Chapter 118: Vow in the Oasis

  "Next!"

  The sun had shifted just enough that the shade no longer reached the booth. Yukari shouted the word with the mechanical precision of a woman who had lost her soul somewhere between the third and fourth hour of the morning.

  A family? A merchant guild? A troupe of acrobats? She couldn't tell anymore. The figures passing before the small wooden service window were just a blur of colors, fabrics, and noises. The smell of expensive perfumes mixed with the scent of roasted street food and the undeniable musk of too many bodies packed into a tight space created a cocktail that made her head spin.

  She slammed the royal seal onto a piece of parchment, the thud reverberating through the cramped booth. She had administrative experience back in Jinlun—she had managed logistics for armies, for goodness' sake—but this? This was a different beast entirely. It was like a tri-headed snake; cut off one head, or check one guest, and two more seemed to sprout in their place.

  "Next!" she barked again, not even looking up as she dipped her quill into the inkwell.

  Beside her, Raito was functioning on autopilot, his brain seemingly overheated. His pristine tuxedo was rumpled, his tie loosened, and his hair, unusually neat, looked like he had run his hands through it a thousand times.

  "Are we seriously the only reception booth in this whole palace?" Raito groaned, his voice raspy. He slumped over his side of the desk, staring with dead eyes at the mountain of paperwork in front of him. "For the wedding of the century? Bob and the King invited half the continent, I swear."

  "I don't know," Yukari gritted out, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow that threatened to drip onto the guest list. "But it looks like it."

  She looked out the window. The line snaked away from the gate, winding down the main road until it disappeared into the heat shimmer of the city below.

  "Urgh, this is never-ending," Raito complained, but his hand kept moving, checking the invitation of an elderly gentleman who was taking an eternity to find his spectacles. "Next!"

  "I know," Yukari sighed, rubbing her temples. "But less complaining, more working. We just need to ensure they aren't assassins and actually have an invite. Next!"

  A family of seven—two mothers and five children, all dressed in matching bright yellow tunics—shoved their papers through the window. Yukari scanned them in three seconds flat. Valid. Valid. Valid. Stamp. Stamp. Stamp.

  "Move along, enjoy the ceremony," she droned.

  "What letter are we on, right now?" Raito asked, squinting at his ledger as if the letters were dancing. "Next!" He waved a burly man through.

  Yukari checked the tab on the side of the massive book. "Let's see..." She flipped a chunk of pages that felt as heavy as a brick. "Names that start with K."

  "Next!" Yukari shouted.

  A finely dressed lady stepped up to the window. She was smiling pleasantly, but draped around her shoulders, wearing a tiny matching bowtie, was a large, scaly desert lizard.

  Yukari didn't even blink. She slowly raised a finger and tapped a sign taped to the glass: NO PETS ALLOWED (EXCEPT CAMELS, HORSES, OR YAKS IN THE STABLES).

  The lady opened her mouth to argue, perhaps to explain that Mr. Scales was emotional support.

  Yukari glared. It wasn't just a look; it was the 'Snow Flower' glare, a look that could freeze a volcano. Don't. You. Dare.

  The message was received loud and clear. The lady’s mouth snapped shut, her shoulders slumped, and she turned around, dragging her feet as she walked away to find the stables.

  "K...?" Raito whimpered, his head hitting the desk with a soft thump. "That's only halfway. It feels like it's been ages since we stood up. Next!"

  A man wearing dark sunglasses, despite the booth being in the shade, stepped up. He placed an invitation on the desk, along with a massive, two-handed sledgehammer that he rested casually on the ledge.

  Raito stared at the hammer. Then at the man. Then at the hammer again.

  "No tools. No weapons. And not even intent, please," Raito said, his voice flat.

  "This tool is my life," the man said deeply, crossing his arms. "It is an extension of my soul."

  "Yeah, not dealing with this," Raito rubbed his face. "Guards!"

