My apologies. I didn't make it clear that the last chapter wasn't the ending. There's going to be an omake after this one, and it's done. Now enjoy the royal wedding, my darlings.
Recap: Louise (Germany) apparently has big feet, Maria (Prussia) doesn't care that it's the late 18th century, and Toris (Lithuania) was right about the tracking device all along. Oh, dear. XD
High Standards: A Hetalicized Cinderella Story
Chapter Eleven: Perfect
"Ve… what's wrong, Louise?"
Louise is curled up on a chair in the kitchen, shivering in a little ball while Felicita rubs small circles in her back.
How did the Italian girl get into the house, you may ask? Well, Renate left the house, so everyone was forced to search for their own food for once. Maria had run off to buy something from the market, and Louise had tried to boil water. Stepmother just sighed and went to bed. Two seconds after setting the wood under the stove on fire, Felicita breaks in, screaming that her pasta radar was going off. And then she shoves Louise out of the way to do the cooking.
"I have a bad feeling Maria is about to do something incredibly stupid…."
It was the day of the royal wedding, which was to take place in the gorgeous Palace Garden this bright, warm sunny day. As mentioned at the closing of the last chapter, the ceremony was paid for by coupons, but this is not a heavily broadcast fact, and for good reason.
After all, this was not some ordinary wedding. This was a royal wedding. There would be lots of media attention, and image was very important. While Renate understood this, she also realized how close she was to becoming Princess Renate. This was an opportunity to begin living like she had the power and influence to have people killed, or institute a ridiculous amount of fees for things like toothpicks and commemorative wedding rings. Why? Because she can.
With the help of her fiancé, Renate turned an hour of standing in a designer dress into the greatest money-making scheme ever.
Here's how it works: in order to attend the wedding, you either have to be super-close to the royal couple, or you buy a ticket for a seat. Since the cheap raffle tickets are sold in packages of 500, and Prince Vash only bought one roll, they are in high demand, going for $1300 each.
Don't worry if you can't afford to sit. You can always pay $300 to stand, or be an usher for free (and go through a thorough background check). Journalists and members of the media get a special discount, but since there are camera fees, interview fees, etc, they might as well just pay for the stupid $1300 seat and sneak in a tape recorder.
Let's break away for a second and visit hypothetical land and say you haven't arrived yet. Which is cool, but not when a freak power outage around 3 a.m. resets your alarm clock so it's blinking 12:00. What's more, you forget to set the alarm on your cellphone to act as a backup.
The wedding's set to begin at 2:45 p.m. You are one of the lucky ones who is working at the wedding, so you can get in for free. However, the workers are supposed to show up fifteen minutes early.
You wake up when a polar bear sits on your chest, demanding food. You move to shove him off, but since an object in motion stays in motion, or something like that, you end up falling on the floor.
The good news is that the night before, you were too drunk to care about where your clothes landed, so you dumped them by the side of the bed before collapsing on the mattress. The bad news is that when you fell, a loud crunching noise reached your ears from a cellphone in a pants pocket buried beneath your weight.
Sound familiar? That's because you are one of the few people who remember your name is Matthew Williams.
"Damn it, Kumafuma. Why didn't you wake me up? I'm going to be late!"
"Who?"
Case in point.
"Matthew…" He muttered, putting on his glasses.
After throwing on his guard uniform, making some pancakes for himself and Kumajirou, he checked the bowl on the shelf by the back door for his coach keys (instead of car keys XD), and then remembered something very important.
Last night the members of the Royal Guard were at Prince Vash's bachelor party. Since the groom was such a stingy bastard, everyone was forced to bring their own beer. And what was the entertainment, you may ask?
They shot rounds at the Royal Firing Range.
Matthew shivered at the memory. Whosever idea that was needs to jump in front of a speeding train, or be the one who has to buy vodka when the King runs out, or be locked in the same room as King Ivan when the vodka ran out.
Sorry, that's just too mean... whoever you are.
Matthew digresses. The point is, a lot of idiots got drunk and started pointing guns at things that may or may not have had a target on them. Thank God no one got hurt, although Alfred took his ride last night, so Matthew had to bum a ride from a complete stranger who may or may not have been a creepy porn star dude. Or he might have just been French, Matthew hasn't decided yet.
So his coach was gone, and now it was running on 2:02, according to his watch with a little maple leaf on the face.
Maple, maple MAPLE!
"Watch the house for me, okay, Kumakichi?"
"Who?"
"… Whatever, I don't have time for this."
After ten agonizing minutes, Matthew managed to hail a taxi, and then another fifteen minutes passed for him to get to the Palace Garden. And since the wedding guests were being nickeled and dimed everywhere, there were long lines extending far away from even the Palace entrance itself.
While Matthew was a very patient person, King Ivan wasn't. And all of the guards were expected to attend as groomsmen for Prince Vash (Alfred was best man, lucky jerk). So waiting in line was definitely not an option, and he was too polite to just barge his way in. Matthew crossed his arms, frowning. What other options were there?
He could pose as a member of the media, but he didn't have a camera, or the $150 camera fee. Hmm…
"Hey you! Yeah, you! The cutie in the uniform!"
