Chapter 38: Let's Get Married - 1
The Ceremony of Light was one of the Church of the Sun’s four major holy seasons, a period for giving thanks to the goddess Helia for the year that had passed while also offering prayers for spring to come the following year.
Because it was observed after the harvest, more believers visited the church during this season than during any of the other four major holy seasons.
Since a wedding was being held during the Ceremony of Light—an extraordinary occurrence—the believers’ curiosity over the identities of the bride and groom had not faded throughout the season.
"How strange. A wedding at this time of year?"
"Surely they aren’t nobles."
"Of course they aren’t. Why would nobles hold a wedding in a rural church like this?"
"Could Lady Cecile be getting married? This is Baron Edial’s territory, after all."
"Even if it were Lady Cecile, I doubt the church would permit a wedding during the Ceremony of Light."
The visiting believers attended the wedding, their anticipation swelling.
In contrast, the people of Entiel Village were deeply worried.
"I heard Ian is holding a wedding with Isabelle."
"With that half-corpse? I don’t know whether this wedding will be all right."
"What if Isabelle’s appearance causes a riot?"
"Shouldn’t we tell them to cancel it while there’s still time?"
Now that the Ceremony of Light had begun, the visiting believers alone outnumbered the people of Entiel Village by at least three or four times.
Even if they carried no weapons, maintaining order with only a small village watch would be nearly impossible.
If the wedding went wrong and a riot broke out, it would be a catastrophe.
"Please remain quiet, everyone."
"Oh! Looks like it’s starting."
As the nuns began entering the wedding hall, everyone waited for the ceremony with equal parts anticipation and anxiety.
"Before we begin the wedding, I would like to explain to our guests why this ceremony is being held during the Ceremony of Light."
Vanessa, who was officiating, continued her explanation as she looked over the believers.
"The love between the groom, Ian, and the bride, Isabelle, was acknowledged by Seraphim, and they received the [Mark of Love]. Thus, in order to bless their love, our church has exceptionally permitted their wedding to be held during the Ceremony of Light."
Most people did not know about the [Mark of Love].
But everyone was astonished to hear that they had received Seraphim’s recognition.
Though they had witnessed divine miracles through the nuns, the tale of meeting a being straight out of myth firsthand sounded far-fetched.
- Is that really such a big deal?
- Of course it is. They were acknowledged by an angel!
- Then has a Hero been born?
- Idiot! A Hero has to be chosen directly by the goddess. Those two were recognized by an angel.
- Ah, is that how it works?
- Honestly, moron. Don’t go around calling yourself a believer of the Church of the Sun.
Yet with the head nun personally announcing it, it did not seem like a lie, and most of the crowd responded with admiration.
"Then we shall begin the wedding. Groom, please enter."
At Vanessa’s words, Ian, the groom, made his way through the guests.
Naturally, all the guests’ attention focused on Ian.
- He doesn’t have the bearing of a commoner.
- It really is a noble wedding. I told you so.
- Isn’t that the man from last night?
- That devout fellow? So it really is people with deep faith who earn an angel’s recognition.
He had the dignified bearing of a nobleman and a confident stride despite all the eyes upon him.
He was not exceptionally handsome, but his warm, well-kept looks were more than enough to captivate the guests.
"Next, the bride, Miss Isabelle, will enter."
The guests’ expectations for the bride swelled even further.
Then, the moment the bride appeared, every guest was struck speechless.
"Gasp?!"
Blue hair that called the sea to mind, and violet eyes reminiscent of bellflowers.
Smooth, flawless skin and a splendid feminine body that seemed painstakingly sculpted by an artist.
Beauty beyond the power of words to describe.
It was sacrilegious to think so, but they even wondered whether the goddess Helia herself had returned to the world.
The bride possessed that degree of beauty.
"That’s Isabelle?"
The people of Entiel Village, who knew of Isabelle’s condition, could not hide their shock at how she had changed.
After all, Isabelle, who had been like a half-corpse, had transformed into a beauty.
- Thank goodness. It looks like she’s fully recovered.
- No way. She could become that beautiful?
- Fuck, if I’d known this would happen, I would’ve married Isabelle!
Some rejoiced, some were jealous, and some were filled with lust.
Twitch.
- Wh-what? Did he just glare at me?
Ian missed none of the Entiel villagers who cast base looks at Isabelle, marking every last one of them.
The chill in his gaze sent shivers down their spines.
There are plenty more bastards to crush besides John’s gang.
Ian’s expression was far from pleasant, but it changed in an instant.
Isabelle had come to his side.
"Honey, am I... all right? I don’t look strange, do I?"
"You don’t look strange at all, so don’t worry."
