"Stella, dear, you look simply magnificent."

Stella looked back at Mother bemusedly. "I haven't even finished applying the foundation yet, Mum."

"I know that. I'm just saying you look gorgeous, even without makeup, " Mother said. Stella smirked proudly, elated to hear praise from her beloved parent. They could always find a connection through their shared appreciation for cosmetic presentation, even if they didn't talk often.

"But she could always look even prettier, right dear?" Father said as he leaned in to nuzzle Mother on the side of her neck. Mother giggled, caressing his jaw.

Father usually treated his wife like a princess. She fought hard to suppress her excitement for the wedding, as such excitement was unbecoming of a Lady like her. To think that she was soon to be a princess herself!

"Be careful with the mascara, girl. You'll be in the presence of Prince Stolas himself, and you don't want to appear older than your mother," Father said, receiving a playful slap against the shoulder from Mother.

"I know how to apply makeup, Father," Stella said, rolling her eyes. Father never appreciated her beauty as Mother did, but such was to be expected from him.

"Stella, the importance of this day cannot be understated. You will shape the future of our lineage," he said, gently laying a hand on her shoulder to not disrupt her eyeliner application. "We've shown you how to behave as a princess. We know your etiquette is well-rehearsed. So long as you keep your temper in check, no matter what…"

"Dad, I'm ready, trust me," Stella said as she finished touching up her appearance. "So long as Prince Stolas treats me as a princess, I shall treat him as my king."

"No matter what," Father repeated sternly.

Mother stepped up beside him. "Come now, don't scare our girl on her wedding day," she chastised before turning to Stella. "Dear, we are so, so proud of you. Your father is only so strict because he cares about you. And about us…" Mother said as she smiled at Father. "With your connection to royalty, you will enjoy many privileges, as will we."

"Yes, yes," Stella said curtly. "I'm aware of the political advantages of having a princess for a daughter." She stood from her seat, grabbed a Polaroid photo from the table, and looked over it. It was a picture of her soon-to-be husband, Prince Stolas. He was dressed in a button-up vest and slacks and appeared rather lanky and slouched over in stature. He certainly didn't exude an air of authority.

"Mum?" Stella asked.

Mother pulled away from Father, still smiling with the afterglow from his embrace. "Yes, dear?"

Stella hesitated. For a moment, she worried that asking such a question would get her in trouble. But it did no good to sit on uncertainty and let it blow up into something out of control.

She sighed. "What if… what if I don't like him?"

Mother and Father glanced at each other blankly. "So what if you don't like him?" Father said flatly, before Mother scoffed and clipped him in the shoulder with her hand.

"I just mean, what if he's-" Stella started, but Mother shushed her.

"What if he's not the one?" she said knowingly. She brushed a stray bit of fluff down on Stella's cheek. "That happens sometimes, dear. Quite often, really. Especially in royal circles."

"Indeed," Father said with a nod. "Love is just a little bonus that some couples are lucky enough to find."

Mother gave a half-hearted glare. Stella had never been perceptive, but even she could tell Mother begrudgingly agreed. She just didn't like the phrasing.

Yet something sat wrong in her heart. If love was just a lucky bonus…

"Mum, Father? Do you both love each other?"

Mother and Father glanced at each other, and Father began glancing around the room. Mother looked Stella in the eyes and nodded. "Yes, Dear. We love each other, and we always have."

Father nodded dismissively. "Now, no more speaking of this 'love' humbug. Money and status come first."

Stella smiled at that, feeling relief. Her parents weren't the gushy, doting parents that her friends all had, but they were memorable and distinct, like a fine custard topped with exotic berries. Mum was caring but vain, and Father was uncaring and pragmatic. So long as she had her parents, she could endure a scrawny prince, even if he didn't meet her desires.

Mother was right, after all. A prince was a prince. She could only hope that he conducted himself with as much grace as she did herself.

It wasn't long before the wedding preparations began, and soon enough, the wedding venue began to fill with several avian demons from both her side and from the Ars Goetia family. She had expected King Paimon to be there, but the king did not appear to have shown up for the wedding. She surmised he must have been busy.

Stella stood by the altar, alone, still waiting for her soon-to-be husband to show. He was supposed to have arrived by mid-day, and it had already been 15 minutes past. The crowd shifted impatiently in their seats, clearly looking to get on with the event.

The doors to the avenue swung open, and a group of imps led a tall, skinny Owl demon towards the altar. She straightened her back, rolled back her collars, and held her hands together at her waist, holding a stoic yet gentle gaze.