  Two royal guards materialized from the shadows, flanking the hammer enthusiast and escorting him away before he could argue the philosophical merits of construction equipment at a royal wedding.

  "And that..." Yukari slammed the book shut on the 'K' section, a cloud of dust puffing up. "...is the last of K."

  She leaned back, her spine popping in three different places. She groaned, massaging her lower back. "Next is L."

  She leaned out the window, shouting to the captain of the guard stationed nearby. "Guards, please call everyone who has the first name 'L' to standby!"

  The captain nodded and turned to the restless sea of people. He cupped his hands around his mouth, his voice booming magically amplified across the square.

  "UH, EVERYONE WITH THE FIRST NAME 'L', PLEASE FORM A LINE! YOU WILL BE CALLED SOON!"

  The crowd shifted, a murmur of anticipation rippling through them.

  "PLEASE BE PATIENT!" the guard continued, puffing out his chest. "WE ARE WORKING AS FAST AS WE CAN!"

  Inside the booth, Raito and Yukari froze. Their heads snapped up.

  "WE????"

  They shouted in unison, their voices cracking with indignation. They slumped back into their chairs, defeated by the sheer audacity.

  "You mean us," Raito muttered into the wood of the desk, his forehead resting against the desk. "He means us."

  The sun climbed higher, baking the stone courtyard, and with it came the true eccentricity of the guest list.

  "Next!"

  A Sacred, his skin molting in the heat, presented an invitation. He had apparently sold Malik a particularly good fountain pen three years ago. Stamp.

  "Next!"

  An elderly woman who claimed Bob had sold her a cooking pot twenty years ago that 'never burned rice.' She wanted to return the favor with a jar of pickled cactus. Stamp. Gift confiscated by guards. Move along.

  "Next!"

  A troupe of trapeze artists cartwheeled to the window, their spandex glittering blindingly in the sun. They were there because Princess Samira had once pointed at them and said, "Ooh, shiny." Stamp.

  "Next!"

  A group of mimes. King Ahmed liked mimes. Raito stared at them as they performed an elaborate 'trapped in a box' routine to present their papers. Raito, feeling very much trapped in a box himself, felt a flicker of kinship but killed it immediately. Stamp.

  Raito and Yukari were no longer people. They were biological machines fueled by spite and the repetitive motion of stamping ink on parchment. Their mental anguish had transcended pain and settled into a dull, throbbing void.

  Then came the scent of sea salt and expensive rose water.

  Standing before the booth, shielding her eyes with a fan made of pearl and silk, was a young woman with hair blonde and flowing like the ocean waves. Beside her stood a maid with a familiar, weary expression.

  It was Lily Pence, the Jewel of the Sea, the biggest celebrity in all of Calvenoor. And Serra, her long-suffering attendant.

  This should have been an emotional reunion. They hadn't seen each other since the chaos at Azul Spira. There should have been hugs, tears, and catch-ups.

  "Nice meeting you two again," Serra started, offering a polite bow.

  Lily snapped her fan shut with a dramatic clack, posing with one hand on her hip. "It's not like I wanted to come see you two specifically, but Bob invited me, and it would be rude to refuse a Royal summons, soo... I had to come."

  She waited. She waited for the gasps. The adoration. The 'Oh, Lily, we missed you so much!'

  "Yeah, yeah, long time no see," Yukari droned, her eyes glazed over as she slammed the stamp down. Thud.

  "Next!" she shouted, already looking past Lily’s shoulder.

  Lily blinked, her composure cracking. "Wait. Why aren't you dramatically missing me right now? I'm the Jewel of the Sea!"

  "You see the line of people behind you?" Raito pointed a trembling finger at the endless snake of humanity. "Next!"

  "Wait, we are not done!" Lily protested, planting her feet. "I have prepared a speech about forgiveness and—"

  Yukari sighed, a long, rattling sound from deep within her chest. She signaled the guards.

  "Escort her inside."

  Two burly palace guards stepped forward, grabbing the celebrity by her silk-covered arms.

