An Unforgettable Wedding Night

The bells of Haltharan rang bright and clear as the sun climbed over the city’s white towers.

Royal banners fluttered from every wall, and the air was thick with the perfume of fresh flowers.

The square before the grand temple was crammed with onlookers, their stiff faces full of disbelief, as though they were watching a public disgrace unfold.

Inside, Marcus shuffled down the aisle in his freshly stitched wedding suit, tripping on the carpet just as the solemn music began to play.

Bromor trudged right behind him, filling in as best man after Gus had ditched the job. He’d polished up his chainmail for the occasion, but otherwise looked about as thrilled as a man at his own funeral.

Off to the side, half-hidden by a pillar, Gus and Caeriel watched the spectacle.

Caeriel sighed, her sharp eyes fixed on Marcus.

“These are sacred rituals. If he bungles them, it’s an insult to the entire nobility.”

“Oh no,” Gus whispered in mock horror, covering his mouth. “Not the nobility!”

Caeriel shot him a look that could cut glass.

“Do you ever take anything seriously?”

Gus smirked and shrugged. “Eh. Sometimes.”

Up front, Marcus staggered up to a crescent-shaped altar of crystal glass, shafts of light dancing inside it.

The high priest stepped forward, his voice thin and pompous:

“The groom shall now taste a sip of the Moonwater, and walk the Step of the Stars around the holy crystal.”

“Uh. Sure.” Marcus snatched the chalice, chugged the contents in one go, and slapped it back into the priest’s hands, who stared at him in horror.

Bromor nudged him, whispering, “...You call that a sip?”

“Sorry, man, I was parched!” Marcus hissed, barely choking down a burp as he stumbled through three lopsided laps around the crystal.

“Legs up, lad!” Bromor barked under his breath. “Lift your damn legs, like we practiced!”

From the crowd, Gus leaned toward Caeriel and whispered, “Lemme guess, that’s not how it’s supposed to look?”

Caeriel just groaned and buried her face in her hands.

Ritual bled into ritual; endless chants, speeches, and prayers.

But at last, the moment came.

The high priest raised his hands, his voice echoing across the hushed hall:

“Princess Liriel of Haltharan, daughter of His Majesty Antharinas, King of the Elves, firstborn of the House of Silver, heir to the Moonlight Throne: do you swear to uphold your duties as wife, to love and honor your husband, until the light of the moon fades into the Sea of Mist?”

The crowd collectively held its breath.

All eyes were locked onto her. She didn’t move, didn’t twitch, only her veil stirred faintly in the breeze, while the seconds stretched into eternities.

Then her voice rang out, clear and unwavering:

“Yes. I swear it.”

A shockwave of murmurs and horrified whispers rippled through the hall.

The priest then turned, his voice faltering, as he faced Marcus.

“And you… Marcus. The… human...” He cleared his throat, clearly unsettled by how short the titles were.

“...Do you swear to uphold your duties as husband, to love and honor your wife, until the light of the moon fades into the Sea of Mist?”

Marcus stood there, sweating through his suit, collar crooked, hands twisting nervously.

He cleared his throat, glanced again at the princess, saw her eyes fixed on him, blazing with unshakable resolve.

“Yes,” he said at last, his tone unexpectedly serious. “Yes, I swear it.”

The priest lifted his hands. “Then, in the name of the Three Moons, I ask: does anyone here object to this union?”

“Yes! I object!” The voice thundered through the chamber. “This farce cannot be allowed to continue!”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Captain Jathiran marched forward, chest puffed out, eyes burning with hatred as he leveled a finger straight at Marcus.

“A human! A low, filthy creature who dares to claim the hand of our princess? Unthinkable!”

But before anyone else could speak, the unexpected happened.

The princess stepped forward, eyes blazing, her expression fierce, borderline threatening in its resolve.

“Captain Jathiran, how dare you interrupt my wedding!?” Her voice shook the hall, so sharp and commanding that even Jathiran flinched. “This was meant to be the happiest moment of my life! If you don’t shut your mouth this instant, I’ll have you thrown into the dungeons and tried for treason!”

Silence fell like a blade.

The crowd froze. Jathiran groped for words, his jaw working soundlessly, until at last he turned on his heel and slunk back, tail firmly between his legs.

Marcus blinked, staring at his bride-to-be. He whispered under his breath:

“Dude… I think I just fell in love all over again…”

The priest stammered, then managed to compose himself.

“V-very well then… let us proceed…”

Under the whispering gazes of the crowd, the ceremony continued, and after the vows were spoken, the celebrations dragged on.

The nobility had only attended begrudgingly, but once the wine began to flow and music filled the hall, even the stiffest of them managed to look halfway merry.

Marcus barely had time to breathe before Bromor clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Well fought, lad,” the dwarf said gruffly. His tone was flat, but for Bromor it was practically a standing ovation.

Caeriel stepped up next, her expression softer than usual. “Congratulations, Marcus. I hope… you know how lucky you are” She gave the faintest smile before quickly looking away.

