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A private venue, where the number of guests could be counted on only two hands, is the only place that sinners could hold a wedding that would not be burned to ashes under the scrutiny of the public eye. With the assistance of the Claude family’s generous inheritance, at the behest of a timid yet kind heir who is tied to the bride by a prospective in-law, the preparations for this secret wedding is going to be done with utmost care and sincerity.
Perhaps that’s how the men of her family find themselves in this situation, with zero knowledge of how weddings are usually planned out, but trying their best to ensure that Ceres is dressed comfortably in wedding silks of crimson as vibrant as Ankou’s eyes. He hadn’t questioned the decision to veer away from traditional colors of white, and neither had Adolphe — but she can tell that the two of them are curious, at least.
Ceres smiles weakly, tugging lightly at the wide sleeves falling over her wrists. “It’s… a homage, I guess. To all the blood that’s been spilled by our hands.”
Ankou narrows his eyes, though he supposes he cannot voice out his disagreement. She’s aware of the true nature of her genes now, thanks to Adolphe’s heroic donation to Scien Brofiise in order to help the timid Claude heir, throwing all of Ankou’s hard work down the drain. Disgruntled is the Watchman of Death, but it seems that love will make anyone sick in the head.
Of course, that incorrigible man will not heed his dear princess’ words of self-deprecation so easily. “Both you and Teacher didn’t kill people because you wanted to,” Adolphe states bluntly, lightly knocking Ceres on the head. “Besides, the fact that the two of you are finally moving forward with the wedding means you’ve decided to atone.”
“Mhn.” Ceres nods, a determined look to her face. “Nadia is recovering well… for her sake, we’ll live even with our sins. But, um.” She laughs lightly as Ankou helps her to adjust the sash around her waist. “I appreciate the two of you helping me with this. It’s still a little weird, knowing what I know of your past… but I wouldn’t trade my two brothers for anyone else in the world.”
Brothers. Adolphe and Ankou exchange a subtle glance, though the meaning of the word appears to have depreciated over the years. The two of them are aware that they’ve placed a blemish on that perception before, with their own separate, dedicated feelings for Ceres serving as an impenetrable wall between their heart and the others that they’ve surrounded themselves with. Against all odds, Adolphe had managed to overcome his deficiency, as Ankou would put it, and allowed a brave, quivering mouse with silvery-white hair and turquoise eyes into his heart.
As for Ankou… well, that’s neither here nor there. He’s not someone who is worthy of love or friendship, with a plethora of his own sins gathered in his cold hands. If Ceres and Lucas will don robes of red for their wedding day as a testament to their transgressions, then Ankou’s garbs of obsidian can only be a complement to that, serving as their very personal guide away from Hades itself.
A knock on the door beckons their attention, and Yves pokes his head in, shooting a bright smile at everyone in the room. “Everything’s ready on my end!” Without waiting for an invitation, he walks right in, holding a beautiful bouquet of spider lilies that have recovered from their tainted poison. Red and white, blending the colors of tradition and hereticism alike, tied together with a blue ribbon at the stems.
“Oh, it’s beautiful, Yves!” Ceres’ eyes marvel at the floral pieces, with the guardian of the lycoris placing the bouquet gently in her hands.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he winks playfully, a genuine compliment. Before Ankou can react, Yves loops an arm around his shoulders and tugs him closer. “I can’t take all the credit, though. I may have set up the bouquet, but Ankou chose the flowers that would go into it.”
In front of Ceres, Ankou’s dedicated role does not fade away so easily. Yet he can’t help the flutter of his chest, alongside a slight tension to his body, as Yves includes him into his world so easily. Yes, this very person who is the embodiment of light has now brought a conclusion to the story passed down in the Noirge bloodline, where “Death” had vowed to grow these flowers to propose to the woman that he loves dearly.
It’s bittersweet, this uneventful conclusion. Instead of proposing to the woman he loves, “Death” will present this bouquet to the woman that he cares for deeply, marrying her off to the person she’s chosen to love through life and death. He’s not sure how he feels about the fact that Yves is helping him once more, when Ankou has done nothing but fail this person over and over again…
“It was inconsequential,” Ankou mutters, attempting to brush off Yves’ attempts at familiarity. It’s not easy, shaking off the suffocating guilt he feels towards this bright person. “The guardian of the lycoris has completed his duty to take care of the flowers, so it’d be best if—”
“Just say that you did your best to pick the flowers, and you’re happy to help,” Adolphe gripes at him, smacking the back of his head lightly.
