It felt like a long time coming, but his wedding day finally arrived.
Unfortunately, Earth's cumbersome custom of forbidding the groom and the bride from seeing each other before the actual ceremony managed to make it into this world. As such, he woke up at dawn alone, did his morning routine alone, and showered alone.
This morning would probably be the last time that would happen.
'Good lord, why am I so nervous? It's not like I have to duel her or something!'
As a kingdom of knights, it actually wouldn't have been surprising if there was some strange tradition involving the bride and groom duking it out with swords and shields in hand. It was fortunate that such a tradition didn't exist. Just normal stuff. The groom dresses up in a tuxedo-like coat while the bride dons a beautiful white dress. Then they get married in front of their colleagues, friends, loved ones, and anyone else they invite.
He was a knight though, so perhaps he would have been less nervous if all he had to do was duel her. Though she was closer to Ascendance than him, he actually won most of their sparring matches. Maybe they both held back a little, but still.
'It's really happening. To me.'
Reivan gulped as he fixed his radiant blue and gold tie.
"You do remember what you're supposed to do and say, right?" Roland whispered from right next to him, wearing a similar but less extravagant version of Reivan's white and gold tuxedo—which was obviously an attempt not to stand out more than the groom. "I'm asking because I almost forgot mine on my wedding day. I was a little too mesmerized by Stella, you see."
"Do you think I'm an idiot? Of course, I remember."
"Shush." Rodin, who was also standing in a row with his two sons chided them quietly. "Stop squirming about. Have you forgotten about the hundreds of people watching us?"
The two young men immediately shut their mouths and waited quietly for the bride to arrive.
They were all currently within the Sol Sanctum—the capital's holiest structure and was also home to the Saintess. Pretty much all notable weddings for the past century were held here, officiated by high-standing priests or priestesses. Though the Sol Sanctum was a simple church, paying homage to the Sormon Faith's humble roots, the place was naturally spruced up in light of his wedding. Flowers both white and blue were hung up everywhere, with beautifully arranged wreaths hung up at the end of each row of seats. A thick royal blue carpet had been rolled down the aisle, waiting to welcome the bride.
There was more and it was all very nice, but Reivan didn't have the leeway to admire the various decorations. His mind was entirely focused on this life-changing moment.
"Nervous?"
Reivan flinched at the pleasant voice in his ear. He turned to the source and saw the embodiment of holiness—Saintess Frey.
She stood calmly at the head of the altar overlooking the hall, donning flowing white robes that truly matched her status as the Sun God's representative. It was a stark contrast to how she usually dressed, but it made sense that she'd go the extra mile today because she was officiating his wedding.
It was a great honor and few could ever say that a Transcendent presided over any event in their life. Luckily, he wasn't just some random nobody.
Reivan chuckled, failing to hide his embarrassment. "A little."
Frey giggled. "I cannot relate, but I think you should look happy when the bride arrives, right?"
Immediately, Reivan realized how he'd almost blundered. What would Helen feel if she walked up here and saw him looking uneasy? She might think he was having doubts—which obviously wasn't true and she would know that too. But it certainly wouldn't be pleasant for her if he was doing a bulldog impression when she strolled down the aisle.
"You're right..." Reivan closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. This was a very happy moment in his life so he should look happy.
Just as he was trying to remember how to smile, the large double doors to the Sol Sanctum swung open and revealed a procession of ladies with Helen in the lead.
If he remembered correctly, the bride was usually last to arrive, but apparently due to past incidents of brides getting sniped by assassins right outside the venues, brides were now ushered in first just to be sure. That was all the way back when Aizen still hadn’t completely conquered the lands it currently occupied, but the tradition had stuck.
That was why Helen led the procession. The bride’s maids and all the other women who were part of the ceremony trailed behind her.
“Wow…” Reivan couldn’t help but mutter as his breath got caught in his throat. Even his chest tightened as his mind blanked.
The moment he saw his bride, the rest of the world lost color.
He could have spared a glance at the shower of petals and the pretty lights that heralded her arrival. Or admired the craftsmanship of her wedding dress and the elegance of her braided hair. Maybe he could have smiled at his cute nieces, who were energetically trying to keep up with the procession and earnestly unloading their own baskets of flower petals everywhere.
But he found that he couldn’t really care less about anything else.
At this moment, there was only her and a blurred background.
‘Beautiful.’
As she drew near, Reivan was granted the fortune of taking more of her in. His eyes easily pierced through her veil, blessing him with the sight of a smile much wider than what he usually witnessed on her lips. It didn’t take a genius to realize that she was smiling out of joy.