  "Hey! Unhand me!" Lily shrieked as they began to drag her toward the gate. Her heels skid across the cobblestones. "This is sexual harassment! Do you know who I am?! You two will pay for this! I'll write a song about how rude you are!"

  Serra gave Raito and Yukari a sympathetic nod, mouthed 'sorry,' and followed her screaming mistress.

  "Next!" Raito called out.

  The cog continued to turn.

  Faces blurred. Titles meant nothing. A very specific merchant who sold the King a rug. A cousin thrice removed. Adventurers seeking glory. Business partners seeking tax breaks.

  Sir Rupert and Lady Geneva, the famous novelist couple, appeared. The creator for Shillook Huang and Lady Huanli.

  "Oh! The muses!" Sir Rupert began, pulling out a notebook. "We have a new plot twist involving a—"

  "No time," Raito said coldly. Stamp.

  "But the character arc—" Lady Geneva tried.

  "Move along," Yukari ordered, pointing the quill like a dagger.

  "Next!"

  Hours passed. The sun began its descent, casting long orange shadows. They had reached the letter 'S'. Thousands of souls had been processed. Raito’s hand was cramping into a permanent claw.

  A shadow fell over the booth.

  Raito looked up, ready to bark at another merchant, but the words died in his throat.

  Standing there was a group that smelled of crisp mountain air and ozone.

  Sun-Yoon, the Hermit, storm lord, and raito’s master looked as serene as ever, his moustache flowing in the desert wind. Beside him, following closely, was the Hanyuun’s entourage. Rara, the Crane Sacred Songstress, stood with her hands clasped, her eyes soft. And leading the pack, with a pompadour that defied gravity, physics, and the heat, was Isao, the new young ruler of Hanyuun, flanked by Kenta and the rest of the entourage.

  "It's nice seeing you two healthy," Sun-Yoon said, his voice a warm rumble that cut through the noise of the crowd.

  Rara stepped forward, reaching through the window to gently cup Yukari’s ink-stained hand. "Yukari... it's been a while."

  For a singular, fleeting second, the machine broke. The glaze left their eyes.

  "Rara," Yukari breathed, a genuine softness returning to her face.

  "Grandpa Sun-Yoon... Isao..." Raito’s eyes beamed, the exhaustion lifting as he saw the friends he hasn’t seen in a long time.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  But then, the sound of a drum beating in the distance reminded them of the time. The line shifted. The pressure returned.

  The light died in their eyes. The machine rebooted.

  "Okay, nice seeing you guys," Raito said, his voice snapping back to administrative monotone. "Let's catch up later."

  "Next!" they shouted in perfect, dead unison.

  Isao stood with his mouth open, a greeting half-formed on his lips. Sun-Yoon blinked, confused. Rara was left holding the air where Yukari’s hand had been.

  "Uh... right," Isao stammered as the guards gently ushered the bewildered Hanyuun delegation through the gates. "Catch up... later?"

  "Next!"

  The waves of human continued to crash against the booth.

  Then, a familiar silhouette blocked the sun.

  "Miss Yinzi?"

  For the first time in hours, Raito’s voice held a spark of recognition before he even looked at the papers. Standing there was the woman who had raised him, looking elegant in a dark, formal dress that commanded respect. Beside her stood Jack, Raito’s best friend and the Rabbit Sacred, looking uncharacteristically sharp in a suit that looks slightly too small for his large muscular frame, though his ears twitched with restless energy.

  "Kun," Yinzi said, a small smile touching her lips. "How are you? You look... terrible." She handed him an invitation.

  "Oh man," Jack whistled, leaning on the ledge. "A royal wedding. This will be pretty fun. The food better be good."

  "Yeah, it will be fun, I can guarantee," Raito said, his eyes already drifting back to the stamp. Thud.

  "Now, the door will be on your left," Raito gestured mechanically with a limp hand. "Next!"

  He looked past them to the empty space where the next person should be.

  Yinzi and Jack stood frozen.