Ankou hisses at him. “More help than you, I’m sure. And what have you done to help with wedding preparations?”
A hint of uncharacteristic smugness alights on Adolphe’s lips. “Became a living blood bank. Too bad I have to share that credit with you.”
“Now now, kids. Fighting on the bride’s lucky day is bad luck!” Yves pipes in, ruffling the top of Ankou’s head and nudging Adolphe at the same time.
Unfortunately, rather than looking bothered, Ceres is muffling her giggles from behind her hands. “It’s funny… I’m sorry.”
Yes, that’s exactly the reaction that Ankou seeks to pull from Ceres. Though at some point, his squabbles with Adolphe have moved past a performance and have bleeded into a genuine irritation. Drawbacks of hating one’s self, he supposes. That self-hatred becomes a little muffled when Yves’ fingers slink through his hair, though, and Ankou takes a brief moment to appraise the hero that has not won the princess over.
Keeping to an impeccable image, Yves’ hair is pulled back into his characteristic low ponytail, neatly combed. Rather than his usual attire, for the purposes of serving as the officiator of the wedding procession, he’s dressed in a formal black suit that has flecks of crimson and gold. Oddly enough, it seems to complement Ankou’s usual apparel rather well. What stands out, of course, is a brooch on his chest that twinkles with a jewel of sapphire. Blue has always suited Yves more, in the end.
Yves notes Ankou’s staring. A normal person wouldn’t comment on it. Yves is anything but normal.
“Like what you see?” He asks cheerfully, striking a little pose. “It matches you, doesn’t it?”
“It looks familiar,” Ankou murmurs, ignoring the way that Yves’ warmth threatens to melt down the layers of walls he’s built around his heart.
“Well, it should! Ceres made this outfit for me.”
“... Hm?”
Ceres twiddles with her fingers. “Well, um, there was extra fabric in the Drifter’s house, where we were hiding out… and drafts of the outfit he made for you.” She gestures to Ankou’s clothes, intentionally crafted to emulate an otherworldly appearance. “And since we’re having Yves be our officiator, I thought it’d be nice if I made his outfit… to match you, Ankou. You stopped me from killing myself, after all. And Yves saved me from the fire…” She tilts his head, kindly smiling at the two of them. “It’s because of the two of you that I’m alive, and I can be with Lucas like this.”
That’s… hm. Ankou presses his lips together. The sheer force of her admiration, as well as Yves’, is misguided. He’s not the hero that she seems to portray him as, Yves is. And he’s not as noble and caring as Yves believes him to be. Instead, Ankou is a selfish miscreant who intentionally toyed with the laws of time and science in order to bring back the woman he cares for. None of that is a conventional love that deserves admiration.
Ceres isn’t aware of the true nature of Ankou’s desperate yearning. But Yves is. He’s privy to every detail of Ankou’s story, ever since he had been forced to divulge that months ago. So, why…
… Why is he looking at him like he’s the hero, instead?
Ankou retreats, as he does. Unfortunately, Adolphe is the only other person in the room, so he steps behind the man who shares his height, though perhaps not his weight — Ankou has become frailer over the course of centuries. Adolphe blinks in bewilderment, though he supposes he can’t blame Ankou for trying to hide. Yves is sparkling with the light of a man who cares deeply for his friends, and Ceres is glowing with the hue of a woman who’s freed from the shackles of death — very formidable opponents, once they’ve sought their own happiness.
Adolphe adjusts the lapels of his own suit, sighing quietly. Because the color assignment for this wedding is untraditional from the start, he’s dressed in a suit to match his partner’s, a dark gray theme with teal and white accents. Red suits him much better, but he’s not going to draw attention away from the main couple.
“Well, should we start the main event, then?” Adolphe offers his arm to Ceres. Obviously, as an orphan, Ceres does not have a father to walk her down the aisle. Adolphe is the natural substitution to fill that role.
“Ah, right!” Yves nods, grabbing Ankou’s arms and waving at the two of them. “We’ll head out first. Good luck, Ceres!”
“Don’t forget that you’re leading the procession, Yves.” Adolphe shakes his head in amusement.
“Yup! I’ll take my role seriously, you worrywart.”
“I’m not a—”
Aaand there Yves goes, willfully ignoring Adolphe's quip, and dragging a balking Ankou right out of the small room and into the tiny venue where their other friends are waiting. Adolphe pinches the bridge of his nose, and Ceres laughs as she tucks her hand quietly in the crook of his elbow.
