"My dear~"

"Hmm?"

The first rays of dawn spilled into the bedroom. Violette lay on her side beneath the covers, softly calling to her beloved.

Jetri answered with a tender, smiling voice.

Her silky golden hair spilled across the pillow. Their quiet voices filled the room with serene warmth.

Jetri reached out, stroking the golden strands beside him, his gaze soft.

"Nothing... just wanted to call you~" Violette murmured, nuzzling the Sage’s hand with sleepy contentment.

"Mm." Jetri hummed softly in reply.

"Shall we sleep a little longer?" he asked gently.

"Only if my dear will lend me his arms~"

Jetri chuckled, pulling Violette into his embrace with indulgent affection.

Violette beamed, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

"Vivi, what kind of wedding would you like?"

"A wedding..." Violette sighed happily, thinking for a moment. "Anything is fine~"

"Anything, huh..." Jetri’s smile held a faint, wry edge.

*Anything* was the most terrifying answer of all...

*Never mind.*

He shook his head with a helpless smile, watching her gaze up at him, radiant.

"You... weren’t we supposed to sleep?"

"You’re too handsome, my dear. If I sleep, I can’t look at you~"

"Won’t I appear in your dreams?" Jetri teased.

"Every day feels like a dream already. I don’t even dream at night anymore~" Violette giggled, sweet as honey.

"Really?" Jetri pinched her delicate nose playfully.

Violette squeezed her eyes shut, grinning as she shook her head. "Reeal~"

"Fine. Stare all you like. I’m sleeping." Jetri kissed her forehead, then closed his eyes for good.

Violette’s sapphire eyes blinked slowly, fixed on his peaceful face.

The room smelled of comfort and safety. The man holding her radiated a calm that settled deep in her bones.

Bathed in the warm dawn light slipping through the curtains, her eyelids grew heavy.

Soon, her breathing deepened, slow and even.

Jetri opened his eyes, amused. After watching Violette’s tranquil face for a while, he finally closed them again.

...

"My dear~ Aren’t we wasting too much time like this?" Violette hugged Jetri from behind as he cooked—breakfast or lunch, it was hard to say—peering playfully at his profile.

"Do you think so?" Jetri replied casually, a smile in his voice.

The kitchen held traces of cooking smoke, but magic was a handy tool. Ever since he noticed Violette loved clinging to him while he cooked, Jetri had set up a fourth-tier wind spell: *Exhaust Hood*.

Though the faint scent of home cooking lingered, Violette adored it.

It made her believe she could spend a lifetime walking slowly beside this man.

"My dear is *soooo*~ good~" Violette declared, watching him cook with focused tenderness. She nuzzled his cheek with her golden hair.

"Good girl." The Sage freed one hand to ruffle her hair.

"My dear, for our wedding... should we invite your friends?" Violette grinned mischievously.

"What friends..." Jetri knew exactly what she was teasing him about.

"Of course you have some!" Violette chirped. "They just all became ex-girlfriends~"

"Ouch. Not exes. They never agreed to date me. You’re my first and only love." Jetri said it offhandedly.

He didn’t mind her poking old wounds. In fact, he was glad to see her shedding the dangerous, white-cut-black Holy Maiden persona, returning to her silly-sweet, sunshine self.

"My dear is so smooth..." Violette had to admit, his words made her heart flutter.

Happier than yesterday, even.

Content, she nestled into the Sage’s shoulder.

Then opened her mouth and playfully nipped his neck.

A tiny, ticklish sensation. Jetri glanced down at her, smiling helplessly.

He said nothing.

"So... shall we invite them?" Violette looked up, still grinning.

"No need..." Jetri truly didn’t care. He just wondered what Violette wanted. "Unless *you* want to?"

"A little bit~" Violette wrapped her slender arms around his neck, holding up delicate fingers pinched together. "*This* much."

"Then send an invitation." Jetri’s voice held no hesitation, only warmth as he looked at her.

"But the wedding might turn into chaos, you know?" Violette teased.

"If that’s what makes you happy, then so be it. Weddings are for joy, after all." Jetri shrugged, utterly unconcerned.

"Ah! My dear is the best!"

"Of course."

