Asmodeus and Velvet stood on the altar, clinging to each other while awaiting the mont they beca man and wife. However, first, the other two won of the Grigor family needed to arrive. Since the wedding of one man and over ten won would take too long, the groups split into factions and races.
"It’s for Vinea..."
Velvet leaned against him while muttering and adjusting her athyst dress.
He closed his eyes, patiently enjoying the mont as the distant sound of Grigor’s national the began to play. A heroic piece filled with strong brass and percussion instrunts and a light and charming string section.
"Introducing, the first and second princesses from the kingdom of Grigor. Vinea Anastasia Grigor and Asmodea Linea Grigor."
Although Asmodeus granted them new nas upon becoming demons, he and his lovers used a mix of their original nas for the marriage. After they signed and confird the deed, their nas would change to the demonic nas he gave them.
’It’s a little nerve wracking...’
He shifted his gaze to the long aisle, and the pair entered his sight.
First, he noticed Vinea, who moved with a confident sway, her hips tight because of her muscular figure and life as a knight. Her skin shimred with a glossy red sheen, glowing against her deep, earthen dress with a mixture of gold. The dress hugged her torso tight, like a corset layered in silk that faded into a bronze and ember orange skirt down to her knees, which caught the light with each step.
’Wow, it’s like her steps create a flaming circle.’
Two long slits on either side let her walk without hindrance, revealing glimpses of sculpted, muscular thighs covered in black thigh-highs. While on her shoulders, a beautiful mantle, like a desert in dusk, floated from her shoulders, once again created with golden arachne silk.
’The gems on her horns look so adorable and sexy.’
Asmodeus stood silently watching the silver chains dangle from her huge horns, swaying with each proud step she took with pretty gemstones stuck to them.
When their gazes matched, she parted her lips with a nervous expression before she quickly recovered and blew him a kiss with a wink.
’Vinea...’
That’s when he turned his gaze to the younger sister and one of his first lovers.
If Vinea was earth and ember, Asmodea was living fla dressed as a rose. Her gown fluttered with layers of crimson and wine-red silk, folded like petals curling around her hips and spilling down like a blooming garden.
"Wow."
"So Asmodea is more of your type?" Velvet asked from the side as her hands sank deeper into his muscles, clinging to him nervously.
"She’s beautiful, but... so are you and Vinea."
He didn’t lie, but Asmodea reminded him of a fairy who fell into hell and struggled to return ho. Her magic roses, black and red, puffed lazily on the ground behind her. When she took a step, flowers would bloom underneath, causing her to bounce. So Asmodeus couldn’t help but shift his gaze to her breasts.
Asmodea braided her scarlet hair with black vines tipped in tiny buds.
A veil of transparent red silk frad her curved horns that trailed down her back, faintly perfud with roses as she passed.
The mont their eyes t, his heart thumped; the beauty of these three won was extraordinary, and when they stepped up the stairs to et him. He needed to force himself to stop, or he might have rushed to them.
’Despite the nerves. I feel like a child locked in a candy store overnight.’ He thought with glee, wanting to control his expression, but his lips just kept curving into a deep grin.
Together, their the appeared to resemble the rebirth of Grigor’s countryside, the scorching heat and beautiful flowers lightening everyone’s hearts.
The closer the two ca, the more Velvet squeezed his hand and whispered sultry lines to keep his attention. At first, he didn’t mind, or rather enjoyed it. Until his crotch swelled and it beca difficult to hide.
"Velvet, calm down."
He exhaled slowly, squeezing her hand back, twirling their fingers as his golden eyes remained fixed on the two won who spent the past year fighting, bleeding and loving him intensely, now stood before him as his future brides.
"Ryuji~ I’ve waited so long for this." Asmodea’s eyes glistened with affection.
"You’ve worked so hard and kept your promise." Vinea followed.
However, the mont the two stepped forward and ignored the poor bishop’s pleas, and rushed to hug him.
The music played once more.
"Eh?"
"Ah, we forgot Aunty."
The crowd’s cheer softened to a respectful hush as the next announcent rang clear, carried by magic across the plaza:
"Her Grace, forr Duchess of Grigor, Alice Elenoire Grigor — now Chancellor of Luria."
The music shifted at once.
Gone was the bright pride of the princesses; in its place ca an older, weightier lody, a noble march of strings and deep drums, touched by a single cold piano line. It was the sound of Grigor’s old courts and classic romantic plays.
Intelligent, gentle and affectionate.
Alice stepped into view alone on the aisle.