The two's eyes met as Stolas began to step up the stairs towards her. He seemed to deflate a bit. He looked down at the floor, seeming quite nervous. She presumed it must have been due to how big of a day it was for the both of them. Perhaps he was simply awestruck by her beauty!

The elderly priest clicked his tongue."The groom has arrived. If there are no objections, we may now commence the ceremony." He said, beckoning Stolas towards the altar.

Stella maintained a straight face, her expression emotionless as she looked ahead at her soon-to-be husband. There would be time to rejoice later, behind closed doors. Now was the time for stoicism, and she hoped Stolas would pull himself together.

"We are gathered here today to commemorate the hell-sworn union of man and woman, as permitted by King Paimon." The priest spoke as the crowd looked on.

Stella was excited about her social promotion and could barely contain her glee. However, she couldn't help but notice Prince Stolas seeming rather upset, distraught even.

The priest grabbed Stolas' hand with his own frail, bony hands, guiding them towards Stella. "Do you, Prince Stolas, accept Stella Noctis as your one true wife forevermore and for all of eternity?" he asked, gesturing his scepter to Stella.

The words "Forevermore and for all of eternity" seemed to crush down on the boy. She could see a look of panic cross Stolas' visage as he opened his mouth to speak. He turned to look at the crowd of royals staring expectantly at him. Dejectedly, he looked down at the floor.

"I do..." he muttered as if he was about to cry.

Stella felt slightly offended that someone would hesitate at all to accept her. Yet she reminded herself that this was likely a big step in his life. She could forgive him for being overwhelmed. She herself could hardly believe this was happening. After the ceremony, she would be sure to try to raise his spirits. A pretty young woman like herself would win him over eventually. It would only be a matter of time. That's what Father had always said.

The priest set his scepter down against the altar and grabbed her hands, guiding them into Stolas' hands. "And do you, Stella Noctis, take Prince Stolas Goetia as your one true husband forevermore and for all of eternity?" The priest said.

"I do." She almost wanted to give Stolas a supportive smile, but she knew such an expression of emotion at an event as formal as this would be uncouth. She opted to give him a slight nod of the head. It was a meager gesture but the most she could offer him in public.

The priest looked towards the crowd as he backed away from the two, leaving them holding hands. He raised his scepter to the crowd. "If anyone present knows of any reason why this couple should not be joined in unholy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." He glanced around the crowd, searching for anyone who would dare object and ruin this perfect ceremony.

The crowd remained silent. Stella couldn't help but feel a sense of paranoia that someone would rise and ruin her future or that someone would run through the door at the last second. But no objections came from the crowd. It was dead silent, besides a quiet, subdued sob next to her.

Stella looked over to see the prince beginning to cry, tears welling up in his eyes. Her own face grew concerned.

"I…" Stolas sobbed as he shook his head. "I don't wanna…I don't want this!" he cried out loud.

The music slowly stopped as several royals gasped in surprise, followed by a few huffs of indignation. Stella stared around in shock and disbelief. What was he doing? Had he lost his mind?

"Eh, you don't want to go through with the marriage?" the priest asked, confused. "Are you certain, child?"

Before Stolas could answer, an ominous bolt of thick, black smog burst through the ceiling and descended upon the ground.

The smog billowed upwards as it coalesced into a sinister, shadowy figure with two glowing, crimson eyes that pierced Stella's soul. She gasped in awe at the towering shadow that stood meters taller than them.

The dark void-like figure took the form of a tall, regal-looking owl demon with a crimson ethereal cape and a crown. Stella's jaw dropped. It was none other than King Paimon himself!

"What is the meaning of this?!" His voice boomed in outrage. "Why is my offspring, uh, fuck…Dolannn…not married yet?"

The priest checked his book, flipping through the pages. "Uh…Stolas, Your Majesty?" He asked, confused.

Paimon snapped his fingers. "Ah, that's the one. I can never remember his name, I really should have chosen something more catchy…" he muttered, tapping his chin.

He leaned over and grabbed Stolas by the back of his suit collar, lifting him up a bit. "Never mind that! Why is this boy not yet married? What's this nonsense about an objection?" He demanded, jostling Stolas around like a tiny doll in his grasp.

"I don't wanna, father! I don't wanna marry her!" he cried, flailing his spindly teenage arms about.