“Thank you for doing this,” Ceres says. “I know you don’t like being the center of attention…”
“Well, it’s already less people than there would be at a Corps gathering, so it’s fine.” He dismisses her apologetic statement rather easily. “Hope you’re ready for Mother to be crying her eyes out, though. She was already struggling when she walked into the garden.”
Ceres manages a helpless smile. “She’s going to try and pretend everything is fine though, isn’t she?”
“Well, you learned that particular trait from someone. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“That makes three apples, then.” Ceres blinks up at him. “I never knew what you were going through, having to hide your identity from the entire country… and Ankou, too. The lengths that he went through in order to help me…”
“If your next words are going to be another apology, your cheek is getting pinched. And I don’t want to ruin your makeup.”
Ceres laughs. “You’re meaner to me now.”
“... Am I?” The direct insult makes him falter.
“Ah, not like that. Um… well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I prefer you like this. When you’re more playful.” She tilts her head, a slight twinkle to her eye. “Mathis is a good influence on you, isn’t he?”
Instead of denying it, Adolphe gently pats the top of her head. “He is. I'm glad he's in my life. But you’ve also changed, too, thanks to Teacher. The Ceres I knew before would have never defied the law and broken him out of prison.”
“... Well.” She coughs, slightly flustered at the direct manner in which Adolphe has identified her brand of love. “It was either that, or I kill myself with him. I don’t think anyone would have been happy with the latter…”
Adolphe shudders. “No kidding. I wouldn’t be okay, and Ankou would’ve been sent down another spiral.” A pause. “Not that it’d be your fault. You’re not responsible for whatever that insane guy does.”
Clumsy as usual. Even if Adolphe has become more open, he’s still awkward at times, but Ceres finds it endearing.
“We should get going,” Ceres says, deciding to save Adolphe the trouble of further insulting or defending Ankou. Those two are always a mixed bag of emotions.
Grateful for the escape, Adolphe places his hand on the doorknob and turns it. “Congratulations again, Ceres. I’m really happy for you.”
***
Lucas has never been one to crumble under pressure, really. Between having to deceive a group of individuals who would one day grow to become his good friends to being a serial killer… well, he’s pretty good under pressure. The only thing that could break that impenetrable fortress of his composure is his little sister, Nadia, and even that has its drawbacks at times.
That being said, for being an odd person himself, it is still… a bit strange, or rather — he’s not accustomed to it — gazing out at the small gathering to identify the very weird group of individuals that seem to be alright with the fact that he (albeit, brainwashed) is the notorious serial killer called Bourreau.
There’s Mathis, whose downloaded identities had created a false, yet justified revenge narrative against Bourreau. Once Scien had fixed the leaking memories and stabilized the homunculus, he had… well, acted as usual around Lucas. Or perhaps with an added air of familiarity, given that they’d technically be woven into the same familial line, if that little ring on his finger adorned with one half of Adolphe’s blue gemstone is anything to allude to that.
Yves, of course, is notorious for his accepting and friendly nature. As Lucas’ gaze sweeps to his officiator, who notices that passing gaze and gives him a firm nod in turn before becoming distracted with seeking out the other oddity in the crowd. Lucas hasn’t really interacted with Ankou on a personal note, but he’s very grateful to the mysterious man after hearing about his backstory and the lengths he had gone through in order to ensure that Ceres would have a normal life. That was what Lucas had always wanted for her, too — he just didn’t think he would be on the other end of it, being chosen as her partner to become a part of that mundane, normal life.
Salome, who he thinks should be the biggest opposition, is sitting as one of the spectators, dabbing at her eyes to prevent another stream of tears as Mathis frantically tries to comfort her. She had absolutely nothing to say about their union, other than the fact that she would cut his heart out and feed it to the sharks herself if he dared to break Ceres’ heart.
Lucas hadn’t bothered to send an invitation to Scien. The scientist would have made a sarcastic remark about it and not shown up anyway. Though he’s grateful to Scien for his interventions and does, in fact, owe him for his current sanity, he still dislikes that man. Lucas would have preferred Hugo’s presence over Scien’s, but Lucas thinks Hugo’s reasons are actually pretty reasonable — he had been worried that his presence at the wedding of Death and Bourreau would have endangered his family, so he had declined their invitation but sent them his best wishes.
