cast pale golden light across the winding pathways of the Holyfield mines, though you would hardly know it from the atmosphere.

In the distance, the familiar thunder of explosions rumbled like a constant heartbeat—spells detonating against monster hide, the crash of steel meeting claw, the occasional roar of an ogre who had just felled something particularly troublesome.

The chaos was ever-present, something the residents had long since learned to treat as background noise.

Cassius walked near the front of the group, surrounded by soldiers who were laughing at something he’d just said.

"—and that’s when I realized the ’ancient artifact’ I’d been hired to retrieve was actually just a very old chamber pot."

Cassius finished, spreading his hands.

"The noble who commissioned me was furious. Tried to have me arrested. But the merchant’s guild ruled in my favor—apparently, ’antiquity’ is a subjective term, and a three-hundred-year-old piss pot technically qualifies."

"That’s the greatest defense I’ve ever heard." The wolf-kin wheezed.

"It’s the truth." Cassius said cheerfully. "And the truth is the greatest defense of all. That, and having very good lawyers."

The soldiers roared with laughter.

They were heading toward the Intelligence Department, the nerve center of the operation.

Its head was Evander Drakostos, Ragnora’s right-hand man. In the sprawling bureaucracy of the Holyfield Mines, Evander was not merely an administrator; he was the master of order.

From deployment strategies and weapon allocations to ration distribution and even the rotation schedules for cleaning latrines, Evander controlled every cog in the machine. Without his iron grip on logistics and intelligence, the entire fortress would collapse into anarchy within hours.

Evander had requested this meeting personally. He was known for his deep-seated distrust, preferring to vet new variables himself rather than relying on second-hand reports.

He wanted to look into the eyes of the stranger who had captured Ragnora’s attention and gauge if Cassius possessed the competence to warrant such favor.

Behind them all, trailing at a slight distance, Ragnora watched Cassius with an expression caught somewhere between bewilderment and something far more complicated.

’He’s acting like nothing had happened. How can he do that?!’

Her inner voice screeched in utter, panicked disbelief.

’How is he walking around, cracking jokes and smiling like a pristine youth, as if...as if last night didn’t even happen?!’

They had spent the entire night wrapped in each other’s presence! He had polished her horns! He had massaged her scalp!

He had wrapped his arms tightly around her bare waist in a deep, passionate embrace, murmuring intoxicating compliments that still made her blood boil!

She had practically melted into his chest like a helpless maiden!

Yet there he was—breezy, unbothered, and entirely composed.

Meanwhile, Ragnora felt as if she were walking on a bed of hot coals. Every time a passing guard saluted her, her heart slammed into her ribs, a cold sweat breaking out across her back.

’Do they know? Can they tell by looking at me?!’

’Can they see that their mighty Commander was paid-for head-pats and romantic hand-holding until dawn?!’

If anyone asked her whether she regretted it, she would internally scream No! a thousand times over.

The memory of his warmth, his gentle hands, and the overwhelming feeling of being cherished was something she would treasure until her dying breath.

But the sheer, crushing weight of guilt was currently gnawing her soul to pieces.

’And then there’s...’

Her eyes drifted to Isabelle, who was currently giggling beside two female ogre guards, her delicate face glowing with enthusiasm.

Ragnora’s stomach twisted into a painful knot.

’How could you do this, Ragnora?’ She berated herself severely. ’You vile, shameless woman! Isabelle idolizes you! She looks up to you like a shining beacon of honor, and you...you spent the night indulging in romantic games with her betrothed!’

’What would she think if she knew?!

Cassius had insisted Isabelle wouldn’t mind, but Ragnora’s ironclad sense of justice refused to accept such an absurd premise. The guilt became entirely unbearable.

Unable to take it for another second, Ragnora deliberately slowed her stride, letting her long legs fall back until she was walking alongside Isabelle.

Brenda, noticing her Commander stepping down, immediately saluted and ushered the other guards forward, giving the two women privacy.

Now alone, Ragnora felt a sudden paralysis. She could inspire thousands of warriors to charge into hellfire without blinking, but standing next to Isabelle, she felt like a chicken with its head cut off.

She opened her mouth, intending to confess, to apologize, to explain—but before she could form a word, Isabelle’s face lit up with starry-eyed excitement.

"Commander! Tell me everything! How was it? How was your night with my husband? Did you enjoy it? Did you get to experience all the things you’ve been dreaming of? Was he gentle? Was he kind? Did he—"

"Wait—" Ragnora tried to interject, but Isabelle was already barreling forward.

"—did he bully you at all? Because I need to know. Sometimes he can be a little too aggressive, a little too teasing, and I keep telling him that not every woman appreciates that sort of thing—"

She paused, a slight blush creeping across her cheeks.

"Well, I appreciate it. Quite a lot, actually. When he gets assertive, it’s rather..." She fanned herself with one hand. "But that’s beside the point! Did he treat you well? If he didn’t, I’ll march right over there and pull his ears until he apologizes."

Ragnora finally managed to find her voice. "He...he didn’t bully me."

"Oh, good." Isabelle beamed.

"And..." Ragnora hesitated. "You...you already know? About last night? About everything?"

"Of course I know! Cassius told me the moment he came back home." Isabelle waved a dismissive hand, as though the matter were entirely mundane. "He gave me a full report. And I must say, Commander, I didn’t expect you to start with hand-holding. Most people jump straight to the passionate stuff, but you took the slow, romantic approach. I respect that immensely."

"You...You know about the hand-holding?"

"And the hugs. And the horn-polishing—oh, I would have loved to see that! Your horns looked absolutely magnificent this morning, by the way, positively gleaming. He did a wonderful job."

Isabelle mimed the polishing motion with an imaginary cloth.