Then came Gus, already drunk, a wine goblet dangling precariously from his fingers. His eyes were glassy as he staggered up, grabbed Marcus by both shoulders, and pulled him into a hug.

“Duuude… I’m so proud of you! You actually did it, you crazy son of a bitch! You married an elven princess! You, hic!, you’re my fuckin’ hero, man!”

“Thanks, man,” Marcus muttered, tears welling up in his eyes.

“You better not forget the deal we made back then! Your second kid’s gotta be named after me!” Gus wailed, clutching him tighter.

Caeriel sighed, hooked her arm under Gus’s, and began dragging him away. “Alright, enough. The groom has other matters to attend to.”

“But I love him!” Gus cried dramatically as he was hauled off, nearly spilling his wine all over the floor.

Marcus watched them go with a helpless chuckle, then turned back to his bride.

When the celebrations finally wound down, the newlyweds were led to their chambers.

“Well then...” Marcus swallowed, clearly more nervous than he let on.

The bedroom was more lavish than any room in Haltharan, gold and silk everywhere, a massive bed, and the scent of roses in the air.

The princess had finally removed her veil and, without a word, she crossed the room and stood at the window, staring out into the night.

Marcus scratched the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the floor.

“Uh, so… we haven’t exactly had much time to, y’know, really get to know each other. You’re probably just as nervous as I am. I mean, sure, it’s our wedding night, but I’d totally be fine if you...”

“You belong to me now,” she cut him off coldly, without turning.

“Uh… yeah, sure… that’s kind of the point of marrying, right?” Marcus laughed nervously, but his laugh died as she slowly turned and took a step toward him.

Her violet eyes fixed on him with a mixture of madness and possessiveness as she closed the distance.

“I have waited so long to have you all to myself. Only for me.”

Her hand snapped around his wrist so suddenly he almost yelped. A faint, almost deranged smile played at her lips.

“You know you will never leave my side again, don’t you? No one will take you from me, not the nobility, not my father… not even death.”

“Uh… okay… what a weird  thing to say… but fine by me, I guess. But... maybe we can come back to the whole get to know each other slowly thing?” he tried, awkwardly.

Her fingers suddenly dug painfully into his arm; her sweet smile froze into a mask.

“Get to know each other slowly? A hysterical little laugh escaped her as her eyes went unnaturally wide. “But we already know each other, my love… since the lake… since you stared at me with that lustful look…”

She spun on her heel, her flowing gown swishing, and locked the door behind her.

“Or… is it her?” Her voice sharpened to ice. “I saw you talking to that… ranger. Did you have other plans for tonight!?”

“Wait, do you mean Caeriel?” he waved it off nervously, laughing, “Oh no, definitely not, she’s not at all my type...”

“Oh really?” She tilted her head; her eyes narrowed to slits as she clawed at his clothing.

A nervous twitch pulled at his lips before she whispered, “I understand… you don’t need to lie. I’ll just make sure she… disappears. Problem solved.”

What the actual fuck!?

“Hold on, you don’t have to make anyone disappear! It was just a misunderstanding! I don’t care about other women, I swear!” he blurted.

Her features brightened instantly, as if someone had flipped a switch; triumph glittered in her eyes.

“Oh, Marcus… that’s all I wanted to hear. Of course it was just a misunderstanding. I knew you would be faithful.” Her smile softened again, innocent as if the raging jealousy had never happened.

Marcus swallowed, then leapt off the bed.

“Uhm, good, glad we cleared that up! Anyway, I should pop to the bathroom real quick... want to look fresh for my wife, hehe…”

He hurried to the bathroom and shut the door, ruffling his hair.

"Dude, what the actual fuck!? She’s batshit crazy! I gotta get the fuck outta here!

He opened the window, then froze. The walls below dropped away by dozens of meters.

“Damn, this is high!”

Then a voice rang from the bedchamber.

“Oh, Maaaarcuuus, where are you? You don’t need to get all fancied up for me, my love. You're perfect just the way you are!”

“Y-yeah! Uh… I’ll be right there! I just need to… uh… remove this really nasty nose hair real quick, that’s all!”

He looked back out the window.

“Ah fuck it.”

He lifted a leg onto the sill when a soft scratching sounded at the door. With a yank the door flew open, its lock ripped from the frame.

The princess stood there, panting, her otherwise perfect hair slightly mussed, amethyst eyes glazed with tears.

“M…Marcus?” Her voice broke when she saw the open window. “You… you want to run away?” A choked sob escaped; tears ran down her pale cheeks. “I thought… you loved me?!”

She lunged forward, her hands clawing into his back.

“Please!” Her voice was a desperate plea; her tears fell on his clothes. “I can’t… I can’t be without you! I would do anything, change anything! Tell me what you want!”

Then she saw his horrified face and her desperation flipped. Her tears stopped midstream; her voice went cold as steel.

“Or… are you testing me?” Her grip tightened. “You truly don’t know what I would do to keep you here? How far I would go?”

Marcus still stood motionless at the window, thoughts racing.

Holy fucking shit… I went and married a full-on Yandere. I’m so screwed!