The music and laughter muted when Garten shut the door. It was nearly midnight, and the festivities continued on. He almost felt sick, watching them laugh and dance without a care in the world.

Sween and Whittle were the happiest.

Garten sat down on the steps, staring at the ground. It could've been him, taking the hand of Sween and putting a ring on it, if he had been quick enough. If he could turn back time, he could've been home and proposed to Sween. He wouldn't have to feel the horrible twisted feeling in his chest that tightened painfully whenever he saw his family. It was horrible, making him want to throw up and just lay on the ground for ages simultaneously, and it only worsened on the wedding day.

"Garten?"

Jupiter's voice broke Garten out of his thoughts. The king was at the doorway, a worried look on his face.

"Yeah?" Garten asked, forcing his voice into one of calm. In a year, Jupiter would be dead. That's what the plan was, according to the wolves. One year for Jupiter to know his children better, one more year, one year for Whittle and Sween to be happily married, one year for Wilfred's daughter to grow up.

"You good? I saw you sneaking out," Jupiter said, sitting down next to him. "You looked overwhelmed."

"it's just..." Garten gestured vaguely at the house. "Really loud."

"It's more than that, isn't it?" Jupiter said softly.

Garten scowled and looked away from his friend's concerned look. "No, it's not. You can go back in, now."

"Hm," Jupiter said. "Garten, I've known you since we were kids. You really think that I'll be fooled by whatever lie you conjure up?"

Garten stiffened at Jupiter's joking tone. It was almost ironic, how Jupiter had so much trust in him, but Garten was actively planning his downfall. Jupiter didn't really know Garten, right? His thoughts were a jumbled mess of bitterness and anger, so much that Garten could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping up on him.

"Plus, you really were not as subtle with Sween as you think you were," Jupiter added.

Garten barely acknowledged him, trying to tune out the words that fell from the king's mouth. He didn't want to talk about it, he didn't, but somehow he felt compelled to stay.

"Look, Garten," Jupiter said. "Sween just wasn't meant to be with you."

Was she?

"You'll find someone," Jupiter said awkwardly, when Garten still refused to answer. "Just...don't resent Whittle for being happy."

Too late.

Jupiter stood up and smiled at his friend. "Come back in when you're ready. We're your family, Garten, we'll be there for you."

Garten turned to watch Jupiter enter the house again, the laughter filling the night air when the door opened, before muting again. He stared blankly at the door for a few minutes, thoughts running a mile a minute.

I'm so sorry, Jupiter.

Garten stood up and adjusted his suit. One year. 365 days, and Morbin would strike with Garten's aid.

He looked inside the window, saw his family dancing and laughing. He saw Wilfred swinging his small daughter around, Jupiter's children deeply invested in a card game, and his eyes zeroed in on the happy married couple.

It should've been him.