Bow, Your Highness

Chapter 14: Stormy Wedding

Two pale hands adjusted the black haori, pulling at the edges. Scaramouche watched his serious reflection in the mirror with complete indifference. His indigo eyes were influenced by the frown on his brow. The thin line of his lips tightened slightly.

The wedding day had arrived, and tradition made him dress for the occasion. In a few hours, it would all be over -This time, for real.

He reflected on how he had never had time to conceive the idea of marriage - For he always focused on one thing: his ambition to be emperor. Likewise, he dictated once he achieved it, along with the rest of his goals, only then, perhaps, would he pursue his blood legacy. At least, he did so before he was denied ascension to the throne.

Now, not only did he have to focus on the wedding but also on something inevitable and irreparable that would happen after it.

He was to challenge Ei to a duel to death.

Only the winner would get the gnosis and, thus, the throne. Fantasies of killing her remained in his mind like a vengeful whisper. So Scaramouche did not understand why there was a quickening in his chest – Nor the suffocating air in his lungs. All of them increased every time he saw anemo vision on the dressing table. He also had a plan if the change of this one failed. No detail would escape him on this occasion. He was prepared. In his pocket, he had something he hoped he would not have to use.

A reflection triggered something that provoked the same reactions as before, only in a very different way.

"Are you done?"

Mona had started getting ready long before he did, so it was logical she was done. Scaramouche turned immediately to look her up and down. Despite looking like a silk cocoon through the white hood, the image caught him so off guard he even blushed. For a woman who always wore such dark colours, white suited her like a glove.

He was going to marry Mona, convenience or not – That factor and the other were the only obvious ones in the whole affair. The rest would be unknown. Perhaps, it would be the last act he would commit before his death. He advanced towards her with a smirk on his face.

"You look like a cocoon." Mona arched an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes. Her gaze lay on his hair.

"I look like you, then?"

"Asshole..." Scaramouche grabbed the edges of the wataboshi and pushed them down. Mona had an updo very similar to the one from her vision ceremony – only a white flower adorned her hair instead of those little silver stars. "Much better – You don't need to wear that thing."

"Tell that to the stylists you sent me."

"Of course I will – As long as it's traditional clothing, you don't have to wear it as dictated." Scaramouche's hands continued their course to her cheeks. He silently admired the make-up that accentuated her beauty even more. "You're a butterfly now."

"Hey, don't smudge my face." Mona put her hands under his and took them. Surely, there was a blush under that layer of whatever the make-up was called . "The queen butterfly, by the way." She qualified, smiling slightly and taking them lower.