His eyes are glittering as he takes a few deep, grateful breaths, before turning to Kahl with a downright sheepish expression. "I know it's a lot to ask. He's not always this insufferable."

"Really." Asmodeus is quite literally fuming; the air ripples in a haze around him, and his hair is a river of flame. "Are those precious moments of reprieve enough, now that I don't wear your husband's face? Do you want to hear how I died, or shall I just - "

"Stop it, Asmodeus." It's a different tone, of course, grimly intent, but the quiet confidence remains. "You don't have to manipulate me into mourning you."