Sven hadn't been able to sleep, between half-healed injuries, nerves, and missing Romelle in his arms. By sunrise, he was in the family kitchen, making coffee and writing a note to Romelle.

Keith found him there when he came in from his Tai Chi. "Morning," he said quietly, grabbing a cup of coffee and dropping into a chair.

Sven looked at him miserably. "I vould not know. I did not sleep at all last night. Lance vill be delighted to know I am a nervous wreck for de first time in my life." He made a face at his coffee and pushed it away. "I tink I vill trow up."

"You will do no such thing," Keith countered in his commander's voice. He took the coffee from Sven. "Lay off this stuff; the acid isn't going to help your stomach." He got up and rummaged through the refrigerator and cabinets, coming up with leftover rice, milk, sugar, and some raisins. "I know you don't feel like it, but you need to eat. Romelle will kill us if you pass out during the ceremony. I'll make you my Oba-chan's rice pudding. Easy on your stomach." He put the rice in a pot and started the recipe.

Sven turned his chair to watch Keith at the stove. "Vhat if I am making a mistake?" he said softly. "Keit, vhat if I am ruining her life? She deserves better dan me, a prince to take care of her."

Keith looked up at him, startled. "Sven, to her, you are a prince. You saved her life and she loves you. Besides, from what I have seen of the princes coming to court Allura, you are more noble and a better match to Romelle than any of them."

Lance came in, yawning, as Keith finished his statement. "Hell yeah, you're better than the damned princes. More like princesses, actually." He wrapped his arms around Keith's waist, sniffing the pot appreciatively. "Rice pudding! You haven't made that since finals. . ." he turned to look at Sven. "Holy hells. Are you actually nervous?"

"Yes, and DON'T start vit me, McClain," Sven snapped. "I do not need your smart mouth."

Lance's eyes widened, and he took the chair next to Sven. "I wasn't going to start, not today," he said quietly. "Look, relax. None of this formal bullshit really matters. What's important is that you're going to marry the girl you love, that loves you. Everything and everyone else can go straight to hell."

Sven sighed. "You are right. I'm sorry, Lance. You did not deserve that."

"No biggie," Lance grinned. "I'll earn it before the day's over, I'm sure." He glanced at the paper Sven had in front of him. "What's that?"

Sven actually felt himself blush. "A letter to Romelle. I haf not been able to see or talk to her for two days. Royal tradition. I. . . just vanted to let her know I loved her and vas tinking of her dis morning." One of Romelle's maids came into the kitchen; he quickly added a line to the letter, folded it, and handed it to her. "Please, can you take dis to Princess Romelle?"

The girl gave him a haughty look. "Our orders are that she is to have no contact with you before the ceremony, Commander."

"Damned good thing we don't have those orders." Lance reached over and snatched the paper from the girl. "I'll take this to Romelle, Sven." He tucked it inside his jacket and left the kitchen after stealing a kiss from Keith. The maid sniffed and went about her duties.

Keith finished the rice pudding and dished up a bowl, setting it in front of Sven with an air that said he expected it to vanish. Sven reluctantly picked up the spoon and dug in grimly, getting a bit more enthusiastic after the first taste. Keith nodded in approval and sat across from him. "How are you feeling? Aside from the nerves, I mean."

Sven looked up with a sigh. "How do you tink, Keit? Tree veeks ago I fell from de top of Castle Doom. I vish ve could vait on dis, but. . .de people of Pollux are not happy dat Romelle and I haf been sleeping together, and dis is de only vay to make it right."

"Yeah, I know." Keith glared until Sven started eating again. "Are you going to be all right for the ceremony?"

"For Romelle, I vill," Sven said firmly. "I can do anyting for her." He ate in silence for a while, Keith watching him. Finally, he pushed the bowl away. "I should go start getting ready."

Keith nodded. "So should I. And if I don't check Lance's uniform, he'll leave half his medals off." He got to his feet and clapped Sven on the shoulder. "See you in front of the cathedral in three hours."

