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You hated this.
Your beautiful wedding outfit is as intricate as it can be, the laces and ceremonial traditional garbs woven by all the best tailors available in the kingdom. Your wedding veil itself is gliterry and shines so prettily, sewn with diamond dust sprinkled on it.
Your wedding ring.
There's only one in this whole world. The prettiest shade of powder blue. Like the breath of the first winter snow. Like the iciest of glaciers, yet calmer, gentler, and lovely.
Like his eyelights.
You sigh. Unshed tears threatening to flow yet again from the corner of your eyes. You won't cry though. You have cried until you couldn't anymore these past few months, trying to convince your father to please reconsider this marriage.
Have you not done enough?
You did anything you can as the heir of the throne for this kingdom. For the people. Everything. You have fixed the food shortage issue and make innovations from farming methods to food preservation techniques. You have solved the lack of rain, the raising slums and poverty, the diplomatic and political issues both internally and with other countries. And the relationship between human and monsters could not be better than how it is currently.
You have solidify your claim to the throne, and gain the supports of your people just selflessly for years. Without rest. Without any ounce of fun. And in the end, you still ends up being your father's chest piece. A mere bargaining chip to increase the royal's already unstoppable force, to make it even more unstoppable per say.
You had enough.
You have never been selfish from the point you have your fourth birthday.
You have lived for the people, for the kingdom, for the world for far longer than your father, who just gained the throne after the death of the previous king a mere decade ago.
For the first time in your whole life ever since you were four, you want to be selfish. You want to live for yourself at least for just this time.
Your eyes shone with determination.
You grab your trusted shotgun. You never used that thing. It was a gift from the western emissaries for your help with cleaning their trades routes from pirates. They said it could kill the wolves’ pack leader with just one shot.
You never have the heart to use such a deadly weapon. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
You have no time to change, but at least you manage to drop your wedding veil.
…
On a second thought, that might look good on him so you took it with you, tying the veil to your waist before you went marching down the halls and up the attic, to the chapel’s roof, with a shotgun in hand.
Escaping from any other direction other than the roof is suicidal, since your father, knowing your reluctance to proceed with the marriage, arrange for at least three platoons worth of army to keep you from running away.
Well screw them.
You stood proudly on the roof, keeping steady even through the strong wind that would have make any normal people fall to their deaths.
But you're not normal.
You're a very angry heir to the throne.
You shot a warning shot to the sky.
The recoil almost makes you stagger, but it's as loud as expected, and it gains you the attention of the whole wedding attendees. The nobles, the people, the spouse that didn't want this marriage like you hated this marriage, your father who for once genuinely looked like he's regretting his decision, and him.
The one you love the most.
He looks dejected. But he quickly looks very worried and is one blink away from making a shortcut the moment he saw you, in your wedding glory with a shotgun on a very, very high roof of the chapel.
You use a sound amplifying magic.
Your voice is already charismatic, and you're able to be loud. You have to when you're an heir to the kingdom, when you're the voice of the people.
But you won't take any chances. You want the whole kingdom to hear you.
“I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY THAT MAN!!!!!!”
You shouted until your face went as red as your celebratory wine,
“I WANT HIM!!!!”
And pointed the gun at Sans.