"Will you take this man as your faithful consort through the power of his rib?" The princess-bishop cites to the chieftess.
"I do."
"Guan? Will you take this woman, Anda of Kehina, as your mistress and will vow your plight to her forever?"
"I do."
The altar ladies plunge their hands from my behind as they extract a bone from my ribcage. To the progress of my recuperation, they stitch the wounds while performing a healing art towards the injured part.
"And I announce you, as a wife and one of her husbands, as master and her servant." The princess-bishop declares, as the crowd forms a round of applause.
I am yours alone, Lady Anda, being part of your harem is a great pleasure bestowed upon me for an ill-refugee from Inglovia.
I stood in front of the crowd which demanded an audience and implied: "As the fifth consort of Princess Anda of the House of Carylle, I label myself as the vanguard of her royal court."
Hoisting my fist, as I instigate another clamor from the crowd. The crescendo continues, and this is where I stole a kiss from the lips of Lady Anda. The reaction is distinct, most of them cheered for my brazen action towards the Princess, her family gasped out of surprise startling them as they oversaw the occurrence, while the harem were clapping their hands with ardent pace but I know in the depths of those contemptuous gaze they abhor it.
The Princess was perplexed as she inquired: "Why the hell did you do that? For a peasant like you, you are pretty ballsy." whispering through my ears after the kiss was made.
I don't know what she really means but I am quite satisfied with what happened. She may be mad but she didn't try to reprimand me, but that did not matter because her heterochromic eyes gazed upon me. Her left eye is brown which I am over-obsessed with but her right eye is light green which incurs a seductive leer into my irises.
The wedding is the assurance bond with me and Lady Anda. Now, I can convey different antics unto her, it’s liberating - as what the pact made has offered. The marriage is now complete.
Born in a serfdom of pestilence. Hailed from another 'Inglovia' yet with a different ruler of the contemporary such as from my original birthplace. The emperor is Llewellyn McDylan, first of his name - TŷLlewellyn. The last occurrence that transpired is Aaron IV of the House of Adamantium when I was still a young squirt. Until then, I am oblivious or even do care about who succeeded the throne since Aaron IV was the last to rule the Adamantium Dynasty as per stipulated by the decree of the 'Inglovian Elective Succession'.
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For 'tis my home was named Siscär and it was the main hub for trading centre of the previous Imperial capital. Siscär has the esteemed and well-known abandoned lighthouse at the core of the city. 'Lightheim' covers almost the vicinity within the shores of Inglovia in the days of old during its functionality. Thus, in this alternative; coincides with the same coordinates of the known maps of Inglovia and has the similar landmark, 'Lightheim'. Lo and behold, the name of the town is Eisschrein. Which means 'Ice' and 'Synagogue'. It held with a distinct lore. My Siscär prides herself as the most flourishing city for the past hundred years. On the other hand, Eisschrein is the most prominent pilgrimage of emancipation - all distinct faiths practice their beliefs in concordance. Senescent, hypermodernists, scholars, and theorists argue still the existence of the foundation of Eisschrein.
"My fellow consorts, the prospects are still unclear. I wish we may all live in harmony. As men, and as the servants of Lady Anda." I claim with a stout bellow.
"Hurrah!" exclaiming in unison.
Four of the aforementioned individuals raise their hands in a clenched fist. Half of them are reluctant and the others are ardent to respond to my cry. And as I follow them as well by putting my fist up high.
"Friends; brothers and sisters. Sorority under the banner of Kehina. May you send us hope and good wishes towards our wedding." I beseech them.
The crowd raves the whole place blessing us all. Flowers are fluttering in the midst of the air. The birds are flocking towards us - the queen as well as me. Coins are clattering in a jovial tune on the pavement. And all, praises as to exalt our marvelous hour of the day.
On an abrupt occasion, a lady who sports in an exquisite bridled hair and wears in a rather skimpy plate - an armor that is too revealing for a patriarchy standards and a skirt exhorting lust for the flesh. As she encroaches the venue. Walking in the middle of the aisle.
She is holding I yet to assume to be a missive on her hand. It sounds contentious. She utters not a word howbeit, her face tells a lot deriving the fact that how pallid and haggard her get up is. She strides towards the Queen of Kehina, Lady Anda, in a graceful fashion. The lady soldier confronts Lady Anda interrupting the wedding in the process.
"May this sacrament, as the overseers witnessed, uphold this union into fruition. Thus, I announce these two individuals may live in the account of the Mediator's desire!" The princess-bishop declares the conclusion of the event shortly right after how Lady Anda reacted to the word.
The word has yet to be disclosed. The moment Lady Anda opens the message inside the dossier, there's blood on the scroll. Still thick. Still dark. Still fresh.
The post-marriage event is canceled. And from her mouth alone, she says: "Ladies and Gents, may you all heed to my rhetoric. Kehinan settlers were raped under the behest of the Emperor. Emperor of Inglovia sent his regards to us." as she can't contain the overwhelming and excruciating ache.
"Our dearest queen, what did he say?" one of the crowd pleas, as the commotion panics the entire audience.
"As it stated and I quote: 'Death to you all, puny pagans. Cherish your numbered days.' As in accordance to the letter." Lady Anda replies in a vapid look.