[Current Balance: 22,711,927,899 R]
---
The grand hall of Kenway Keep was a sea of soft light and quiet elegance.
The chaos of the day's training and the political maneuvering of the past weeks had given way to a peaceful evening.
The air was filled with the gentle melody, the scent of Celestial Tea, and the low, comfortable hum of conversation. This was not a formal state dinner, but a private gathering, a moment for the core of their new nation to simply… be.
Suleiman and Helena had, with surprising ease, grown accustomed to this new life. They sat near a roaring fireplace, sipping wine and smoking the fine cigars Alaric had provided, the paradise they had found a distinct, welcome contrast to the hard, dangerous lives they had led.
William Penn and his family were also present, the Quaker leader engaged in a lively discussion with Reuben, Thulani, Leonard, Bernard, and Matteo, their talk a comfortable mix of philosophy, strategy, and the simple satisfaction of a shared cigar.
Kassandra sat with the other women, a picture of serene beauty. She gently caressed her stomach, a small, secret smile on her lips as she listened to Eleanor and Linette share stories of Alaric's and Edward's childhoods.
She looked around the room, at the powerful, principled men and the strong, intelligent women who now formed their inner circle. She thought of William Penn, a man whose influence could shape continents, and realized with a jolt of profound affection that Alaric, her Alaric, had drawn all these remarkable people together.
Everyone was dressed in their finest. Silks and velvets, fashionable gowns, and tailored three-piece suits. It was a gathering of the highest power, yet the atmosphere was one of family, of shared purpose and genuine affection.
Kassandra's gaze drifted across the room, searching for her husband. She saw him then, materializing from a flicker of displaced air in a shadowed corner near the grand staircase, a spot no one was looking at. She was about to smile, to catch his eye, but her breath caught in her throat. He wasn't alone.
Standing beside him was a man she didn't recognize, a man who was the complete antithesis of the opulent scene around them.
He wore a worn, brown, unbuttoned leather vest that exposed a tanned, muscular chest. A single leather bandolier was slung diagonally across his torso. His off-white linen trousers were stained with salt and sea, tucked into knee-high, weathered leather boots. A simple red sash was wrapped under a battered leather belt, and an orange strip of fabric was tied around his head, holding back a mane of sun-bleached blonde hair. On his upper right arm was a tattoo of a crown.
He looked rugged, dangerous, and utterly out of place. And yet… there was something familiar about him. He looked, Kassandra thought with a jolt, like a younger, wilder version of Bernard Kenway.
Her fixed gaze drew the attention of the other women. One by one, they turned, their own conversations faltering. Aveline gasped. Elizabeth's hand flew to her mouth. Then Reuben and Thulani saw him, their easy smiles vanishing. Leonard and Eleanor stood up.
And then, Bernard, Linette, and Caroline saw him.
"S-Son!"
"Edward!"
---A Few Minutes Ago, on the Shores of Nassau---
The night was dark, the only light coming from the distant, chaotic glow of the pirate town and the sliver of a moon hanging in the sky. Alaric stood on the quiet shore, the waves lapping at his boots.
"Well," he said, taking a final drag from his cigar. "You ready to meet your parents?"
"...Okay... fine, let's do it," Edward sighed, the sound a mixture of resignation and raw, nervous energy. "I don't know how you'll do it, though."
"Easy," Alaric smirked. He walked over to Edward and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't puke."
"Huh?"
It was the last word Edward managed to get out. He blinked.
One moment, he was standing on a dark, sandy beach, the smell of salt and rum in the air. The next, the world twisted, space folding in on itself in a nauseating, instantaneous lurch.
He was standing on a thick, plush carpet, surrounded by impossible luxury. The air was warm, filled with the scent of beeswax, tea, and fine food. Soft music drifted from somewhere nearby. He was in a palace.
"W-Where are w-" The question died in his throat as a violent wave of nausea hit him. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his stomach churning, his body rebelling against the impossible journey. "U-Ughhh!"
He doubled over, fighting the urge to vomit. After a few agonizing seconds, the feeling subsided, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He straightened up slowly, taking in his surroundings. He saw the faces then, the people he had spent the last three years trying to forget, the people he had dreamed of every lonely night at sea.
He saw William Penn, looking impossibly younger. He saw Thulani and Reuben, powerful and confident men. He saw Aveline, his wife's sister, now a beautiful, poised woman. He saw his uncle and aunt, his own mother and father, their faces etched with a shock that mirrored his own.
And then he saw her.
Caroline.