Lucas meets Nadia’s gaze, who smiles at him sweetly and adds a little wave of her own. She’s sitting in a wheelchair, invented by the person who had wheeled her into the venue. Lucas is grateful that Dahut had befriended Nadia and had looked after her when Lucas had been… incapacitated, but there’s a part of Lucas that feels irked when he looks at him. Maybe that’s just the overprotective brotherly instinct of his. And maybe Lucas can spot a tiny hint of awkwardness in Dahut’s behavior, so he trusts him even less.
And lastly, Adolphe — ah. Whatever playful, sassy remarks Lucas had reserved for Adolphe seems to dissipate completely when his gaze falls onto the woman that he’s escorting.
Ceres. Lucas’ heart flutters. Even if the two of them have seen each other at their absolute worst, it’s juvenile how much his pulse can accelerate just by seeing his precious person dressed in ornate robes of crimson silk. She looks nervous, even with a small gathering of under ten people, but that’s to be expected. To be bound with vows of eternity is no easy feat, especially when the person she’s about to devote death and life to is someone whose sins run deeper than any chasm.
Lucas’ appearance reflects Ceres’, of course. A velvety satin suit in hues of vermillion, his hair is tied back in a low ponytail with a braided loop — just another way that Nadia wanted to match with him. His body posture is a bit stiff, though, and Yves gently claps him on the back as the bride walks down the aisle, accompanied by Adolphe.
“You deserve happiness, too.” Yves’ voice is a low whisper. “Don’t pull away from her, okay?”
That’s easier said than done, truly. Lucas knows that he should have never crossed the line with her back then. He should’ve stayed in his role as the patient, understanding role model that she looked up to. Yet due to his inhibitions and selfishness, he has dragged this lovely and beautiful woman down into the depths of Hades, forcing her to embody the sins that he should have shouldered alone.
A lot of things he should have done. But as she arrives, placed in front of him like a fallen angel, Lucas’ reservations have long since disappeared in the face of her own conviction.
He remembers the way she had dragged him out of the trenches, with pale and trembling hands. Even as her face became streaked with bloodstains and tears, she had never faltered, contrary to her timid and self-deprecating nature. Her guilt, suffocating in solitude yet lightening as their lips meshed into one, forces her fellow sinner to seek out that path of redemption by her side. Breathy gasps exchanged in the stillness of night, sweat and blood mixing together in a desperate attempt to eliminate any space between them…
Even if the moniker of death will remain in their shadow, henceforth, what matters most is that neither of them will have to endure it alone.
As Yves weaves through the vows that the two of them have planned together, in a solemn yet cheerful manner that only Yves could portray, Lucas can’t help himself — tears stream down his face, and their officiator pauses to allow this man a moment to grieve.
Ah, no, perhaps it’s not grief. Ceres calmly lifts her hands, pressing them to Lucas’ cheeks and allowing his tears to seep into the red fabric of her wedding garments.
Even without words, she understands. She knows that against all odds, they’ve managed to find a place amidst the land of the living, even when the two of them should have died and rotted in hell for the rest of their lives.
“I love you,” Lucas murmurs, turning his head to press his lips against the warmth of her palm.
“I know,” she replies seamlessly, her own tears pooling in her eyes. “I love you, too.”
She deserves poetry, but Lucas is not one who sings of his love in allegories and jewelry. Unlike the nature of his elegant appearance, his love is cluttered with confusion and fear, strewn about with carnal desire and unfettered passion.
Yet Ceres does not protest. Does not curl her lip in disgust, does not regard him with disdain. Instead, she jumps into the pool of muddy devotion alongside him, and they drown in the abyss of their sadness together.
“You may now kiss the bride,” Yves says thoughtfully, understanding that the love shared between these two is not one that he will ever judge in this lifetime.
Rather than dipping Ceres into an extravagant bow, Lucas leans down, his breath overlapping with hers. But he hesitates, for no good reason other than wondering if this is really the happiness he deserves — then Ceres breaches the line he’s inadvertently drawn between the two of them, a desperate mesh of tongue and lips that becomes muted to their onlookers.
Adolphe coughs violently, Dahut covers Nadia’s eyes (who then tries to peek through the cracks in his fingers anyway), Mathis hastily looks away with his face blaring red, and Ankou merely snorts in amusement at the way everyone else reacts. A passionate display of affection, certainly — would anyone have expected Ceres to initiate, though?
Salome looks quite proud of her daughter, for that matter.