Ian took Isabelle’s hand and walked forward.
His firm resolve to protect her no matter what trials came their way was clear to see.
. . .
Tremble.
He felt Isabelle’s hand shaking.
"Are you nervous?"
"Yes."
Isabelle looked around her as she spoke.
"Everyone is staring at me so intensely. It scares me."
Isabelle was sensitive to other people’s gazes.
She had spent her entire life watching other people’s reactions.
And until now, the looks Isabelle had received had been either pity or disgust.
To Isabelle, the admiring gazes of the guests like those she was receiving now must have felt unfamiliar.
Especially the looks filled with men’s lust.
"They’re all staring because you’re beautiful, Isabelle."
Ian had only said it to reassure her, but Isabelle looked as though his words had not quite sunk in.
"I’m beautiful?"
"Yes. You’re more beautiful than any other woman."
Isabelle considered his answer for a moment, then looked up at him and spoke.
"Then from now on, I’ll cover my face so other men can’t see it."
"What?"
"Everything I have belongs to you, honey. My looks are naturally for you too, so I don’t want to show them to other men."
"..."
For a moment, Ian found himself at a loss for words at the sight of his wife intending to personally embrace the culture of wearing a hijab.
"Y-you don’t have to go that far. And living with your face covered would feel rather stifling."
"It’s fine. If I can give you all of myself, honey, I can endure any amount of discomfort."
When it seemed she truly intended to embrace hijab culture, Ian had no choice but to offer a second-best alternative.
"Why not just stay inside the house instead? Then I’d be the only one who could see you."
"Yes, I’d like that♥"
Isabelle answered his question immediately, as if it were something that did not require even a moment’s thought.
All Ian could do in response was smile awkwardly.
Normally, a wife would hate a husband’s possessiveness when he did not consider her feelings, but Isabelle wanted that possessiveness from him.
Well, if my wife wants it, I should give it to her.
Of course, Ian had no intention of confining Isabelle to a cramped house.
For her sake, he intended to turn the entire village upside down.
"Isabelle, shall we go now?"
"Yes♥"
Before everyone’s eyes, Ian wrapped an arm around Isabelle’s waist.
It was to show everyone that she was his woman.
Together, he and Isabelle reached the altar.
"I will not make the ceremony lengthy."
Vanessa, who had once again taken on the role of officiant, spoke while looking between Ian and Isabelle.
"Seraphim has already borne witness to the love between you two. Therefore, we will omit all formal procedures and proceed directly to the final step."
The final step was the kiss of vows, and Ian looked at Isabelle to kiss her.
Isabelle’s eyes were brimming with tears.
"Why are you crying on such a happy day?"
"Because I’m so happy."
"There will be many more happy days ahead. Are you going to cry every time?"
"No. I won’t cry anymore."
At his words, Isabelle smiled.
"Because you promised to make me happy, honey."
Isabelle remembered.
She remembered his vow that day to make her happy no matter what.
And she believed in it without the slightest doubt.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Slowly, they pressed their lips together.
It was not the wet, lingering kind of kiss they usually shared, but no kiss could have been more passionate.
Thus, before everyone watching, they shared their kiss of vows.
Now, Isabelle’s status as Ian’s wife had been revealed to the entire world.
. . .
"Fuck!"
Kaelen, who had been watching the wedding, vented his displeasure.
His own wife was dead, leaving him a widower, while someone else was marrying a beautiful wife. There was no way he could feel good about it.
"Ptooey. Fucking disgusting."
"Kaelen, hold it in. Let’s focus on our own business."
"No, fuck that. John, let’s have that bitch. With the drugs Finn prepared, she’ll be crying out while we fuck her too."
"Ha ha, have you been drinking? Don’t take the joke too far."
At Kaelen’s remark, John gave an awkward smile and looked around.
People were passing by all around them.
He would not have cared if they were only villagers, but the believers visiting from elsewhere were a different matter.
The already ugly atmosphere due to Torm could flare up once more because of Kaelen’s comment.
Fortunately, no one paid any attention to Kaelen’s explosive remark.
Everyone was too busy congratulating Ian and Isabelle on their wedding.
Everyone except one person, that was.
"There’s nothing to be scared of. He’s an outsider anyway, right? There isn’t a single person in this village who’d care even if he died—"
"My, my! I believe I just heard something rather strange."
A nun approached John and Kaelen.
She was a nun they knew as well.
Her exceptionally beautiful appearance among the nuns had made her memorable.
Especially her golden hair, which swayed down to her shoulders, had left a particularly strong impression.
"Would you repeat what you just said in front of me?"
She wore her usual bright smile, but today, there was something distinctly different about it.
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