*God only knew what faces Princess Delan, the Half-Elf, and Aelons Kingdom’s current Sword Hero—King Veya Pendragon—would make when they received their wedding invitations.*

*Killing wasn’t enough; he had to break their hearts too?*

*How terrifying...*

But that was far from Jetri’s mind.

If Vivi wanted it, he’d send one. Besides, he doubted they’d actually come.

He’d been furious back then.

Thinking of it still irked him.

*What made them think they were too good for me?*

Still, irritation aside, he was prepared if they did show up.

So, some time later, in Hanover Palace within the Delan Capital, a letter arrived.

"Your Highness, a letter for you."

"A letter?" Victoria frowned slightly. "For me?"

She couldn’t recall anyone writing to her lately.

"Yes," the attendant bowed, presenting the envelope with both hands. "From the Sage."

"The Sage..." The Delan Princess didn’t immediately place the title. Then her lake-blue eyes widened. "*Jetri?*"

"Yes."

"I see." Victoria took the letter. "You may go."

"Yes, Your Highness."

After the attendant closed the door, the Delan Princess opened the letter.

No pleasantries. No small talk. Just an invitation.

Victoria stared at the glaring wedding invitation. Her lake-blue eyes trembled as if shattering. Her body swayed.

The invitation burned in her vision.

Like mockery. Like an accusation.

Her crimson lips quivered. Slowly, she slipped the invitation back into its envelope.

A tear slid down her cheek.

She curled forward, hugging her knees, sobbing.

After a long while, her voice, thick with tears, echoed in the room.

"Prepare for travel. I’m going to the Eastern Continent."

The attendant asked no questions. "As you command."

A similar letter arrived at the manor of the Half-Elf.

Lilith had been frustrated lately. The Forest Kingdom’s pure-blooded, pointy-eared nobles—who once scorned her—now desperately wanted her to inherit the throne.

Even after her father repeatedly refused their envoys, they kept harassing her.

So when this letter arrived at the House of Thorns manor, the Duke assumed it was another nuisance from those pointy-eared fools. He opened it reluctantly, irritation simmering—until he saw the sender’s name.

*Richard Jetri.*

A name not entirely unfamiliar.

His daughter’s former teammate. The human Sage who’d eloped with the ex-Holy Maiden.

He handed the letter to his daughter without comment.

"Richard Jetri’s letter." He gave her space to read.

Lilith’s expression remained cold, yet a flicker of something vulnerable crossed her face as she held the envelope.

She knew what it likely contained. Still, a sliver of hope made her open it.

The wedding invitation glared back at her.

Her crimson eyes wavered violently.

She shoved it back into the envelope, then pulled it out again, as if the words might change.

They didn’t.

Grief, regret, guilt—raw and fresh—surged through her.

Lilith buried her face and sobbed uncontrollably, her legs buckling beneath her.

Later, the Duke of Thorns watched his red-eyed daughter stand before him. When she choked out her plan to travel to the Eastern Continent, he understood instantly.

He sighed.

"Go, then. Be safe."

"Ask Princess Victoria. You might travel together."

"...Mm." Lilith nodded silently.

The letter to Delan arrived before the one to Aelons.

But not by much.

Especially the one rushed to the current King of Aelons—the "Golden Lion," Veya Pendragon.

Veya opened the envelope expressionlessly.

Saw the invitation.

Turned it over in her hands, still blank-faced.

"My old friend invites me to his wedding," she said lightly, addressing her Chancellor—the executor of her will, and the calm, ever-stoic pillar of Aelons Kingdom. "Should I go?"

The Chancellor’s face remained impassive. "I am unworthy to sway Your Majesty’s will."

"I see." Veya smiled faintly.

"Then I shall go."

"Your will be done." The Chancellor bowed deeply.

Jetri had no idea his wedding would throw the entire "Jinxibei" into chaos.

He was too busy personally arranging every detail of the venue.

Notably, Violette sent an invitation to the Church.

Celine stared at the invitation from her sister, her expression complex. After a long sigh, she ordered preparations for her own journey to the Eastern Continent.

So this time, one man’s wedding would trigger an earthquake across both Central Land and the Eastern Continent.