My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 264. In the Blink of an Eye

"If the contractions are coming at one-minute intervals... doesn’t that mean the baby is almost here?"

Ferda checked once again.

"That’s true, but I can hold out a little longer. I’m okaaay—ngh!!"

Lyudmila clenched her teeth and grabbed her stomach.

Another contraction had come.

"Forget that. Wouldn’t it be better to call the midwife and have the delivery done now? We can postpone the wedding for about an hour—"

"No... I can’t!"

Even in the midst of excruciating pain, she refused to lose consciousness.

"This is my first child with my adorable... husband... I can’t let the baby become a bastard...!"

It was a trivial reason.

However, from the perspective of a high-ranking noble, it was not entirely incomprehensible.

Even if two people were engaged and genuinely in love, a child born before their wedding was considered illegitimate.

That fact would inevitably be recorded, leaving a permanent stain on the child’s name. Later, when the child inherited a title, even their legitimacy could be questioned because of that flaw.

That was precisely why, whenever nobles made such a mistake, both families would hurry to arrange the marriage.

"As far as I know, this wedding is supposed to last more than three hours in total."

"It’s only... three hours, isn’t it?"

"You are on the verge of giving birth right now."

If they delayed too long, the mother’s life could be put at risk.

Ferda had already decided that no matter how stubborn she was, he would stop this.

"Anyway, I’ll postpone the ceremony using my authority as Regent. So—"

"Regent Ferda...!!"

Lyudmila spoke with all the strength she could muster.

Ferda was overwhelmed by her voice.

"During the wedding... the bride’s orders are absolute. Do you know why?"

"...."

"Because after the wedding, she becomes a complete member of another family. She is thrown into another household for at least a few years, and sometimes for decades."

"......"

"What if she is unable to properly bear a child? Or what if the man who becomes her husband takes an interest in some younger woman? If she is cast aside like an old rag, then she has to live in a nightmare for the rest of her life."

"......"

"For a man, it may be a kind of ceremony where he can receive the same honor several times throughout his life. But for a woman, it is the most important ceremony she will ever have. That is why, at least for this one day, they give her enough authority to rival even a queen."

"...So you’re saying you intend to use that authority?"

"Yes...!"

Lyudmila’s pain-filled eyes were filled with an even deeper venom.

"If you tell Arwen or my father about this, I will curse Regent Ferda for the rest of my life!"

"You’re threatening me right now—"

"Yes. I am!"

Ferda was speechless.

The woman who was about to become a Countess was speaking to the husband of a dragon, and more importantly, the Regent of a Grand Duchy, in such a manner.

It was simply unheard of.

Yet even the mouth he had opened to protest could no longer form another word.

"I told you... very clearly!"

As the contraction subsided, Lyudmila finally caught her breath.

Her eyes were like frost falling in midsummer, or flames that refused to die even in the depths of a freezing winter.

They were eyes bordering on madness.

Ferda had seen those eyes before.

Not in this world, but in the land between worlds—in Limbo.

’Phyliaz...’

Entities that spent their entire lives cursing men and doing nothing but making their lives difficult.

Lyudmila looked as though she might awaken into one of those beings at any moment.

***

Ferda emerged from the bridal waiting room with a dumbfounded expression.

Igor and Sergei, who had been waiting for him, met his eyes.

"Were you defeated?"

They had already recognized from Ferda’s expression that he looked like a defeated soldier.

Ferda quietly nodded.

"I think I understand now why the Young Family Head and the Great Warrior are wearing those expressions."

"Well, there is one thing we can learn from this."

"Our adorable little sister inherited the blood of a warrior after all."

"......"

They tried to laugh it off, but the situation was anything but amusing.

"For now, let the wedding proceed as planned."

"Without stopping it?"

"Apparently, the bride is absolute during the wedding."

Perhaps everyone had been overwhelmed by that logic, because they silently nodded.

Whether Lyudmila’s obsession was foolish or not remained to be seen.

Ferda decided to trust her and focus on what would happen after the wedding.

"Let the wedding proceed, but the moment it ends, the two of you are to carry Lyudmila away as if you were tossing her into the air and immediately take her to the delivery room. Understood?"

"Yes. Understood."

"I’m more nervous about this than when an army of orcs came charging at us."

"My wife and my other sisters seemed to have suffered terribly during their first childbirths as well. How is that little one supposed to endure those contractions for three hours...?"

Making a woman who was about to give birth wait for three hours was madness.

"Couldn’t we simplify the wedding a little?"

The ceremony took so long because of all the elaborate formalities justified by tradition.

If they simply cut out the unnecessary parts, the duration could be reduced dramatically.

"I doubt whether that can be done so easily..."

"If the person doing it is a dragon rather than a human, it might be possible."

The reason this wedding was so grand was because Valdrova had come to visit.

"If we tell her that she is feeling bored, perhaps we could noticeably simplify it."

"That is a good idea, but there is a slight problem."