  "Did... did Kun just did that to us?" Jack asked, his ears drooping in confusion.

  "I think he just did," Yinzi said, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "I will have a very long talk with that boy later."

  Jack chuckled nervously as they walked away. "He's gonna die."

  Finally.

  Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, after the sun had climbed to its zenith and begun to bake the cobblestones into a frying pan, the space in front of the booth was empty.

  The last guest had been processed. The book was closed.

  Raito and Yukari slumped back in their chairs, their spines colliding as they sat back-to-back. They panted heavily, the sound filling the small, hot booth.

  "We are done," they whispered in unison.

  Slowly, painfully, they lifted their arms in a weak cheer.

  "We are never doing that again," Raito complained, massaging his right hand, which was now permanently claw-shaped.

  "Yes. Agreed," Yukari groaned, cracking her neck. "Next time, we must absolutely avoid Bob at times like this. I don't care if he saved our lives back then. This is hell."

  From inside the palace walls, the swelling notes of orchestral music began to drift out. The ceremony was starting.

  "Oh man," Raito muttered. "They started without us."

  "Well..." Yukari shrugged, closing her eyes. "It's not like we are the ones getting married anyway."

  "Right," Raito said. He turned his head slightly. "Wanna bail out?"

  Yukari opened one eye and giggled. "You read my mind. That's a good husband."

  With a groan of effort, they stood up, stretching their cramped limbs. The allure of a cold drink in a quiet tavern in the city called to them like a siren song. They stepped out of the booth, ready to embrace freedom.

  "Um... sorry?"

  A timid voice stopped them in their tracks.

  An old lady with greying hair and a simple, dusty shawl stood a few feet away. She clutched a worn handbag to her chest, looking around with wide, uncertain eyes.

  "Is this the Kah-Kamun Palace?" she asked.

  Yukari stopped stretching and put on her polite mask, though it was softer this time. "Yes, ma'am. May I help you?"

  "Oh, Lord Silas, thank you," the woman breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging. "I am here to attend a wedding."

  "Then you are in the right place, ma'am," Raito said, stepping forward. "May I have your name and proof of invitation?"

  "Of course, young man. My name is Aisha Khan," she said, her hands immediately diving into her bag. "Please wait a moment."

  Khan?

  The name struck a chord in Yukari’s mind. Why does that sound familiar?

  She moved back to the desk, flipping open the heavy book one last time. She scanned the 'K' section.

  "Aisha Khan... let's see..." she murmured, running her finger down the list. "Ah, here it is."

  She looked up, smiling. "You are on the list, ma'am. All we need now is just to confirm your invitation."

  "Oh... I'm glad," Aisha said. She was still rummaging. The sound of shifting paper and fabric came from the bag.

  Raito noticed the delay. The music inside was getting louder. "Is there a problem, ma'am?"

  "Oh, I'm sure there is no problem, but..." Aisha’s voice trembled slightly. "I don't know... I can't seem to find the invite."

  Her frantic movements sped up. She pulled out a handkerchief, a small coin purse, a wrapped sweet... but no invitation.

  "Can I help you, ma'am?" Yukari asked gently, extending a hand.

  Aisha looked up, her eyes watery with rising panic. "Then... can you, young lady? Sorry if it's too much inconvenience for you."

  "No, ma'am, we are fine," Yukari said soothingly. She took the bag and began to search.

  Raito watched, a bad feeling settling in his gut. Yukari was thorough. If it was there, she would find it.

  Minutes passed. The bag was emptied. Pockets were checked. Yukari looked up at Raito and shook her head slightly.

  It wasn't there.

  When Yukari handed the empty bag back, the reality hit the old woman like a physical blow.

  Aisha fell to her knees on the hard stone.

  "No..." she whimpered, her voice cracking. "Why now of all days?"

  Tears began to stream down her weathered cheeks. "This is my child's precious day..."

  Child?

  Raito and Yukari exchanged a glance.

  Then, Yukari looked up at the massive wedding banner hanging from the palace walls. It displayed the names of the bride and groom in gold calligraphy.