"And the cooking! He said you made a berry cake together. Was it delicious? It sounded delicious. He described it in such detail that I made him promise to bake one for me when we get home."

Ragnora felt her face burning. "Isabelle, I—"

"And the compliments!" Isabelle continued, utterly undeterred. "He told me he spent nearly half an hour just telling you how beautiful you are. Which you are, by the way. Magnificently beautiful! I’ve always thought so, but I’m glad someone finally said it to your face."

She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"Though he did mention you tried to argue with every single compliment. Commander, you really must learn to accept praise. It’s quite unbecoming for someone of your stature to be so modest."

"I was not—I didn’t—"

"Oh! And the dancing!" Isabelle clasped her hands together. "He said you danced together in the living room. Just the two of you. With no music except the fire."

She let out a dreamy sigh. "That’s so romantic. I’m almost jealous. My husband and I dance together all the time, of course, but there’s something special about a first dance, don’t you think?"

"That moment when you’re not quite sure where to put your hands, and you keep stepping on each other’s toes, and then suddenly it just...clicks. And you’re moving together like you’ve been doing it your whole life."

Ragnora stared at her in utter dismay before finally asking, "You’re...not angry?"

"Angry? Why would I be angry?"

"Because I...because we..." Ragnora struggled to find the words.

Her massive hands fidgeted at her sides, fingers twisting together in an utterly un-commander-like display of nerves.

"Isabelle, I spent the entire night with your husband. I paid him to hold my hand. To embrace me. To...to do things that should only be shared between a man and his wife. And you’re asking me if the cake was delicious?"

"Was it?"

"That’s not—" Ragnora let out a frustrated breath. "Isabelle. Please. Be honest with me. Do you truly not mind what we did? Do you not feel even a flicker of anger? Of jealousy? Of...anything negative toward me?"

Isabelle’s blue eyes were earnest and unwavering.

"Commander." She said, still chuckling. "Do you want to know what I felt when Cassius came home and told me everything?"

Ragnora nodded hesitantly.

"Happiness." Isabelle squeezed her hand. "Pure, uncomplicated happiness. Because all my life, I’ve heard stories about you—about the great Commander Ragnora, who protects everyone, who fights monsters, who never asks for anything in return."

"And ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wondered: what could I possibly do for someone like her? How could I ever repay even a fraction of what she’s done for the world?"

She looked up at Ragnora with shining eyes.

"And then last night, my husband came home and told me that he had finally been able to help you. That through him, I had given you something you’d been denied your entire life. That I had made my idol happy!"

Her voice cracked slightly.

"Do you have any idea what that meant to me? I was practically dancing around the guest house! I wanted to run over and hug you right then and there."

"Happy." Ragnora repeated, as though the word were foreign to her. "You were...happy?"

"Ecstatic. Overjoyed. Absolutely thrilled!" Isabelle beamed up at her. "Commander, your happiness is my happiness. If my husband can give you even a fraction of the joy you’ve given others, then I will happily share him with you! A thousand times over, if that’s what it takes!"

Ragnora felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back furiously, but Isabelle had already noticed.

"Commander, are you—"

"I’m fine." Ragnora managed, her voice thick. "I’m...I’m grateful. More grateful than I can express. You have no idea what last night meant to me."

"I think I have some idea." Isabelle’s smile was warm. "Now then. Enough heavy talk. I have a very important question for you."

"What is it?"

Isabelle glanced around conspiratorially, then leaned in so close that Ragnora had to stoop down to hear her.

"How was my husband? Specifically. In detail."

Ragnora was taken aback "I...what do you mean?"

"I mean, how good was he at...you know." Isabelle made a vague gesture. "The romantic stuff. The wholesome stuff. The hand-holding and the hugging and the head-patting."

"Was he smooth? Was he charming? Did he make your heart flutter like a maiden in a romance novel?"

Despite herself, Ragnora felt a smile tugging at her lips. "He was...remarkably skilled."

"I knew it!" Isabelle pumped her fist. "Tell me more."

Ragnora hesitated, but the earnest curiosity in Isabelle’s eyes was disarming. And after carrying the guilt alone all morning, there was something almost liberating about discussing it openly.

"He was..." Ragnora struggled to articulate it. "He knew exactly what to do. At every moment. Whenever I felt nervous or awkward, he would say some silly joke or reassuring word and suddenly everything would feel natural again. He made me feel like I wasn’t being foolish for wanting these things. Like I deserved to experience them."

"That’s my husband." Isabelle’s voice was warm with pride. "No one can match him when it comes to treating a woman the way she deserves to be treated."

Ragnora nodded. "It was...it was like being a child again. A frightened child going to see a doctor, terrified of what was about to happen. But then the doctor turns out to be kind. Gentle. Understanding. And no matter how scary the procedure might seem, he talks you through it in such a way that you feel no pain at all. Only relief. Only comfort."

Isabelle beamed. "That’s a beautiful way to put it."

But then her expression shifted, and a more devilish look appeared on her face.

"But Commander." She said slowly. "Don’t think everything’s over."

"What do you mean?"

Isabelle glanced around, then whispered. "Lift me up for a second. I don’t want your soldiers to hear this." ℴ

Confused but curious, Ragnora bent down and gently scooped Isabelle into her arms, lifting her until the smaller woman was sitting on her forearm carried like a child. It was an adorable sight, the massive Commander holding the delicate Isabelle as if she weighed nothing at all.

Isabelle leaned close to Ragnora’s ear and whispered,

"My husband may be good at giving hugs and head pats and making any woman feel warm and fluffy all over. But you know what he’s even better at?"

Ragnora’s heart began to race. "What?"

Isabelle’s voice dropped even lower. "Making a woman satisfied in bed."