Zed, who had appeared a little later, spoke.

He had already arrived at the castle ahead of the others as part of the entourage.

"What is it?"

"I heard Penelope was already making a scene and shouting that something was wrong, so I went to investigate first. I had no choice but to ask the priest about it, but..."

"What did he say?"

"The young priest officiating the ceremony said that he completely understands the situation and can proceed quickly. However..."

"However?"

"The problem is the High Priest in charge of the blessing. He has been a highly respected religious leader for a long time, but he is extremely old now. Apparently, he is hard of hearing and very stubborn."

"How stubborn can he possibly be?"

"There was a similar situation in the past. Apparently, he canceled the entire wedding. He said there were no shortcuts when it came to a sacred ritual..."

What an old senile fool.

"What if we threaten him with a dragon?"

"He might decide to become a martyr."

He was old enough to have nothing left to lose.

From Ferda’s perspective, that made him the most troublesome opponent of all.

"Can’t we just remove him from the ceremony?"

"That probably won’t work, will it?"

Since the state religion of the Arken Empire was the Alte Religion, a priest’s blessing was indispensable at a noble’s wedding.

And since Lyudmila wanted a perfect wedding, she would not compromise on this point either.

"We’ll have to leave the blessing intact. How many minutes does the blessing ritual take?"

"The blessing spell, in which he sprinkles holy water from a silver basin onto both parties with his hands, alone will take more than an hour."

It accounted for a full third of the ceremony.

For a pregnant woman who was already in desperate need of immediate delivery, one hour was equivalent to an eternity of suffering.

Postponing the wedding was obviously the best choice.

But the bride herself refused to accept it.

If he tried to persuade Lyudmila carelessly, she might turn into a witch and curse Ferda for the rest of his life.

’What a headache.’

The wedding was a bride’s absolute day.

Ferda had no idea what he was supposed to do.

***

After putting their heads together and discussing the matter at length, Ferda returned to his seat.

Valdrova seemed to have been absorbed in the orchestra’s music. She apparently had not even noticed Ferda’s presence until he approached.

"How did you like the music?"

Valdrova answered in an excited voice.

"It was wonderful. Northern music is truly lively and enjoyable."

"I’m glad you enjoyed it."

Ferda sat down as casually as he could.

A short while later, the servants dismissed the musicians, and a young priest stepped onto the platform.

The priest cleared his throat and began officiating the ceremony.

"From this moment onward, we shall proceed with the wedding ceremony. Ordinarily, it would be proper for me to quote the words of the holy Alte and offer wisdom to everyone here. However, I can see that the hearts of everyone present already contain God. Therefore, this inexperienced servant shall refrain from speaking unnecessarily."

Just as Zed had told him, the young priest was remarkably flexible.

Under normal circumstances, quoting passages from the scriptures would have taken about forty minutes.

And no one was likely to complain about a priest who had decided not to waste their time with unnecessary words.

Ferda had been worried that it would feel unnatural, but the young priest handled it skillfully.

The ceremony proceeded quickly while still maintaining enough of the proper formalities to avoid appearing suspicious.

"In accordance with the teachings of the great Father of Light, Alte, I hereby declare that I have become His witness in this place. Now, let the groom enter."

Arwen, the groom, appeared.

His expression was visibly tense.

He clearly had no idea what had happened.

"Next, the bride shall enter."

Everyone rose to welcome the bride.

Lady Lyudmila Purity entered to the accompaniment of a sweet melody, dressed in a pure white wedding gown.

"Huh...?"

Valdrova stared toward the bride with a question mark practically appearing above her head.

"What is it?"

"It’s just... Lyudmila’s face looks a little pale..."

Her eyesight was sharp enough to see through the thick veil.

Yet she did not seem certain.

"How does she look to you, Mr. Ferda?"

"She looks fine to me."

"Really? Then perhaps it was just my imagination."

Valdrova could not say anything more and simply watched Lyudmila with concern.

Ferda felt an unnecessary pang of guilt.

Meanwhile, the young priest continued officiating at a rapid pace.

"We shall now proceed with the blessing ceremony for the future of the bride and groom."

The elderly High Priest then entered.

The way he walked made it painfully obvious just how old he had become.

"Whew... Let me rest for a moment. My knees aren’t what they used to be now that I’ve grown old."

The elderly priest stopped several times while entering, catching his breath.

Those who did not know the current situation would have found his behavior perfectly understandable.

But to those who knew what was happening, it was an agonizing sight.

Ferda almost wished he could simply pick the old man up and carry him straight to the platform.

After somehow making it onto the ceremonial platform, the old priest began sprinkling holy water from a silver basin.

"In the name of the great Alte, I command that you two..."

He wet his hand with the holy water and sprinkled it toward the bride and groom.

His chanting was slow.

His steps were even slower.

And his hand sprinkling the water was the slowest of them all.

Lyudmila kept her eyes closed and smiled.