She was standing, her hand over her mouth, tears already streaming down her face. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and the sight of her, the reality of her, hit him with the force of a physical blow.
'...Caroline.'
"S-Son!"
"Edward!"
The cries from his parents, filled with a mixture of shock and overwhelming joy, finally broke the spell. He was home. And he was completely, utterly unprepared.
[System Currency Updated]
[Reales Converted To Pound Sterling...]
[22,711,927,899 R = £709,747,746 16s. 10d.]
[Conversion Fee: 11s. 2d.]
[Current Balance: £709,747,746 5s. 8d.]
---
The staff of Kenway Keep, trained by Alaric's clones to be more than mere servants, reacted with disciplined silence. They saw the sudden appearance of two men, one their master, the other a rugged stranger. They saw the raw, powerful emotions erupting from the family.
Jonathan Hugh, ever the professional, simply gave a subtle, silent gesture to the other staff, a command to hold their positions, to observe, to not interfere. They were soldiers in their own right, and this was a family matter.
Edward didn't know what to do. His mind was still reeling from the impossible journey, his stomach still churning. The next thing he knew, he was enveloped in the fierce, desperate hugs of his parents.
His mother, Linette, was sobbing into his chest, her hands clutching the rough leather of his vest. His father, Bernard, held him tight, his usual boisterous demeanor gone, replaced by a quiet, trembling relief.
But Edward's eyes were fixed over their shoulders, locked on one person.
Caroline.
She stood by a sofa, her hands clasped before her, tears tracing silent paths down her cheeks. She was filled with a joy so profound it was painful, but she held herself back, giving his parents their moment. She saw the way he looked at her, the shock, the longing, the confusion. And in that shared gaze, a silent conversation passed between them, a thousand unspoken words of regret, of hope, of love. She held his stare, her own gaze steady, a quiet strength in her that he didn't remember.
'Caroline's... changed,' Edward thought, as his parents finally, reluctantly, gave him space. He took a hesitant step forward, then another, his boots feeling heavy and clumsy on the fine carpet. He didn't know what to say.
He reached her, stopping a foot away. She stood up from the sofa, her eyes never leaving his. The silence stretched, thick with three years of pain and distance.
"Caroline... I'm ba-"
PAAAAAAHHHHH!
The sound was like a gunshot in the silent hall. Sharp, clean, and utterly shocking. Caroline's hand had moved in a blur, her palm connecting with his cheek with a force that snapped his head to the side.
A collective gasp went through the room. Alaric, who had been watching with a knowing smirk, felt his own eyes widen. He had expected tears, maybe some shouting, but the slap… that had some real power behind it.
Edward stood frozen, the sting on his cheek a fiery brand. He slowly turned his head back to face her, his own shock evident. But then he saw it. Her face was crumbling, the mask of strength dissolving into pure, unadulterated grief. Her body was shaking, and the tears she had held back were now a torrent.
He sighed, a slow, weary sound, and a sad, gentle smile touched his lips. He reached out, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight as she sobbed against his chest. "I'm sorry, Caroline," he whispered into her hair. "I'm here now."
She hugged him back fiercely, her face buried in his chest. "Two years, Edward," she choked out, her voice muffled by his vest. "That was your promise."
"I know... I know..." he soothed, stroking her hair. He winced as she, in a surge of grief and anger, delivered a surprisingly sharp uppercut to his ribs. He just held her tighter. "I love you, dear."
Alaric chuckled softly from the side. "Heh... this is a first."
"Shut up, 'Laric," Linette shot him a watery glare, though there was no real heat in it.
The Kenway family was finally, however briefly, whole again.
---
Hours later, the initial storm of emotion had passed. William Penn and his family had taken their leave after a warm, if slightly awkward, reunion with Edward. Alaric had introduced Kassandra, a development that left Edward momentarily speechless.
Now, in a private sitting room, away from the prying eyes of the staff, the real conversation began.
"What do you mean you're going to leave in three days!?" Caroline's voice was sharp, incredulous. She sat opposite him on a plush sofa, her tears dried but her eyes still holding a deep, painful hurt.
"Yeah," Edward said, looking down at his hands. He sighed, then met her gaze, his own eyes filled with a stubborn, frustrating pride. "I still haven't got it, Caroline."
"Remember my promise?" he continued, his voice low but firm. "Food that doesn't make us sick, walls that hold back the wind. A decent life. That I'll be a man of quality... with a thousand Doubloons spilling from my pockets like drops of rain."
