Dong—dong—

From the white-topped cathedral, the bell tower sent out a deep, lingering hum that startled the white pigeons perched along the railings. The little white spirits flapped their wings and rose into the sky, a few scattered feathers drifting down behind them.

A gentle breeze swept across the lush green meadow, flattening a patch of grass before carrying broken flower petals over the head of the figure standing outside the door.

He lowered his head to check his outfit. The pale formalwear had been pressed perfectly straight, without a single wrinkle. The shoes and short socks were the same color, his hair neatly groomed and smooth, and the silk scarf at his chest had been carefully tied into shape. Finally—

The small, simple pale-gold ring on the ring finger of his left hand. No problem.

He had worried at first that gold might look too tacky when they chose the rings, but since the main colors on both of them were silver-white, a little accent actually worked better. So he’d gone with it.

Mm. After all, it might be something he’d wear for the rest of his life. Better to be a little more careful.

He turned the ring slightly, then examined it again. Its smooth surface reflected his own face, touched with a hint of nervousness.

According to Milanía’s wedding traditions, all guests attending the ceremony had to wait at the venue, while the road leading to the ceremony had to be crossed by the groom alone.

Phew. That should do it.

After taking one last slow, deep breath, he placed both hands against the door and pushed hard—

Inside the bright, spacious cathedral, the band struck up a march that was joyful without losing its solemnity. The guests waiting on either side also turned their eyes toward him in unison, clapping enthusiastically with warm smiles.

From the main entrance to the prayer platform above the steps, a red wool carpet patterned with gold thread formed the path forward. At the end of it, the other star of the wedding had already been waiting for quite some time.

The wedding dress was the very one he had seen at Roger’s shop. The castle’s tailor had added a few finishing touches, too. The white dress wrapped around and outlined her beautiful waist, then opened naturally across her chest from the hem upward, blending perfectly into the color of her skin. Her bare shoulders had turned slightly red, perhaps because she’d been waiting too long and had grown cold.

“Sorry I’m a little late.”

Under everyone’s gaze, she crossed the red carpet and came before that lovely girl. She lifted the girl’s left hand, covered by a sheer glove, stepped forward, and kissed her shoulder.

“Er… Your Highness Tiran, according to the ceremony, you’re not allowed to kiss the bride yet…”

The priest officiating on the prayer platform froze for a moment, then awkwardly reminded her in a voice only those on the platform could hear.

But he had clearly misjudged the person in front of him. She didn’t care in the slightest, and she didn’t even acknowledge the quiet reminder. Instead, she boldly took her place beside the bride, raised an arm around the bride—who had already covered her face with both hands—and gave the priest a sidelong smile.

“This lady’s dragon can kiss her however she wants. Any problem with that?”

“I had no idea wearing a wedding dress in front of so many people would be this embarrassing…”

Aya lowered his head behind his hands while held in her arms, so embarrassed that he wished he could find a crack in the floor and crawl into it.

“Hehe, little one, you’re already aboard this lady’s pirate ship. You’re not thinking of backing out now, are you?”

Tiran raised an eyebrow at Aya, then waved to the priest, whom she had silenced with a single sentence. “Shall we continue?”

“Oh, oh, then…”

The priest sighed, composed himself, and looked toward Tiran. “Your Highness Tiran Elysian, do you take this man—”

As he said this, the priest carefully examined Aya once more. He’d already been given some information beforehand, but he still couldn’t help showing a look of astonishment.

“Do you take this man as your spouse? In sickness and in health, and for any other reason, will you love him…”

“I will.” Tiran answered crisply before the priest could even finish reciting the vows.

The muscles at the corners of the priest’s eyes twitched twice, but he ultimately swallowed his irritation. He turned back to Aya. “Then, Asterlitin…”

“I will…”

“I object—aaaaaah!!!”

The main doors were pushed open for the second time. This time, however, the newcomer was clearly much more agitated. A silver-haired, handsome man burst in, waving a longsword with tears streaming down his face. “Waaah, little Tiran, Daddy can’t bear to let you go!”