Yves clears his throat, a tiny flush of pink on his own cheeks as he steps down from the podium.
Now, the festivities can start.
But not after the bride has thrown her bouquet, of course.
The crowd is small, and it’s clear that everyone (an unspoken agreement) wants to ensure that Nadia catches the bouquet.
However, as Ceres tosses the lycorises, a strong gust of wind infiltrates the venue, causing the bouquet to swerve off-course and smack Ankou right in the face.
The Watchman of Death squawks in surprise, hands fleeting upwards to catch the bouquet to prevent it from falling onto the ground. He stares at it in bewilderment, and Adolphe has the audacity to walk up to him and elbow him in the side with a smug ass grin.
“Well, looks like you’re gonna compete with me to see who gets married first, huh?”
Ankou stares at him, half a beat away from smacking that grin off his face. “This was not what was supposed to happen.”
“Really, now?” Adolphe folds his arms behind his neck. “You sure it wasn’t fate trying to tell you to get over your weird, repressed feelings for the people you care about?”
“Stupid man. They’re not repressed.” Ankou thinks he’s been perfectly clear about how dedicated he is to Ceres, his dear princess. “I’m perfectly open with my—”
“Ankou!” Yves bounds up to him, lips curled into an excited smile. It’s obvious to anyone that Yves is about to say something outrageous regarding the bouquet, so Ankou does what he does best when it comes to evading the people he cares about. Throwing down his smoke bombs, it gives him enough cover to retreat, and is enough of an annoyance to Adolphe to hear the brunet cursing and coughing through the smoke to clear it away.
Ducking away, he seeks out the young girl in a wheelchair, who blinks in confusion as she nibbles on a few pastries at the dessert table. Scrambling, Ankou delivers the bouquet to Nadia. She sighs, accepting the gift with a tiny pout.
“Well, it’s not the same since I didn’t catch it, but you look like you’re going to evaporate, so I suppose I’ll save you this time around,” she hums.
She doesn’t even know him! Where did she get the bravery to tease the fearless Watchman of Death? Ankou, though, has practiced his role for hundreds of years. With a seamless bow, he smiles at her. “A princess should be bestowed the loveliest of flowers, certainly.”
Nadia tilts her head. “Even if they’re flowers of death?”
Lucas, making his own appearance by his sister’s side, idly taps his cheek. “My, what a dreadful wish you’re giving to my sister, Ankou.”
Ankou falters. “I… didn’t intend for that to happen.” Should he take the bouquet back, then…?
As he gazes upon the potent duo of siblings, he realizes too late that they’re just messing with him. Plastering a smile on his lips, he bows to them and retreats, that pout hidden deep in his soul to save face.
“Perhaps I should have been kinder to him,” Lucas comments, taking a seat next to Nadia. “It’s thanks to his help that I’ve been able to live long enough for Scien to create a cure for our lifespans…” Not that Lucas enjoys ingesting Ankou’s blood. But it had been a necessary evil at the time.
“He seems like a tough person,” Nadia reassures, leaning over and poking Lucas’ cheeks. “That aside, Big Brother, I’m glad you and Sister didn’t delay any longer.”
“Well, I’d like to thank your strength for finding the will to live, even through your suffering, to be a part of our ceremony.” Lucas pats the top of her head gently. “Are you still feeling alright? There are no side effects, or any hints of relapsing?”
“Big Brother.” Nadia rolls her eyes, a stern undertone to her voice. “This is a day of celebration. Please don’t fret too much over me.”
“I’m afraid that it’s in my nature to fret over your health. A cure to your genetic condition won’t erase my concerns, and even with your recovery, I fear that you may still require support in the long term.” Maintenance, not a miracle, Scien had said. Lucas understands that the god of Arpechele has worked enough miracles, but he still can’t help but feel disgruntled that Nadia’s condition isn’t a hundred percent cured. No longer life-threatening, but…
Nadia sighs, though she relents and smiles kindly at her older brother. In the end, this person is her most important role model. There’s no way that she can even pretend to be mad at him. “Alright, I’ll let you off the hook for that. I’m really excited to celebrate this day for the years to come, though.” She claps her hands together in glee. “We don’t really have… happy dates to celebrate. Anniversaries tend to be dreadful for us.”