  Princess Samira Said & Malik Khan.

  Yukari gasped softly. She tugged on Raito’s sleeve. "Hey," she whispered urgently. "You don't think she is..."

  "Yeah," Raito whispered back, his eyes widening as he looked at the weeping woman. "Malik's mom."

  "Should we do something?" Yukari hissed. "We can't let Malik's mom be left outside like this."

  Raito looked at the gate, then back at Aisha Khan, who was now sobbing quietly into her hands.

  "Yeah," Raito said firmly, nodding. "We should."

  "Ma'am," Raito said softly, extending a hand to gently pull the old lady’s attention away from her grief. "Do you remember when is the last time you saw the invitation?"

  Aisha sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her weathered hand. "Oh, dear me... I know I still had it in my temporary lodgings. I was looking at it this morning, so proud..."

  "Temporary?" Yukari asked, tilting her head.

  "Yes, temporary. I did not come from around here, young lady," Aisha explained, her voice trembling. "I came from a much smaller village near the border. I rented a cheap, small room in the outskirts."

  "Then, can we help you check if the invitation is still there?" Raito asked, already stepping out of the booth.

  Aisha’s eyes widened in horror. "No, no, no! It’s alright, young man. The wedding is starting, and I certainly don't want you to miss it for a forgetful old lady like me."

  "It's alright, ma'am. We have time," Yukari said, stepping up to support Raito’s decision. Her voice was firm but kind. "Besides, we aren't really 'guests' right now. We're staff."

  "You will?" Aisha looked between them, fresh tears welling up, but these were different—tears of relief. "You two are so nice..."

  She tried to stand up on her shaky legs to lead the way, but Raito and Yukari gently stopped her.

  "Please, ma'am, sit here," Yukari said, guiding her to the chair inside the shaded booth. "We can't let you walk all the way back down and up again in this heat."

  "But... how will you two check my lodging without me?" she asked, puzzled.

  "We can just borrow a spare key from the lodgings staff," Raito said with a confident grin. "Just tell us the address."

  "Oh..." Aisha covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with emotion. "My child is so blessed to have friends like you two."

  Yup, Raito and Yukari thought simultaneously, she is definitely Malik's mom.

  Leaving Aisha under the watchful eye of a sympathetic guard, Raito and Yukari took off. They trudged down the winding stone streets toward the outskirts, asking directions from street vendors and playing children to ensure they didn't get lost in the labyrinth of Kah-Kamun.

  They found the lodging—a modest, sun-baked building with peeling paint. After flashing their royal wedding staff badges (which they had thankfully forgotten to take off), the receptionist nervously handed over the spare key.

  They burst into the small room. It was neat, smelling of dried herbs and old parchment. They tore through it. They checked the bedside table, under the mattress, inside the wardrobe, and even in the small clay water pot.

  Nothing.

  "Yeah, it's not here," Yukari said, closing a drawer with a sigh of frustration.

  Raito stood in the center of the room, tapping his chin. His eyes narrowed.

  "Then..." Raito announced dramatically, raising a finger. "It is time for Shi—"

  He began to twirl, preparing to don the invisible deerstalker hat of his alter ego.

  Crack.

  Ice instantly encased his right foot, freezing him mid-twirl.

  "No Shillook," Yukari glared, her eyes glowing with a faint, menacing blue light. "Absolutely no Shillook."

  "Yes, ma'am," Raito squeaked, saluting as he tried to wiggle his frozen toes.

  Meanwhile, inside the grand palace courtyard, the atmosphere was thick with emotion.

  The ceremony was proceeding smoothly. The sun filtered through colored glass canopies, casting rainbows over the thousands of hushed guests. Malik and Samira stood at the altar, hands clasped.

  They were sharing their journey, their voices amplified by the acoustics of the ancient walls.

  "I never knew," Malik said, his voice thick with emotion, looking at Samira with wonder. "I never knew that the girl I saved from that stray dog all those years ago... was you."