“Wait, what? Seriously?”

Seeing the performance of his future father-in-law, Aya panicked hard.

The guests fell deathly silent as well. This was the current king, after all. Even if he was disrupting the wedding, none of them dared to stop him.

And yet, even so, His Majesty the King failed to make it all the way over.

With a loud thunk, the princess’s mother raised the person-sized Magic staff in her hand and smiled as she waved at her daughter. Then she casually tossed the knocked-out king to the guards.

“Someone come help me drag my husband out~”

The wedding continued.

“Let the parents of both parties exchange their tokens.”

This was also an essential part of noble weddings in the West Land. Usually, the groom presented a sword or suit of armor as proof of his resolve to protect the family, while the bride handed over a set of scales as a symbol of “weighing matters inside and outside the household.”

Only, when it came to Tiran…

Aya stared at the washboard Vivian was holding, the corner of his mouth twitching violently.

“Come to think of it, where are your parents, Aya?”

Tiran glanced at the empty space behind Aya and asked with a sweet smile.

Dad and Mom? Them?

“Hahaha, with those two’s personalities, how could they possibly show up here? Your Highness, you’re overthinking it. Come to think of it, did I not tell you about them from the start?”

Just then, Aya sensed that something was wrong.

The main doors were pushed open for the third time.

A dazzling radiance suddenly blazed beyond the doors, as though the sun had risen over the meadow outside. Within the light, two figures cast long shadows through the glowing haze.

“Yo~ My dear son, your mom and dad have come to visit you!”

“Honey, do you see our son?”

“Hahaha, Ke’er, you’re joking again. Our son is right—huh? Daughter?”

The tall, handsome blond man who had burst into the venue hesitated as he pointed toward the prayer platform. He took two more steps forward, carefully looked Aya up and down, rubbed his chin, then turned around and glanced left and right.

There was no mistake. The Magic mark left on their own child showed that he was definitely here. But why couldn’t they find him?

Could it be…?

The man slowly turned around, his gaze returning to Aya.

“Hey, Aya, don’t run! Aren’t these your parents?!”

“I’m not! I didn’t! You’ve got the wrong person!”

The person in question turned and ran, only for Her Highness the Princess to seize the back of his wedding dress and hold him fast. He didn’t dare struggle too hard. If he tore it, the problem wouldn’t just be that his biological parents had discovered they’d raised a daughter when they’d actually given birth to a son.

…Er, well, even so, the situation was already bad enough. Making it any worse would only mean adding a few more lines to the disaster.

“Big brother!”

“Huh?!”

A resentful, childish voice came from behind the statue in front of them. A girl of around fifteen or sixteen stepped out from behind it, gripping a gleaming woodcutter’s axe and glaring fixedly at Aya.

“Wait, little sister, who are you supposed to be?!”

The girl shouted through her tears, her face streaked with them. “You clearly had a marriage contract promising you’d marry me! Why are you marrying this detestable woman?!”

“Hold on, I don’t even know you! You’ve definitely got the wrong person!”

“If I can’t have something, I’d rather destroy it than let some homewrecker have it!”

The girl’s lips curled high, revealing a chillingly unhinged smile. Like a lightning-fast leopard, she lunged forward with the axe and drove it cleanly into Aya’s lower abdomen.

“No way! Is this really how I die? This makes no sense!”

Aya’s body jolted violently, and he opened his eyes.

The bedroom ceiling was still above him. The princess lay quietly beside him, though her sleeping position was a little wild. One long leg had stretched right across Aya and was pressing down on him.

Aya reached out and pinched the girl’s thigh. Still asleep, the princess pushed him away in annoyance, though her leg moved off him in the process.

“Er… What kind of miraculous dream was that?”

Aya sat up, rubbed both cheeks with his hands, and turned his head from side to side to look around.

The room was still filled with the colors of night. Cold mountain wind kept slipping in through the window, which had been left open a crack, making the curtains rise and fall in waves like flags. Clear moonlight pressed in with the breeze as well, quietly telling the story of the night’s stillness.