Lucas grimaces just slightly. “You’re not wrong. Every birthday became all the more suffocating to celebrate, as we inched closer to the end of a lifespan or the acceleration of your disease…”
“So! A new date that will be a reminder of hope.” Gently, Nadia grabs Lucas’ hand and traces her fingers over his ring. An engagement ring embedded with an emerald, twinkling in the bright sunlight as a testament to the union between her brother and his beloved. Ironically, despite Lucas’ tendency to be more assertive in the relationship, it was Ceres who had proposed to him… hence, the reason why he’s the one wearing the ring. It makes him all fluttery just reminiscing about it.
Pressed beneath it lies their wedding ring, made of rose gold to reflect the similar hues of their hair. Thoughtfully funded by the rich heir of the Claude family, of course.
“Hope,” he echoes, closing his eyes briefly. “Perhaps that is the salvation that we can be offered.”
A flicker of melancholy passes between the two siblings. Nadia gazes upon the twinkling gemstone, and she sighs quietly.
“If I apologize, you and Sister will scold me, won’t you?” She shakes her head, shifting her gaze to stare at him with determination.
Lucas returns her gaze, his own expression more subdued. “Of course we will. The only ones who should take responsibility for the actions we took… only we can do that. Nadia, none of this is your fault.”
“Mhn.” Though she nods in affirmation, she’s not sure how convincing she sounds. She’s always been someone who views complicated issues in a mature light compared to other children her age. She can understand the logistics of why a person is responsible for their own actions… however, even with a slightly more mature brain, she is still very much a child. That guilt that gnaws at her persists — if she weren’t dragged down by her illness, Lucas would never have turned to Capucine for help, and all of this… no, I need to stop thinking about hypotheticals. It doesn’t take away the repentance that Big Brother wants to go through for his sins. She sighs before clapping her hands against her cheeks gently. “Well, that’s enough of being a downer. Let’s go celebrate with everyone else, Big Brother!”
***
Ceres’ hands admire the ring that’s nestled snugly on Mathis’ finger, the blue gemstone a direct contrast to the emerald that she had embedded in Lucas’ own engagement ring. In the end, they had been unable to identify the exact type of stone that Adolphe’s earrings had been made of. What bothers her slightly is the fact that both Adolphe and Mathis had rejected her offer to return her brooch to Adolphe. Part of her thought that she ought to give Adolphe back his keepsake, since he had used his earrings to create matching rings for him and his partner.
These two really have done a lot for her, but she isn’t sure if she could ever match up to their care and concern for her, either.
“Miss Ceres, I’m, um, going to get embarrassed,” Mathis says, scratching his cheek the longer that Ceres admires his ring.
“Oh, sorry…” She smiles apologetically, finally relinquishing his hand. “I’m just happy that I’m not the only one who gets to… well, live a normal life. Both you and Adolphe…” She can’t help herself, and reaches out to pat the top of Mathis’ head gently. “I’m excited for your wedding.”
“Y-Your own wedding isn’t over yet,” Mathis squeaks out, a tiny pout to his lips at being treated like a child yet again. Still, it’s a little embarrassing to have his prospective wedding be stated by Ceres so bluntly. “But, uh. Yes, I’m happy too. Adolphe’s done a lot for me…” That’s the understatement of the century, Mathis thinks to himself. That gruff, no-nonsense yet kind person doesn’t know the meaning of limitations, going above and beyond to ensure that the normal life Ceres is speaking about was secured for the young heir. Mathis is just relieved that he had been able to help in his own way. “I’m going to do my best to make him happy… but, uh, I wouldn’t stop you from making him happy, too. Since family is… important.”
There’s a slight hesitance to the way Mathis speaks about that. Ceres can guess it has to do with the complicated relationship he has with the imprisoned Camille, though she doesn’t know the details beyond what Mathis has been willing to divulge.
“Well, we’ll be in-laws pretty soon, won’t we?” Ceres tilts his head. “So… we’ll be family, too. Thus… if there’s anything I can do to make you happy, too, please don’t hesitate to rely on me.”
Mathis smiles shyly at her. Despite everything that this country has thrown at her, she still manages to be so kind. That’s a trait that she shares with Adolphe, he supposes. It’s a bit baffling how everyone present here at her wedding managed to be connected, in some way, to her. There was his past little crush on her when they had first started working together, and then there was Adolphe’s complex feelings for her, juggling the sting of unspoken rejection. Mathis has no doubt in his heart that Ankou’s feelings may fall similarly in the complicated realm that Adolphe’s exists, and Yves… well, Yves is hard to read sometimes. Or at least, he's very unpredictable. Mathis won’t try to guess whether that guy had a crush on Ceres, too.