Out of happiness.
Happiness of getting married to him, he assumed.
Reivan couldn’t look away, despite himself. He was certain that he could stare at her for years without tiring. But he was forced to stop when someone nudged him not-so-gently.
“What the hell are you doing?” Roland hissed into his ear, quiet but sharp, so that nobody but them would hear. “Snap out of it and escort your bride to the damned altar.”
Only then did Reivan realize that Helen was already right before him, not halfway down the aisle. The rest of the procession had also taken up their assigned positions, and everyone in the church was looking at him with warm but amused smiles.
It should have felt mortifying, but somehow, Reivan could only step toward his bride and offer his arm.
"What's with you?" Helen asked in a hushed tone as she hooked her arm around his. “Am I that pretty?”
Reivan gulped and nodded vigorously.
“The prettiest.”
His answer seemed to satisfy her because her smile grew even more radiant, though not many could see. “The veil’s supposed to hide it. You’re cheating right now. C'mon. We’re supposed to kneel over there, remember?”
Together, they slowly walked forward. Even in his middleheaded state, he still instinctively took care not to go too fast. Her dress was long, after all. He didn’t want her to step on anything in her haste to keep up with him.
All the way to the altar, Reivan’s gaze was locked on her profile. He could not pull away even if he wanted to—and he didn’t want to, so the result was obvious. There were chuckles and he heard some male acquaintances jeer at him. One of the voices even sounded like his uncle’s. But again, nothing else mattered to him.
Only her.
There was only her.
Helen had to pull on his arm when they reached the altar because he didn’t notice that they’d reached the spot where they were supposed to kneel to the Saintess—and subsequently, to the Sun God. That caused even more cheers and laughter, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t care at all.
The Saintess then began to talk about something, but Reivan’s mind tuned it out as time slowed down. He understood though. Naturally, he understood that he should be paying attention. This was his wedding too, after all.
From time to time, Helen would look over and their eyes would meet through the veil. She would look all amused at him, melting his heart and casting some kind of spell on him so he couldn’t look away. Then she’d turn to the front again, making his heart tighten.
Really, he couldn’t get enough of her. Did he perhaps get drugged? Probably not but that was how it felt.
As he was enjoying the best view in the entire world, Helen once again peered toward him with a troubled smile, causing him to grin stupidly in response. He didn't know what she was smiling about but all was well if she was.
That didn’t seem to be what she was looking for, so she leaned a little closer and whispered something to him.
“You’re supposed to answer the Saintess, now.”
“What?”
Frey’s giggle, which sounded like the pleasant ringing of bells, momentarily snapped him out of his stupor. She spoke with a loud and amused voice that the entire church could hear. “Goodness, it seems our groom is a little too mesmerized by his bride. He truly doesn’t seem to have heard me.”
That got a round of laughter from everyone. Not the mocking kind, of course. But the well-meaning kind.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Reivan looked behind him and caught sight of his mother shaking her head in exasperation, his father and brother simultaneously holding their forehead like they were each other’s reflection, and his uncle loudly guffawing at the very back of the church. Hector was there too, right next to a pregnant Mimi who looked as if they didn’t want anyone to know they were close to the groom.
“I’ll ask again then, Your Highness.” Saintess Frey smiled as she turned to him. “Do you take Helen as your lawfully wedded wife?”
“...Ah. I do!” Reivan finally realized what he’d missed, nodding vigorously. “Yes! I do, I do. I really do.”
“Oh, really? Who could have expected that answer, hm?” Saintess Frey teased, producing another round of chuckles and giggles. “Very enthusiastic. I like it!”
Reivan thought of himself as a person with some tolerance to shame, but even he felt his ears heat up from embarrassment now. He truly didn’t know what was happening to him—what his wife was doing to him.
'My wife... Hehehe...'
Saintess Fret then turned to Helen. “Your groom seems to want this over with, so let’s skip the formalities. Do you want to marry him or not?”
Helen turned her head toward him and said, “I do. And I won’t let him get away even if he tries to run.”
“An equally enthusiastic answer from the bride!” Frey exclaimed, earning a cheerful whoop from the crowd. “Well then, by the power vested in me by the Sun God and the crown, I now declare you husband and wife. Now, give her a good smooch!”
Reivan nodded vigorously as he and Helen faced each other. With slightly shaky hands, he reached up and raised her veil to reveal her beautiful face, once again rendering him under her spell.
