Chapter 9: "Why Am I Running To the Wedding?!"
So here's the thing.
Technically?
Legally?
Spiritually?
I'm married.
To Princess Petunia.
I don't know how. I don't know why. I think I signed something in soup. But according to the Royal Decree of Matrimonial Convenience (Article VI, Paragraph Three: Oops), I am officially husband to a woman who believes spoons are psychic.
And now I'm running back to her.
> "WHY are we running toward the wedding again?!" Arcanos yells as we barrel down a cobblestone street.
> "Because if I don't show up, the kingdom gets dissolved into a salad bar!" I pant.
> "...That's the dumbest threat I've ever heard and yet I completely believe it."
Kevin soars overhead, honking battle commands.
Grubnuk rides a shopping cart down the hill, waving a ladle like a knight's lance.
> "FULL SPEED TO LOVE!" he shouts. "OR SOMETHING RESEMBLING IT!"
We arrive at the cathedral.
It's in ruins.
The guests are unconscious or tied to chairs with licorice.
A floral arrangement is on fire.
Petunia is sobbing into a wedding cake while holding my old sock.
> "YOU CAME BACK FOR ME," she wails.
> "Honestly? I don't know what I'm doing anymore," I say.
Arcanos sighs. "Well, too late now. The priest is already halfway through the ritual. You're locked in."
> "Do you, uh... take this barely-functioning adventurer to be your lawfully wedded bewilderment?"
> "I DO," Petunia yells, clutching my arm.
> "Do you?" the priest asks me.
I pause.
Look around.
Kevin is clapping. Grubnuk is trying to eat the bouquet. Arcanos is reading a book titled "How to Emotionally Cope When Your Friend Marries a Cupcake."
> "...Sure. Why not. Kingdom's doomed anyway."
> "By the barely recognized power of chaotic contracts and romantic confusion, I now pronounce you STILL PROBABLY DOOMED."
Everyone cheers.
The cake explodes.
A dove lays an egg out of pure stress.
And just like that, I am once again... married.
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End of Chapter 9 (Love is war. And cake is flammable.)