Clearing his throat, Mathis realizes he’s thinking way too hard about all of this again. It doesn’t matter what the past had been made of, since Ceres has a dedicated partner, and so does he. At the least, Mathis has complete trust and faith that Adolphe does genuinely love him too, even if he isn’t his first love. And Ceres is such a lovely person to begin with, so Mathis is truly excited to be able to share this familial bond with her.
“I will,” he promises. “And I want to echo that sentiment. If you ever need someone else to rely on, the doors to my mansion are always open.” He fiddles with the edge of his sleeve. “Adolphe… he’s amazing, but he’s not really the advice type. And Lucas… well, on the off chance he’s the reason why you need advice, it seems pretty silly to go to him. S-So…!” Mathis nods in determination. “I’ll lend a listening ear to you… um, S-Sister.” Flushing slightly at his bold declaration, Mathis ducks his head. “... Don’t tell Adolphe I said that, actually. I’m still trying to find a way to surprise him, even if he was the one who proposed…”
Oh, Mathis is adorable…! Ceres giggles, unable to help herself as she pats his head again. “If you want to scheme to surprise him, count me in. I’d like to help you out with your wedding as much as you’ve helped me out with mine.”
“Th-Thank you! I’ll make sure to do that!” Mathis nods enthusiastically. Surely, as someone who grew up with Adolphe, Ceres will know the best ways that Mathis can finally get the upper hand! He could try to ask Ankou, too, since… well, obvious reasons, but he doesn’t really want to let Ankou know about his plans, in case… uh, the Watchman of Death decides to ruin his surprise in order to make fun of Adolphe. It’s a very real possibility. At the same time, Ankou is pretty good at keeping secrets, if his true identity is anything to support that.
Ah, well, Mathis can decide that later.
“By the way,” Mathis pipes up, admiring the crimson red of Ceres’ wedding outfit once more. “Um, in other countries, red is actually the main color for weddings.”
“Mh?” Ceres tilts her head. “Is that so?”
Mathis nods enthusiastically. “Yes! I read it in a book about other countries. Um, one in particular, red is popular for representing prosperity, life, and love. E-Even if we’re not Drifters, I think it’s a lovely color to celebrate with. So, Sister Ceres…” Mathis gingerly grabs Ceres’ hands, squeezing them gently. “Please have a prosperous life, adorned by these beautiful shades of red.”
***
In the midst of the festivities, Lucas finds himself situated next to Ankou, oddly enough. The rest of the group is wrestling with Yves, who had become intoxicated after one sip of wine, of course (by the rest of the group, he really means Adolphe, who is trying to corral the energetic puppy while everyone watches with joyous laughter).
Lucas notes the wistful manner in which Ankou is gazing at Ceres and Yves. As he recalls this man’s strange behavior earlier, too, throwing a smoke bomb to evade Yves, it’s easy to come to a few conclusions.
“Your feelings are complicated,” Lucas comments. “Your love for Ceres… it was more than familial, wasn’t it?”
Ankou lifts his sleeves to his mouth, obscuring the thin smile on his face. “You speak of an absurd hypothetical, repentful knight.”
Well, he supposes that Ceres had somewhat warned Lucas that Ankou tends to speak strangely, even when his past has been exposed.
Lucas tilts his head, twirling the edge of his ponytail around his finger. “Really? Then, hypothetically, have you ever told Ceres about this love of yours?”
Ankou scoffs. “You do realize your position, yes? I do not threaten the state of your relationship.”
“Ah, I’m not saying you are.” Lucas raises his hands in surrender, though his mouth is curled into its own mischievous smile. “I just wonder if you’d be happier if you had some closure. Obviously, the love you have for Ceres will remain one-sided if it’s romantic… but I can also tell you care a lot for Yves, nearly similarly to how you care for Ceres.”
At that, Ankou chokes on his own spit.
“Adolphe was telling me about how you saw Yves as this infallible hero. And you call Ceres your dear princess…” Lucas tilts his head. “A hero and a princess. One might say it’s fate, isn’t it?”
Ankou… is going to choke out Adolphe later. Or drown him in wine until that heavyweight finally gets drunk. Still, Ankou narrows his eyes, and he appraises Lucas carefully. “This is your wedding day. Why are you speaking like this?”