  A collective gasp went through the crowd.

  "I fell in love with you that day," Samira admitted, tears streaming down her face, ruining her perfect makeup in the most beautiful way possible. "You were just a boy with a stick, defending me against a beast. You were my hero then, and you are my hero now."

  It was a revelation that struck Malik’s heart. He realized that their connection wasn't political, nor was it recent. It was fate, woven years ago in a dusty alleyway. Tears flowed freely from the guests. Even King Ahmed was weeping openly into a silk handkerchief.

  And outside the walls, oblivious to the beautiful revelation, Raito and Yukari were running like headless chickens. They sprinted from street stall to street stall, retracing the old lady’s steps, asking everyone they saw if they had seen a fancy envelope, their tuxedo and dress covered in dust as the clock ticked down.

  Their frantic search led them to a bustling open-air restaurant near the market square, where the scent of saffron rice and grilled lamb hung heavy in the air. A young waiter, balancing a tray of tea, paused when they showed him the description.

  "Oh, that old lady?" The waiter pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Yeah, I saw her. She opened her bag to pay for a drink, and a gust of wind took a white envelope right out of it."

  "Where?" Raito asked, breathless. "Where did it go?"

  The waiter grimaced and pointed downward. Specifically, to a rusted iron grate set into the cobblestones. The dark, damp, and distinctly uninviting mouth of the city’s sewer system.

  Raito stared at the grate. He could hear the trickle of water below. It didn't smell like rose water.

  "So..." Raito turned slowly to Yukari, gesturing weakly to the grate. "Do we?"

  Yukari looked down at her tailored black dress, then at the slime coating the iron bars. She looked back at Raito with a gaze that could have shattered diamonds.

  "In this dress?" She hissed. "No. Absolutely not."

  "Then can you go deliver the bad news to the old lady?" Raito suggested, hopeful.

  "Also not that," Yukari crossed her arms.

  "Then what should we do?" Raito whined, panic rising as the distant trumpets signaled the ceremony was nearing its end.

  Yukari stared at him, then at the grate, and a devious light entered her eyes.

  "I have an idea," she said.

  Inside the Great Hall, the ceremony had reached its zenith. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the palpable love of a nation. King Ahmed was sniffling loudly into his handkerchief. Queen Aleena looked regal and proud.

  The High Priest raised his hands, his voice booming through the silent hall.

  "Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony," the Priest intoned, the traditional words hanging in the air, "speak now, or forever hold your peace."

  It was a formality. A rhetorical question. No one ever spoke.

  BANG!

  The massive oak doors at the back of the hall swung open with a violence that shook the tapestries.

  "WAIT!"

  A voice cracked through the silence, desperate and loud.

  Every head turned. A thousand pairs of eyes shifted from the altar to the entrance.

  Standing there, framed by the blinding sunlight from the courtyard, was Raito. But he was no longer the dapper gentleman from the morning. His tuxedo was sodden, clinging to his frame. Dark, suspicious stains covered his white shirt. He dripped a puddle of murky water onto the pristine red carpet, and a waft of... something pungent... drifted into the hall.

  Next to him, pinching her nose with two fingers and looking like she wanted to be anywhere else in the world, was Yukari. She was holding the hand of a bewildered Aisha Khan.

  "What is the meaning of this?!" King Ahmed stood up, his sorrow forgotten, replaced by royal confusion.

  Raito stepped forward, his shoes squelching audibly in the dead silence.

  "Your Majesty! I have my reason!" Raito announced, pointing a dripping finger at the altar. "Malik's mother! She is here, and she is late! She must be present to watch her child's precious moment!"

  A silence deeper than the ocean fell over the room. It was the kind of silence where you could hear a pin drop, or in this case, a drop of sewer water hitting the floor. Plip.

  Malik blinked. He looked at Raito, then at Aisha, then back at Raito.

  "What are you talking about?" Malik asked, his voice echoing slightly. He gestured to the front row, directly to the right of King Ahmed and Queen Aleena. "My parents are right here."