She wore black, yet it didn’t resemble a mourning dress. Her beautiful outfit shimred like midnight clung to her clean, fleshy lines, opening at one leg in a precise cut that revealed her pale skin with each asured step.
Fine silver chains wrapped around her waist and shoulders like makeshift armour.
Alice’s eyes focused on Asmodeus, with a high collar framing her graceful neck and a sheer cape of shadow-silk trailing behind, catching the light in faint glimrs. Her black hair, normally straight and down, looked immaculate, swept back into a delicate twist set into place with golden combs, and at her throat, a single ruby gemstone glistened.
Although Alice’s face remained composed, her dark eyes betrayed her emotions. They softened the mont they found Asmodeus. A rare tremble as they beca glassy and wet, her lips parting as she showed a brilliant smile.
’Alice!’
Normally, she was serious, hid her emotions and desires, and even trained alone.
Yet here she was, like a true queen, looking at him with such loving eyes.
Velvet felt it too and leaned closer, whispering, "She’s beautiful today... and nervous."
Asmodeus’s chest tightened as he watched Alice walk. A familiar woman whom he fell for at first sight, soone who used to only know books and calculation, now smiling like a maiden in love and walking towards him.
To marry him!
His heartbeat pounded faster with each mont that passed as the fact that he would marry these won beca more and more real.
’She’s changed... we changed each other.’
Alice stopped at the altar’s edge. The music held a long, proud note. She dipped into a perfect curtsy. Elegant yet with slight hesitation, and then, abandoning the formality with a breathless little laugh, stepped forward.
"My king..." she said softly, black eyes shimring with tender emotions. "... don’t make wait any longer."
Velvet chuckled under her breath, pushing him forward; even the crowd smiled as Asmodeus reached out his hand toward the woman who had once been untouchable.
***
The music faded as hushed voices spread.
The man to officiate the marriage of Grigor and Luria was none other than Avandar himself. However, he didn’t co to the altar, and everyone beca confused. He’d long left his seat in the crowd, leaving his two young children sitting happily in the royal box.
Even Duke Qwass looked confused.
"Is sothing wrong?" Asmodea whispered while standing close to him.
"I don’t know, but your father should be here."
"It’ll be fine..." Velvet humd.
The silence that followed Alice’s vow was warm at first. Velvet squeezed his arm. Vinea and Asmodea stood a step behind him, smiling softly, their hands linked. They believed Avandar would never ruin their special day and waited.
Then the music faltered.
It was subtle at first, a single violin trailing off mid-note, a drumbeat skipping like a heart that missed a step. The grand plaza shifted with quiet unease. Murmurs ran along the ranks of soldiers and guests.
From the far end of the white-and-obsidian aisle, a figure in heavy robes of deep gold began to walk forward.
A new song played...
Beautiful, heroic, as if a hero were about to fight against a demon lord.
At first, the crowd assud it was a late herald or priest. But the pace was too steady and his figure large. Each step carried grace and elegance only royalty could have. The robe’s hem glead faintly with ancient sigils, catching the light of the magic-lanterns as it brushed the stone.
"Who...?" Velvet whispered. Her tail tightened unconsciously around Asmodeus’s wrist.
Vinea frowned, already half ready to step in front of him. Asmodea’s roses curled faintly at her feet, responding to the unfamiliar aura.
Even the beastkin drumrs fell silent. Children craned over the railings; the spider-silk banners fluttered in a breeze that suddenly felt cold.
Asmodeus straightened, golden eyes narrowing.
"It can’t be..."
The figure approached, yet he didn’t feel aggression or negative emotions, but a familiar shadow overlapped him. An old battlefield, sharing expensive drinks while whispering their deepest secrets and wishes.
The robed man reached the base of the altar and stopped.
The collective heart of the crowd thrumd in the mont of silence, before the man slowly, deliberately raised his hands and lowered his hood.
A gust of wind helped remove the fine cloth, revealing a golden shimr of hair catching the lantern light. A scar cut clean across a still-handso cheek. His eyes were deep, yet human and filled with a sharp warmth as they locked on Asmodeus with a look that was both proud and a little angry.
That’s when a voice deeper than mory echoed and carried across the plaza.
"...Long ti no see, brother."
Asmodeus struggled to breathe as ti seed to stop.
His voice stuck in the back of his throat as his heart thundered in his ears, drowning out the crowd’s sudden noise.
His lips parted, and instead of the demon god, it was just a young man calling out to a friend he’d thought gone forever.
"Alan!"
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