Yet her jaw was tense enough that the veins stood out from how hard she was biting her lips.

But enduring it was not simply a matter of willpower.

Everything had its proper time.

And Lyudmila’s time had inevitably arrived.

The pure white wedding dress began to grow damp from within.

Just as they had feared, her water broke in the middle of the ceremony.

’What am I supposed to do now...?’

At this moment, only Ferda, who was already aware of what was happening, could barely notice it.

But soon, everyone would realize.

The bride’s word might be absolute during a wedding, but did that principle still apply when the lives of both mother and child could be in danger?

Perhaps it would be better to save the lives of the mother and child, even if it meant earning Lyudmila’s hatred.

With that thought, Ferda carefully began to rise from his seat.

—Kekekeke!!

A frivolous laugh echoed through the sacred atmosphere.

The elderly High Priest narrowed his eyes and thundered.

"Who is it? What insolent creature dares make such a laugh during this sacred wedding?"

—If you ask who I am, then naturally I must answer, you foolish servant of Alte!

Boom!

Something appeared amid a cloud of purple smoke.

It wore a masquerade mask, but its white hair and purple skin were clearly visible.

A spade-shaped tail.

Bat wings.

And a pair of horns protruding from its head.

There was only one being that could possess those characteristics.

Everyone cried out its identity in unison.

"A demon!?"

"Why would a demon invade such a sacred wedding?!"

It was a moment of complete confusion.

The difference was that most of them were confused because they did not know the demon’s identity, while a small number were confused because they did.

’Penelope?’

"Penelope?"

Valdrova realized who it was and called out her name.

"Why is she—"

Just as she was about to say something, Ferda quietly took her hand.

Don’t let anyone know you recognize her.

Perhaps she understood what he meant, because Valdrova remained silent.

The demon, Penelope, moved like a mischievous child and stood before the elderly High Priest.

"Take that!"

She overturned the silver basin in the High Priest’s hands, spilling it toward Lyudmila and Arwen.

"That insolent—!"

"Drag that demon out immediately!"

At the angry commands of the guests, the guards began to move.

But then—

"Silence!"

It was the High Priest who stopped them.

"Do not act recklessly during a sacred ritual!"

His voice was so booming that it was difficult to believe this was the same old man who had looked as though he were dying moments ago.

With his years of experience and authority combined, even the head of House Purity could not easily interfere.

"You filthy demon! Do you intend to ruin a wedding being conducted under Alte’s protection!?"

"That’s right! I came here to ruin these two’s wedding! So what are you going to do about it, old man?"

Penelope shouted tauntingly.

"What can you possibly do?"

"You insolent wretch—!!"

"So the High Priest of the Alte Religion is nothing but talk! Kekeke! The only thing you can do is splash a basin of plain water in someone’s face, you useless old man!"

That was when it happened.

As the demon continued insulting and mocking him, the wrinkles on the old High Priest’s face began to twitch and contort.

The frail appearance of the old man transformed in an instant into something resembling a fearsome judge.

His lowered eyebrows flashed upward, and his eyes burned with faith.

"You filthy third-rate demon! Just as your shallow tricks cannot hide the heavens, neither can they conceal the light of Alte!!"

He raised both hands high and formed them into the shape of a round sun.

"Though the water has been spilled by your hand, Alte’s blessing has already seeped into the two of them! All that remains is for me to declare it in the name of the High Priest!"

"What, what!?"

Penelope pretended to panic.

As though delivering the finishing blow to her, the High Priest shouted with all his might.

"By the authority of Alte’s representative, High Priest Nordic Greyhorn, I hereby declare that these two have become husband and wife under the protection of Alte!"

"Oh no, we’re screwed!!"

Having accomplished what she came to do, Penelope immediately turned and fled.

The furious High Priest shouted in a booming voice.

"The ceremony is now complete! Seize that blasphemous demon!"

"Get her! Guards! Knights!!"

Amid the chaos, Igor and Sergei, who had already been briefed on the plan, carried Lyudmila away under the pretense of tossing the bride into the air in celebration.

The entire process happened in the blink of an eye.

Arwen, who was utterly bewildered by the situation, quietly approached Ferda and spoke.

"That demon... Wasn’t she someone named Penelope?"

Arwen had also immediately figured out the identity of the strange demon.

Ferda nodded.

"That’s right. It’s Penelope."

"Lyudmila told me that she’s devious on the inside but not particularly wise, making her a useful friend... Why did she make such a mess of the wedding? She doesn’t seem like the kind of demon who lacks that much common sense..."

Since Arwen knew nothing about what had really happened, it was only natural that he had no idea what was going on.

Could he really believe it?

That the demon had actually protected Lyudmila’s honor.

Ferda placed a hand on his shoulder and said,

"Anyway, congratulations."

"Huh? Ah, thank you."

"I hope your eldest son, who should be arriving soon, is healthy."

"Yes... Yes?"

It was only thirty minutes later that Arwen finally understood what Ferda had meant.

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