"..." Caroline stared at him, then let out a short, humorless laugh. She looked down at her own fine silk dress, at the luxurious room around them. "We already have food and walls that kings would kill for. A thousand doubloons? Edward, I have so much wealth now that a thousand doubloons is mere pocket change."
Edward's head snapped up, his pride clearly wounded. "But it's not mine! It's William Penn's! Our family is just living under his charity, under William Penn's protection! Didn't you listen to what your father said about us!? I'm trying to break that chain!"
Caroline's face crumpled, the tears returning. "Why can't you just stay here, Edward?" she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Why chase something so dangerous? Why leave me? Why leave our daughter, Jennifer!?"
"..."
"..."
"...What did you say?" Edward's voice was a hoarse whisper. He stared at her, his own pride, his ambition, completely forgotten. "D-Did you say... our daughter?"
Wiping her eyes, Caroline slowly nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "I was pregnant when you left to become a privateer."
Edward's world tilted on its axis. He stared at her, his eyes wide with a shock so profound it left him breathless. A daughter. He had a daughter.
"C-Can you tell me," he finally managed, his voice trembling, "what happened? All these years?"
"..." Caroline looked at him, then down at her hands. "A lot has happened, Edward."
He saw the pain in her eyes, the years of hardship and fear she had endured alone. He saw the strength she had found, a strength he had never known. And in that moment, his own selfish quest for fortune felt like a hollow, childish dream.
"I'll listen," he said, his voice filled with a new, desperate urgency. "It doesn't matter if it takes days, weeks, or months. Tell me everything."
He had promised to be gone in three days. But as he looked at his wife, at the ghost of the daughter he had never known, he knew. He wasn't going anywhere.
"Then..." Caroline began, a fragile, hopeful light returning to her eyes. "Do you remember the castle back in Bristol?"
Edward thought about it, then nodded his head. "Ah, William Penn's... the one where we were allowed to live temporarily due to us working on the farm."
"The Castle in Bristol wasn't Penn's," Caroline said quietly. "It was Alaric's. He was already wealthy, even then. The farm, the land… it was all his."
Edward stared, his mind struggling to process the information. "What? But… I thought…"
"And your parents were always supportive of us, Edward," she continued, her voice soft but firm. "They were just afraid of my father. They loved you."
"..." Edward couldn't say anything. He really hated his parents for disagreeing with his decision to marry Caroline back then.
"The day you sailed away from Bristol to become a privateer," Caroline sighed, her palms on top of her knees. "Alaric offered me to live in the Kenway Castle, and I accepted. Your parents welcomed me with a warm smile and embrace. They showered me with love. They made me felt that I was their daughter."
She told him about the Celestial business, how Alaric had made her the manager of the Celestial Tea brand, how she had partnered with Aveline to keep the Scott family business alive. As she spoke, a dawning, sickening realization spread across Edward's face. The miracle products that were the talk of every port, the source of unimaginable wealth… it was all Alaric.
'So that day when he gave me the Celestial Salve...' Edward thought, remembering the time when he was readying the supplies for ship named The Emperor back in 1712. '...damn, forget a thousand doubloons, my cousin's damn opulent.'
"And then," Caroline's voice dropped, a shadow crossing her features, "a few days after you sailed, my father was killed. By Templars."
"Templars?" Edward asked, confused. "What are Templars?"
Caroline looked at him, and in her eyes, he saw a depth of pain and knowledge that he couldn't begin to understand. She shook her head. "That's… a story for another time."
She took a shaky breath. "And then, in June of 1713… Jennifer was born." She looked up at him, her gaze direct, her voice barely a whisper. "She was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen."
Edward's heart sank, a cold, heavy weight of guilt settling in his gut. He had been a bad father. A bad husband.
Caroline saw the look on his face, the self-loathing. "It's okay," she said softly. "You didn't know."
She then told him of her decision to leave Bristol, of chartering ships with Penn and her family to start a new life in Philadelphia. She spoke of her fascination with the Iroquois, of her trade for knowledge, and then her voice faltered.
"I… I found something there, Edward," she whispered, her eyes filling with a new, terrifying kind of tear. "Two… Apples of Eden."
"Apples of what?" he asked, leaning forward, his own troubles forgotten in the face of her sudden distress.
She shook her head, a sob catching in her throat. "I… I can't," she choked out, the tears now streaming down her face. "I can't talk about it. It's… too much." She looked at him, her eyes pleading. "Ask Alaric. He… he can tell you."