"Tank you, Keit. For everyting." Sven rose and followed him out, going to his room and laying his dress uniform out.

Meanwhile, Lance had made his way into the Royal wing and to Romelle's suite. At the door, he was met by Romelle's governess, Lady Catera. "You may not enter," she scowled, folding her arms across her scrawny chest. "Her Highness is not dressed."

"Oh, come on," Lance protested. "I am married, gay, and know what Sven would do to anyone who looked at Romelle funny. I'm the safest man in this castle to be in that room. Please; Sven and Romelle are my friends; just let me talk to her for a minute!"

"And how do I know that you are not bringing communication from Commander Holgersson?" The scowl had not lightened, and for a second Lance marveled that someone so scrawny could channel Nanny so well.

He regained his focus and straightened, every inch the Garrison officer he usually tried to avoid being. "I swear to you, on my honor as a Garrison officer and a Voltron Force pilot, Commander Holgersson gave me no messages for Princess Romelle."

Lady Catera looked unconvinced, but a husky contralto came from inside the room. "Let Commander McClain in, Catera. I want to talk to him." The governess snorted in disapproval, but moved aside and let Lance come in.

Romelle sat at her dressing table in her lingerie, maids on all sides; one fussing with her tiara, one doing her makeup, one doing her nails, and one at her feet slipping on ivory satin heels. As Lance came in, the princess quickly shooed them all out and turned to face him. "He's going to call it off, isn't he?" she asked without preamble. "I had a feeling he would. . . I haven't heard anything from him in two days and. . . ." tears welled up in her dark blue eyes.

"Hey now, none of that," Lance said gently, perching on the edge of her vanity and handing her his handkerchief. "Are you kidding? Sven's nervous as hell, but he's not calling off anything. He loves you, Romelle. He's just following that royal tradition of yours about not seeing each other before the wedding."

Romelle stopped dabbing her eyes and looked at him in confusion. "What royal tradition? The only tradition we have is that he can't see me in my wedding dress. Who told him that?"

"One of your courtiers—Lord Allessar, I believe." Lance shook his head. "I am NOT telling Sven he could've been with you all this time. We don't have time to clean the blood up before the ceremony."

Romelle was fuming. "I will deal with Lord Allessar. He was one of the main ones who encouraged Father to . . . give me to Lotor." She started to stand; Lance pushed her back into her chair.

"Later," he advised. "This is your wedding day; don't let a stuffy old goat like that ruin it. Besides. . . " he reached into his jacket and took out Sven's note. "I didn't come here for that. I brought you a letter from Sven."

Her eyes flew wide and she grabbed the letter. "Lance! You swore that Sven didn't give you a letter for me!"

"And so he didn't," the lanky pilot grinned. "I took it from the maid he gave it to, who was refusing to bring it to you." He pushed to his feet. "I've gotta go climb in my uniform; Keith's going to have a fit if I'm late."

Romelle looked up from the letter, eyes shining. "Thank you, Lance, for everything."

"Thank YOU." Lance knelt beside her, taking her hand. "He nearly died because of me, and you brought him back to us. I'll always owe you for that, Romelle." He kissed her cheek gently, then got up and slipped out as the maids rushed back in.

In the room he and Keith shared, Lance found his dress uniform laid out, and grimaced to see the medals in order. He felt silly wearing all of them, and usually took at least half of them off if he could get away with. But the uniform being laid out meant Keith had checked it before getting in the shower, and would know if he took any of them off.

When Keith came out, black hair still dripping, Lance ducked into the shower, cleaning up and carefully shaving. By the time he came out, Keith had dried his hair and styled it into its usual disorder, and was fastening up his uniform tunic. Lance quickly dried his own hair and dressed, then the two of them met Hunk, Pidge, and Sven outside. The original Voltron Force then headed for the Cathedral of Pollux, to see one of them become part of a new team.