  An elegant couple, looking very confused but definitely present, waved awkwardly at Raito.

  Raito froze. His arm dropped.

  Yukari froze. She slowly took her fingers off her nose.

  They turned to each other, a look of pure, unadulterated horror dawning on their faces.

  Then, slowly, like rusty machines, they turned their heads to the old lady standing between them.

  "Ma'am..." Yukari whispered, her voice trembling. "Your child is that guy, right?" She pointed at Malik.

  Aisha squinted at the altar. "No? My child is a woman."

  Raito felt his soul leaving his body. "Then... why are you here?"

  "She told me to come here and see the royal wedding because it is very special," Aisha explained innocently. "Though I am not sure why it is special for us specifically."

  Then who? Raito and Yukari screamed internally.

  "Mother?"

  A voice called out from the side of the altar. A familiar, exasperated voice.

  Mila, dressed in her purple bridesmaid gown, walked quickly down the steps, her face a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

  "Oh! Mila!" Aisha’s face lit up. "Why didn't you come and greet your mother outside?"

  "Because I didn't know you would actually come!" Mila hissed, reaching her mother and taking her hands.

  "Well, you told me in your letter that today is your 'special day'," Aisha said, patting Mila’s cheek. "So I thought it involved you getting married, so I had to come!"

  "Mom..." Mila sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of a thousand misunderstandings. "I meant I was a bridesmaid. That's the special part."

  "Oh." Aisha blinked. "Oh. That makes more sense. You still haven't found a husband then?"

  The hall remained silent.

  Raito and Yukari stood there. The wet, smelly, interruption.

  They looked at the King. They looked at the Priest. They looked at the thousands of guests.

  They nodded once, solemnly.

  "Please continue," Raito squeaked, his face burning so hot it could have dried his clothes.

  They began to walk backward, step by step, toward the door. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

  They reached the threshold, grabbed the handles, and pulled the doors shut with a soft click.

  Inside, the Priest stood with his mouth open. "Then... you may kiss the bride?" he said, sounding unsure if reality was still intact.

  Mila quickly dragged her mother to an empty seat in the front row, burying her face in her hands.

  A giggle started somewhere in the back. Then a chuckle. Then, Bob let out a massive, booming "Hohoho!" that broke the dam. The room filled with laughter—warm, relieved, and joyous laughter. Old friends and families of Raito and Yukari shook their heads, wiping tears of mirth from their eyes.

  At the altar, Samira smiled at Malik, a radiant, blinding thing.

  Malik smiled back, and for the first time all day, his shoulders truly relaxed. The tension, the anxiety, the fear—it was all gone, washed away by the sheer absurdity of the moment.

  "Could you believe those two?" Malik whispered, shaking his head.

  "Yes, I can," Samira laughed. "That's why they are the best. The ever-chaotic couple. We should try to be more like them."

  "Absolutely not," Malik rejected the notion immediately.

  He leaned in. Their eyes closed. Lips met.

  And in the heart of the desert, amidst laughter and love, they became husband and wife.

  Outside the heavy oak doors, the hallway was quiet.

  Raito leaned against the stone wall, sliding down until he hit the floor. He smelled like stagnation and regret. Yukari leaned next to him, pristine but emotionally drained.

  "Why..." Raito stared at the ceiling. "Why did I have to dive into that sewer?"

  Yukari looked at him, then at the puddle forming around him. She shrugged. "Uhhh.... good luck getting that smell out?"

  "This was your plan!" Raito complained, throwing his hands up. "You said 'I have an idea'!"

  "My idea was to find the invitation!" Yukari shot back. "Not to interrupt the wedding like a swamp monster!"

  They glared at each other for a second. Then, the sound of cheers erupted from inside the hall, muffled but undeniable.

  They both sighed, tipping their heads back against the wall. They looked out the window at the vast, clear Zarateph’s sky.

  "I hate royal weddings," they said in unison.