Edward was at a loss. He reached out, pulling her into his arms as she cried, a deep, shuddering grief that he didn't understand but felt in his very soul. 'Apples of Eden… that sounds dangerous.'
Suddenly, a soft knock at the door made them both jump. It opened a crack, and Bernard peeked his head in. "Ah… sorry," he said, seeing the scene. "I thought it was a good time to talk. I'll come back later." The door clicked shut.
Edward held Caroline for a long moment, letting her cry. When her sobs finally subsided, he pulled back slightly, his own eyes filled with a new, desperate resolve. "Caroline," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Can… can I see her? Our daughter?"
Caroline looked up at him, and through the tears, a small, fragile smile appeared. She nodded, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet, leading him out of the room.
As he followed her down the grand, silent corridor, a single, disquieting thought echoed in his mind.
'Now that I think about it... is this house, this palace... is this Alaric's too?'
---
Hours had passed. The initial, tumultuous storm of reunion had given way to a quiet, fragile peace.
Edward now sat in a comfortable armchair in the gazebo at the back of the mansion, a place Alaric had told him to meet him after he'd had time to process everything. The night was cool, the air filled with the gentle chirping of crickets.
He had met his daughter.
The memory was a raw, beautiful ache in his chest. Caroline had led him to a quiet nursery, where a small, sleeping form lay in a beautifully carved wooden crib. Jennifer. She was perfect. Tiny fingers curled into a fist, a dusting of blonde hair on her head. He had reached out a trembling hand, his calloused, scarred fingers gently stroking her soft cheek. She had stirred, her small mouth making a soft noise, and in that moment, Edward's world had shifted on its axis. His quest for gold, for glory, for a "man of quality" status… it all felt noyhing anymore.
He had stayed there for hours, just watching her sleep, a profound, overwhelming love filling the empty spaces in his soul.
Now, he waited. He needed answers. And he knew there was only one person who had them.
"Do you smoke?"
Edward looked up. Alaric stood at the entrance to the gazebo, a lit cigar held loosely between his fingers, the smoke curling into the night air.
"No, I don't," Edward shook his head.
"Eh, you'll smoke soon enough," Alaric smirked, walking over and sinking into the elegant sofa-chair opposite him. They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the chirping of the crickets.
"How did you do that, 'Laric?" Edward finally asked, his voice low. "Don't think I could forget about us suddenly being here in a split-second."
Alaric took a slow drag from his cigar, blowing a perfect smoke ring that dissipated into the darkness. "It's one of my abilities," he said, his tone casual. "Don't bother prying. You'll understand it sooner or later."
"..." Edward stared at his cousin, then sighed. He knew a brick wall when he saw one. "Fine. How about this house… is this yours?"
"...It's the family's," Alaric replied, crossing his long legs. "But if you're just asking if I'm rich, then yes."
An eyebrow from Edward twitched. "How rich?"
"..."
"..."
Seeing the genuine curiosity in his cousin's eyes, Alaric pretended to think, tapping his cigar against the ashtray. "Hmm... well, I guess... enough to make several kings bow to my money?"
Edward's eyes widened, but he quickly schooled his expression. "That much, aye? If what you say is true, why go to war with Britain? You even have five hundred thousand pounds on your head."
"Oh?" Alaric's brows rose before he chuckled. "I forgot you pirates always read the bounty posters."
"..."
"Fine," Alaric sighed, taking one last drag before setting the cigar aside. "I reckon the letters didn't spread out from Bristol, did they?"
"What letters?"
"Never mind," Alaric shook his head. He then proceeded to explain everything, his voice a low, steady murmur in the quiet night. He told Edward of the deal with Queen Anne, of the forty thousand Celestial Salves, of the brief, prosperous peace in Bristol. He told him of the new King, of the Crown's betrayal, of the army sent to crush their new way of life, and of the bloody, one-sided battle that had followed.
"And after that," Edward finished for him, his voice grim, "you and the family ran here, to Philadelphia."
"You got it right," Alaric nodded, a flicker of approval in his eyes.
"...That's a lot to take in," Edward sighed, looking down at his hands. His family had been at the center of a political firestorm, a war, while he had been chasing shadows in the Caribbean.
"Tell me," he said, his voice low and serious, "what are Assassins and Templars? And these 'Apples of Eden' Caroline mentioned… she couldn't talk about them. Something tells me they're dangerous."
"Oh boy," Alaric raised his brows, a slow, almost weary smirk spreading across his face. "If you think that was a lot to take in, you're in for a rollercoaster."
"...What's a rollercoaster?"
Sigh.
.
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