In that muddled state, he couldn’t help but ask. “Are you uh... really fine? Y'know. With me?”
“You’re asking that now…?” Helen grinned, shaking her head in exasperation. “Rein, just shut up and kiss me already. Or rather—”
Suddenly, she grabbed him by the tie and pulled.
The next moment, their lips were connected and Reivan couldn’t really remember what happened after that.
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There was supposed to be a parade around the capital to show off the newlywed couple.
A parade float had been prepared and everything, powered forward by a prototype artifact version of a magitech engine. The entire event was going to be broadcasted over the skies of every city in the country so that all could share in this joyous day.
Unfortunately, Reivan couldn’t get into it until the end. He and Helen sat right next to each other on the float and they were both supposed to smile and wave to the crowd.
Look around. Smile. The usual stuff.
But Reivan’s eyes were glued to his wife as he half-heartedly let his arm sway like a reversed pendulum. She looked so nice waving and just existing. It would be wrong of him not to admire the view.
And so, just like that, an indeterminate period of time passed in pleasant bliss. Somehow or another, Reivan and Helen made it back to the palace and were now at reception, where they were offered congratulations by a bunch of people.
He knew it was impolite, but Helen pretty much did all the talking—which was funny, because their positions had reversed from when they were children. It had usually been him doing most of the talking when they were alone, and Helen just kind of did her own thing.
In any case, it seemed as if his incessant staring had finally gotten to her since she pinched his thigh under the table.
“Stop staring so much…” Helen muttered under her breath, her ears somewhat red.
“I’m sorry,” Reivan said.
“If you’re sorry, shouldn’t you stop?”
He nodded, but still couldn’t look away. “I should. But I can’t.”
Helen looked at him with a bit of resentment before turning away in embarrassment. “I can let you look at me all you want later. Just give it a rest for now, okay?”
Despite her suggestion, he still ended up utterly spellbound by her. He really couldn’t look away for some reason.
“Is our presence interrupting your alone time with my sister?” Hector was suddenly next to him, with an arm wrapped around his shoulders. “I haven’t gone to many weddings in my lifetime, but yours is definitely the funniest, my friend.”
Mimi, who was right next to Hector and supporting the small bump in her stomach, giggled as she looked from Reivan to Helen. “Congratulations, Helen. I always knew you’d be the first one to marry this guy.”
“Mhm.” Helen nodded before sighing, fixing Reivan with a sharp glance. “I almost wasn’t the first though.”
“Eh, what matters is the end results.” Hector shrugged, before falling silent as he looked at his twin sister. After a moment, however, he smiled sincerely. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you. It’ll be your turn next.”
“Ahaha. Well, it won’t be anything like this. But it’ll be fine as long as all my friends are there. Of course, you two will have to come as well.”
After that, the rest of their family came over to congratulate the newlyweds.
Roland was just exasperated at how idiotic Reivan had acted, but overall seemed amused.
Stella stopped her husband from ruining the mood with his nagging before sharing a tight hug with Helen.
His nieces happily offered their congratulations as well, but they didn't seem to really understand what was happening and were just doing what the adults were doing.
Viktor smacked Reivan on the back and playfully cursed Reivan for getting married before he did.
Vianna hugged both the bride and the groom, telling them to watch out for each other.
And finally, Rodin, his father, offered a curt but heartfelt congratulations and a whispered warning to Reivan to tone down the womanizing a little. Things were very different from before now that he was a married man. Helen would be well within her rights to punish him for unsanctioned infidelity.
His concubines, of course, were an exception. With that many women, if he still sought out others, he would really inspire the wrath of the heavens and the hells.
Reivan, luckily, maintained some semblance of mental presence throughout the whole ordeal.
Or maybe he was starting to get used to his wife’s charms? That thought would immediately vanish when he glanced at her, however. As he would need to be pinched to snap out of it again. He was so utterly captivated that he couldn’t remember what he ate, just that it was some of the best food he’d ever tasted in both lives.
Celebrations continued well into the night, with dancers, acting troupes, and all sorts of top-class performers entertaining the guests. But even as the others cheered, Reivan only cared about one person today.
And that person was squirming under his stare, her ears and neck red from mortification. It wasn’t an expression he usually saw on Helen, so it encouraged him to do it even more. He even purposely whispered compliments for her from time to time.
In the end, Helen couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him away early—much to the cheers and heckling of the guests.
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Back in their room—well, it had been his room but now it was theirs—and still in the clothes they wore during the wedding, Helen sat Reivan down on the bed and huffed in annoyance at him.