“Not for any particular reason,” Lucas responds, shrugging lightly. “I tend to be… meddlesome when it comes to particular scenarios. Especially one where you can look at the past and wonder where all our paths diverged.” He tilts his head. “For example… Mathis and I didn’t seem to exist in your timeline. Camille Claude hadn’t received the research he needed to create him, and my father appears to not have taken over the Corps or had any children.”
“Yes…” Ankou still doesn’t understand why Lucas chose this array of topics to chat with him about, but whatever.
“I suppose… because you’ve sacrificed so much for the person I love, I wanted to see if I could help you in any way.” Lucas smiles wryly. “What we have in common… is that we love the same person. Unfortunately, I won’t give her up.”
“I would cast a curse upon you if so.”
“Haha, don’t worry about that.” Lucas props his chin on his hand. “But… well, who’s to say that you must only stop at one love? Don’t get rid of the love you have for Ceres, but can’t that stay alongside the love that you can nurture for someone else?”
“... I didn’t take you for the idealistic type, based on how others have described you.”
“Hm, well, Nadia has always been a hopeless romantic. I suppose some of that has rubbed off on me.”
Ankou sighs. “Well, you have assumed on your own that I harbor this type of love. I am a Watchman of Death, and my duty is—”
“I’m sure a certain someone will find your manner of deflecting endearing. As it stands now, I’m not the person you should try to endear yourself to, so it's a little vexing for you to respond to me like that,” Lucas interrupts, still smiling politely at Ankou.
… Formidable. If Ankou’s identity had not been revealed so easily, he’s certain that he would be able to lead Lucas in a whirlwind of confusion with the poetry and fairytale that he mastered with Tamaki all those centuries ago. As it stands now, because they all understand that he has been Adolphe in the past, he just simply looks like a fool if he attempts further acting such as this.
“Inconvenient,” Ankou murmurs, rising to his feet. “Please do not worry about me. Worry about your bride and the future that the two of you must share, walking a path of salvation that’s covered in repentance.”
It seems that Lucas cannot be the one to tear down those carefully crafted walls. Well, he supposes he wasn’t expecting to have that kind of impact on Ankou, but he is disappointed that he couldn’t be of more help to someone who is undoubtedly important to Ceres. Seems like the best he can do is continue to tease Adolphe and Ankou in his usual manner… though he senses Ankou is going to be tougher to crack.
“Ankouuuuuu!”
Fortunately, Lucas is not the only one who likes to bother Ankou. He watches in bemusement as Ankou tries — and fails — to dodge Yves’ full-speed tackle. An ungraceful yelp slips past, and Ankou crumples to the floor in a pile of limbs and hair as Yves, clearly drunk out of his mind, nuzzles his face against Ankou’s chest.
“Don’t throw a smoke bomb at me again,” Yves mumbles out, closing his eyes happily. “That was mean of you… s’okay, forgive you though…”
Having lost much of his strength over the years, Ankou resigns to his fate, and takes to comforting the inebriated puppy. Lucas laughs and waves at him, moving to greet and converse with his other guests.
After some time, Ceres finds her way back to his side, intertwining their hands together as the two of them gaze out at the lively atmosphere of their humble wedding gathering.
There may have been a world where she would have carried out her original plan, vowing to stop Lucas’ mindless rampage and ending her life at his side after she took his life. But in a twist of unexpected fate and confidence slowly nurtured in the young woman who normally kept her head down, the drive to persist and face their obstacles has led them to a new type of salvation. One that may be scorned by the people of Arpechele, but soon, even their opposition would falter. There’s not many that can oppose the words of the Gift of God, after all.
Happiness is a relative feeling, Ceres thinks. Whether or not the two of them deserve to be happy is still something that she hasn’t completely reconciled yet. There’s even a small part of her that yearns for the peace that death could grant her… but that’s no longer her priority. The part of her that had been stopped by Ankou back then traversed that edge of no return because she believed her life to be a detriment to others.
As her gaze flickers out across the venue, from her partner at her side to the small handful of others who wish to see the two of them happy… now, she knows that belief couldn’t be farther from the truth. There’s people who would challenge the world for the sake of allowing her to live a normal life, and people who would bring a god down from his heavenly throne in order to bestow miracles upon these earthly mortals.
“Lucas,” she murmurs. Her beloved turns to gaze down at her inquisitively. “Let’s do our best… to repent and be happy… here on Earth, and not in Hades.”
“... Yes.” His response is careful, measured; yet there’s no shortage of determination and love in his eyes as he lifts their intertwined hands and presses his lips to her knuckles. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”