Stella's eyes widened in shock. "Wh…what…" she muttered, taking a step back. What did he mean he didn't want to marry her? How could he not want to! Did she not do her makeup right? Did she appear too harsh? No! She had done everything right!

"Bah! Humbug, my dear boy. Priest, make him say yes so we can get on with this arbitrary ceremony. I have more important things to do today than watch some fucking wedding," Paimon demanded.

The priest rubbed his chin, looking at the crying boy. "I don't quite know how to, your majesty. Nobody has ever objected before. I'm not sure how to proceed."

Stella mustered her courage to speak up. "N-no! But we're supposed to marry! I'm supposed to be a princess!" Stella whined indignantly as the crowd began to murmur to each other.

Paimon snaps his fingers at her. "Exactly! She gets it!" he said, abruptly dropping Stolas to the ground and clapping his hands together giddily. "Oh, you'll make the most lovely daughter. Or nephew. Or would it be grandnephew? Fuck family trees." Paimon shrugs and spins Stolas around, glaring at him.

"Stolas, we've talked about this. Marriage isn't about love, or any of that nonsense," Paimon said, grimacing at the thought. "It's about building connections and spreading influence to become more powerful. You don't have to love her, you just have to spend the rest of your eternal life with her." He patted the very much uncomforted Stolas on his head. This did little to assuage the boy.

"I won't do it, father! I won't!" he cried out, a bit more assertively.

Paimon tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hm. What joy could I possibly threaten to remove from the child's life in the name of fatherly motivation…?" he muttered to himself before leaning in close. He pulled Stolas near before whispering something in his ear. Stella couldn't quite tell what was said, but she saw Stolas' eyes widen, much to Paimon's blatant satisfaction. It had something to do with killing a circus clown, whatever that meant.

Stella looked out at the crowd, her eyes searching for her parents. Her mother had her hands clasped over her mouth in shock, a sentiment shared by many of the other royal attendees. Her father, however, had a seemingly emotionless look on his face, his eyes fixed on her with an unwavering stare.

It wasn't her fault! She had done everything right! Surely Father wouldn't be mad at her for Prince Stolas' incompetence!

"I…" She heard the prince beside her stutter and quickly spun to face him. He was wiping the tears from his eyes, seemingly hesitant to speak. "I apologize. I have no objections." He choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Stella clenched her jaw, her face contorted in a scowl. How could he publicly humiliate her in such an inappropriate and embarrassing way, in front of so many important people? It was a shameful display! He had ruined this perfect day! It was all his fault!

King Paimon nodded and looked around the crowd. "Well? Any other objections?" he asked. "Going once, going twice, going thrice? Sold! You two are now wed," he said cheerily, grabbing them and shoving them together. "Priest, please continue the ceremony. I must return to my… essential duties. Tata!" he said, turning his back and giving a lazy wave.

Paimon morphed back into a large cloud of shadows before shooting straight up, creating a second hole in the church's ceiling as some royals shielded their heads from crumbling debris. The venue was utterly silent; nobody seemed sure what to say—especially Stella, who had no words for her fury.

The priest cleared his throat and finally spoke up. "Well, uh, you may now…kiss the bride," he said, nudging Stolas with his scepter. Stella glared at her "husband," her face twisted in outrage as she clenched her fists. She looked about ready to murder Stolas. Because she was.

Stolas visibly grimaced. "Uh…do I have to, Mr. Priest?"

The priest looked over at the fuming bride, who seemed ready to rip her new husband to shreds. He grimaced as well. "I mean, it's more of a formality really. You don't have to, I suppose," he said, scratching the back of his neck before snapping his fingers. "Hey, why don't we all grab some drinks? The condiment table is now open!"

As everyone stood and awkwardly shuffled towards the champagne, Stolas and Stella were left standing at the altar alone. Stolas awkwardly glanced over to Stella, bashfully rubbing his forearm. "Umm…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you were bad; I just-" he started, but Stella huffed indignantly.

"Save it, 'prince.' I know exactly what you meant," she growled, practically quaking with rage. Just as she was about to go off on him, she felt a firm, strong grip on her shoulder. Stolas looked up behind her as a shadow cast over the two of them.

"Stella, we're leaving. We have much to talk about before your new life begins," her father said.

As Father dragged Stella away, walking her past the condiments table, several royals watched her disdainfully. Some of their faces expressed pity, and some were twisted in disgust. Looking back, she noticed Stolas down the aisle, still looking at her, his expression apologetic. She glared at him with the intensity she had held back throughout the ceremony before the church doors slammed shut behind her.