“You’re too much. Are you doing this on purpose?”
Reivan shook his head defensively. “I really couldn’t help it…”
Helen groaned, seemingly not knowing what to do with him. “Fine. I’ll believe you. But don’t do this again.”
“I’ll try.” Reivan couldn’t control himself any longer and grabbed her hand, pulling her gently into his lap. “But it’s not my fault. Who told you to look that good?”
“Oh, be quiet, you…”
Maybe it was because they were back in such a familiar place, Reivan discovered that his mind was clearer than earlier. Yet, all he could think about was this beauty sitting on his lap and trying to hide her embarrassment.
He hooked her chin and turned her face toward his, making it easier to seal her lips with his own. They’d just done this in front of hundreds of people earlier today, but now that they were alone, he sought something less-appropriate for the eyes of children.
Their tongues intertwined and before they knew it, Reivan was already pinning her to the bed.
Helen looked up at him with what he could only perceive as a loving gaze. “If we had followed traditions, this would be my first time with you.”
At that, Reivan chuckled. “We’re way past that. And it was your fault for coming onto me so strongly…”
“Are you really blameless?”
“...Hm. Well, I’ll admit that I may have been extremely attracted to you.”
“Is that still the case right now?”
Reivan’s gaze fell on her silky black hair, her bewitching dark eyes, and the face that seemed to have been specially arranged by a god of beauty. He ran a hand down her soft white cheek, marveling at how smooth and pleasant it was to the touch as he traced her lips with his thumb.
His answer was obvious.
“My dear wife, I want to do all kinds of things to you that children my nieces shouldn’t hear about.”
“Thought so.” Helen grinned, looking a little smug. “On that note, I prepared something special for tonight.”
“Something special?”
“Uh-huh. Get off me for a bit.”
Reivan really didn’t want to because he was very much in the mood to just jump her right this instant, but he was also curious about what she was talking about.
Surprisingly, Helen procured a shocking set of clothes from her spatial ring.
“I don’t know if you’ll like this.” Helen showed it off to him by placing it against her body. “But this design has been passed down from the womenfolk of the royal family. Apparently, the men of the royal family really like this.”
Reivan ran his gaze down the outfit once again and unconsciously thanked his ancestor.
‘It’s… It’s a bunny suit… It’s a bunny suit! With ears! Holy shit!’
“I also have this.” Helen pulled out a different outfit, this time, it was a maid’s uniform. Of course, this one was modified to have a shorter skirt and expose more skin—which made it something that palace maids would never wear. “You like them?”
Reivan nodded vigorously. His mind was a mess, unable to decide whether he wanted to mess her up in her wedding dress, a bunny suit, or in a maid uniform.
“I see… So you like this sort of thing.” Helen nodded to herself before setting the outfits to the side of the bed. “I’m about to make you very happy then.”
“I was already happy even before you took out the outfits.”
“Mhm. Me too.”
They both smiled, only for them to erupt in a fit of laughter as they fell atop the bed.
It didn’t go as planned because Helen was a little too pretty today, but their wedding could be called a success. One of the happiest moments of both their lives just happened. And they were glad to have shared it with each other.
For a while, they just lay there, holding hands, staring into each other’s eyes, and basking in the feeling of finally advancing their relationship to the highest level.
That only lasted for a short time, though.
In the end, both of them were hotblooded youths who were very attractive to each other. None of them didn’t know who really started it, but it didn't take long before their bodies intertwined as soft gasps filled the chamber.
They did not stop until dawn.
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Unbeknownst to Reivan, his mesmerized state earned him a reputation among the populace that had viewed the sky broadcast of the parade.
They didn’t see how he acted within the Sol Sanctum, nor did they see the reception party in the palace. But what they witnessed was enough for them to endearingly call Prince Reivan by a name that may or may not count as impudence.
The Lovestruck Prince, he was called.
Surprisingly, it had positive effects on his reputation.
The women of Aizen wanted to find a man who would look at them the same way Prince Reivan looked at Lady Helen—even better if the man they found was rich, handsome, of high standing, and a capable knight.
A girl could dream, some of them would say.
But nonetheless, the prince had set a very hard standard within the nation that would make a lot of men curse him in their sleep.
Already, writers were making plans to research the young couple’s story to turn it into a stage play. Artists furiously sketched out the scene they saw in the sky while it was still vivid in their minds. And numerous young girls pictured him as their “prince charming”.
Though he did look a little foolish, somehow or the other, it managed to endear him to the public.