Page 132 of Alien Prince's Fake Bride
“I wish we could have guests from Earth,” he says. “But we’ll invite some of them to our ship when we go there. The wedding will be over, but we might find a reason to arrange other parties.”
- - -
The ceremony takes longer than on Grefve, but it’s pretty much the same procedure. This time our rings shine bright,but Mareliux doesn’t faint, and neither do I. And swords and knives don’t randomly fly around the room, which is a relief to everyone, most of all me.
This time I’ve opted for a dress more in the Khavgren style, where the traditional wedding color is sky blue for women. As a nod to my Space Force background, the shoes are black and resemble the ones I wore on Grefve, and the dress has discrete accents with a green camouflage pattern. My hair is adorned to be discrete without hiding the fact that I don’t have tendrils like the Khavgrens do. Only Mareliux and Sigise, who is my maid of honor again, know that I’m still carrying the little gun knife. It’s not that I don’t trust the new guard battalion that Prince Nerox organized in a week, it’s more that I feel confident with a weapon on me.
It’s the first time I see Mareliux wearing clothing on his upper body, but today he’s dressed in his full gala uniform as Supreme Marshal of the Khavgren armed forces. It shines like bronze armor, but it’s really fabric that’s woven from threads so fine that I can’t tell them apart, even from up close. It has all kinds of colorful details, and the cut emphasizes his powerful build. The effect is enhanced by the light blue cape he wears, perfectly matching mine. In other words, he looks so stunning that I keep catching myself staring at him.
The Emperor is there, sitting on a simple, wooden chair that’s been placed a little to the side. The pontifex is a higher-ranking one than back at the army base, and he wears a taller hat and more elaborate robes. He has a strong voice that echoes through the stone chamber.
The occasion is solemn, but it feels more like a theater than the first time. The wedding on Grefvewasthe real one, in the important ways. It was raw and genuine emotionally, even if nodocument was signed. This is more like confirming things that we’ve already done, and that’s perfectly fine. Our vows are the same as last time, except this time we both mean them fully and we add more emphasis on certain words. I wipe more than one tear.
The temple is full of nobles and officials and ambassadors, all quiet through the ceremony.
When we’re done, we bow to the Emperor, he nods benevolently, and then we walk out.
Outside there’s an elaborate setup made from white stone and dark wood. On top of it are two big sheets of copper-like metal.
We go over and place our hands on one sheet, close to each other. We both send some Syntrix through our hands, making an imprint that serves as our signatures.
When we’ve signed both wedding documents, Mareliux turns. “Witnesses, please. Quaestor Preniat! You were so disappointed last time. Come here and sign!” His voice is hard.
The tension is high as the quaestor shuffles forwards past the other nobles and places his hand on both documents, making a weak, ghostly imprint next to our deep ones.
Two others do the same, and Mareliux lifts both signed documents and holds them up two inches from Preniat’s face. “Is this good enough, Quaestor? Do you agree that this document has been properly signed and that Princess Umbra and I are married?”
“I do,” the quaestor creaks, looking uncomfortable with the attention.
“No, that’sourline,” Mareliux jokes and the crowd of nobles chuckle. “Very well, Quaestor. Let’s have no more ill will. The Phrexz is dead and you can still redeem yourself. Start by giving these on to the House of Nobles.” He pushes the metal plates into the quaestor’s arms and turns to me. “Now, my love, my wife, my Soulbound, we’ll meet therealKhavgrens.”
He takes my hand and we climb straight into a gunship that’s been painted in blue and adorned with our combined crest. The Khavgren don’t use letters as such, but their symbol for Mareliux’s name looks mostly like a circle with wings. It’s artfully intertwined with my symbol, which is a simple English ‘U’. The effect is striking and reminds me of an eagle with its talons out, or maybe one of those alien pterodactyls that almost got us on that jungle planet. It’s a powerful symbol, and the city is full of banners and flags that feature it.
The gunship takes off, flanked by two others.
“Oh, look!” I lean over Mareliux to look out the window.
From this height we have a great view of the millions of people that fill every street and every square of the palace city, only to get a glimpse of us. They wave flags and banners.
The pilot has the good sense to fly low and slow, so that everyone understands that it’s us. I swear the cheers can be heard even inside the heavily armed gunship, over the noise from the engines.
“They’re excited,” Sigise observes, looking out on the other side. “The whole city is absolutely trembling. I can’t recall having heard of even an Emperor’s wedding being celebrated with this kind of passion. But of course we never had a couple like you two.”
Mareliux squeezes my hand and leans in to sniff my hair. “Not since Aderianux and Bavinet, anyway.”
The Syntrix itself is trembling with joy and excitement. The people of Khav really see this as a victory. The story of Juriniel’s impostor has been reported all over the Empire, and I’m impressed about how correct and honest it is. There’s been no attempt to make anyone look better, not even the Emperor. If anything, the news stories have played down Mareliux’s role in defeating that deadly Phrexz and emphasized the heroism of Sigise, Nerox and Dester Espi. And mine, I suppose. Although I didn’t feel at all heroic at the time. But I think it’s a good way to start my marriage with their favorite prince.
“Remarkable,” Nerox says, leaning his head on the window as he looks down. “They must really like both of you. I can understand them loving Umbra, because who wouldn’t. But I suppose they see some good in you too, Mareliux. Maybe you’re not a totally lost cause.”
Mareliux chuckles. “Not as lost as you, certainly. At least I was finally found by Umbra. Who will findyou,Nerox the fake Throne-sitter?”
“Oh, nobody will find me,” the young prince says with a grin. “Because there’s a short distance between being found and being tied down. I’ll be a happy bachelor prince for as long as I live. Doing my best to spoil your children every chance I get. I’ll be their fun and demented uncle! They’llloveme.”
We land on a secluded ledge of an ancient palace, as white as snow and as elaborately decorated as a wedding cake. I don’t think that’s the intention with that architecture, but the similarity secretly amuses me.
Even here, hidden from everyone, the noise of the waiting crowd is deafening. Inside the palace the din is dampened by the thick walls, but as we make our way to the side of the building that faces the Square of Heroes, it gradually increases again. One wall is all windows, and the door to the balcony is flanked by two of the new Calanians.
“They know we’re in here now,” Mareliux says, looking out a window. “Let’s not make them wait.”