Matthew didn't even notice the girl trying to get his attention until a slim pale hand tilted his chin down. And then all thoughts were cancelled out by the demanding gaze of those deep crimson eyes.
"M-maple!"
The albino in the black sequined top, plaid mini-skirt, and shiny black combat boots ignored his girly exclamation, shifting the guitar case on her back instead. Was she working at the wedding, too?
"Tell you what, Birdie," Maria said, taking him by the wrist, "You're gonna help me with my awesome plan."
"Huh?" Matthew tried to pull away, but geez, her grip was strong. He would almost bet that she was a lot stronger than Alfred.
"Look, with my awesome charisma and charm, and your knowledge of the layout of this joint, we'll be able to crash that wedding – no trouble at all!"
"B-but-"
"You were planning on going anyway, riiiight?"
The way she held his hand, the confidence of her actions, and the determination in her eyes… they would only lead to trouble. Matthew knew that very well.
Trouble was annoying, like Alfred when he tries to get Kumahito high because he thinks it'd be hilarious, or when Matthew gets beat up as a result of one of his brother's "pranks".
But without trouble, life was stagnant. Trouble is what breaks Matthew's routine of sitting around the house with nothing to do, and no one to talk to.
It gives him a chance to truly live.
"Y-yeah,"
Maria smirked.
"Well, c'mon, let's go!"
So far, to Renate, the wedding was going off without a hitch. The string quartet (made up of members of the military academy who owed favors to the Prince) were softly playing "Canon in D", the 500 seats were packed with adoring subjects, the flower girl had dropped recycled Edelweiss petals from the garden, and Prince Vash stood at the small portable alter, with a facial expression that could only be described as pure boredom. Everything was going according to plan.
The final notes resonated in the air for a brief moment, getting completely swallowed up by the low rumble of the gossiping wedding guests.
…Yeah, that was pretty annoying.
But then the first few notes of "Here Comes the Bride" began, and as Renate unzipped the front of the camping tent she was hiding in (they agreed to save money by having her unzip it herself). Like a ripple turning into a tidal wave, the mass of people stood as Renate mentally prepared herself for her moment of glory.
Immediately, the clicking of cameras and tiny flashes of light threatened to overwhelm her as the bride took her first step down the aisle. Everyone was stunned by her dress, a shimmery ball gown with a small train (so no one would have to be hired to carry it). The lower part of the skirt was decorated with beading in free-form flower shapes that sparkled with a pale blue color in the light. Around her waist was a matching blue sash, which was the same color as the ribbon tied around her bouquet of Edelweiss flowers.
From the twentieth row or so on her left, Renate just happened to spot her fairygod…thing. Whatever. At least he had the decency to show up in a normal suit and tie (sans the wings). One moment, he was crying, and the next, punching Francis in the face. Somehow, they ended up sitting next to each other, and Francis was trying to be "Friendly". Oh, well. Not her problem.
Renate was now only five feet from the alter, a soft smile on her lips. She was only a breath away from her dream, her major goal and life, her entire reason for being – to become a member of the aristocracy. And there was nothing that was going to get in the way of this perfect moment.
A burst of loud feedback ran through the system, and everyone covered their ears as Eduard, the sound technician, tried to figure out what exactly the problem was.
Following a length of instrument cable he didn't remember being there, Eduard looped his was around several chairs, ignoring the people he bumped into or alarmed as it led under the table selling programs ($10 each). Finally, he saw the end of the cord disappear into the dusty green tent that the bride was just standing in moments before her big debut.
Eyebrows knitted with both curiosity and annoyance, he crouched down the grasp the zipper at the front of the tent where the cord trail ended (the zipper was up a few inches to leave a little gap for the cable, so no worries, you sound techs out there).
As soon as he fully unzipped it, Eduard was shoved out of the way by an unseen force, and fell to the ground.
Slowly opening his eyes, he came face to face with a pair of black shiny combat boots. The albino peered down at him, grinning.
"You ready for this? EIN, SWEI, DREI, VIER!"
Wild electric guitar flooded the speakers as Maria walked over to a small vocal mic she had set up nearby, and Eduard rushed over to the board to balance out everything so that their eardrums won't explode. Which is a shame, King Ivan would really enjoy that spectacle.
Renate groaned, covering her eyes in shame. Even though she gave very specific instructions to the Royal Guard to not let any of her stepfamily in, Maria shows up anyway.
"What is that?" Prince Vash asks, staring at the strange girl on the sparkly black Fender.
The wedding guests behind them were head-banging. King Ivan was laughing and clapping along, telling his Grand Duke to thank Matvey for bringing some "awesome entertainment".
"…Your future sister-in-law."
"MARUKAITE CHIKYUU, MARUKAITE CHIKYUU, MARUKAITE CHIKYUU…"
Disclaimer: Hetalia. I don't own it. Or Cinderella. And now it's HAMMER-TIME!
My goodness, this was fun. The only thing I know about weddings comes from many years of working as a sound technician. In other words, waking up in time to mute the paster/minister/whatever before they start humming to the songs loudly. I seriously wish I had an epic wedding crasher like Prussia - I'd have the excuse to mess with the EQ, bwahahaha.
Many thanks to countrymagazine, who wishes to translate this story into Chinese. Go for it, amazing enthusiastic person, go for it. :D
