Chapter 65: Chaotic Wedding
The youngest bishop cleared his throat. Loudly. Twice.
Serathine didn’t blink. "Begin."
He fumbled the first line. "We are gathered here—uh, today, in... union... sanctioned by..."
Lucas tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable. Trevor, ever supportive, offered the man a deadpan nod as if to say, you’re doing amazing; please, for the love of god skip the intro, which only made the poor bishop’s voice crack harder.
The bishop flushed, glanced down at the page again, and attempted to continue with dignity he absolutely did not possess.
"...sanctioned by—by law, tradition, and the blessed oversight of the Imperial Faith, we, uh, witness the binding of..."
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His voice faltered when he looked up and realized Trevor was watching him with all the patience of a man who could have bribed him but chose not to. Just to see if he’d break on his own.
"...the binding of Lucas Oz Kilmer D’Argente and Trevor Fitzgeralt, in... holy, um, matrimony."
"Trevor Ariston Fitzgeralt and Lucas Oz D’Argente," Trevor corrected, with the patience of a saint and the tone of someone who once ended a business negotiation by smiling and bankrupting the other party in under ten minutes.
The bishop visibly recalculated his life choices.
"Right. Yes. Of course," he mumbled, shuffling papers that were already sweat-stained and crooked. "My apologies, Lord Fitzgeralt. Lord D’Argente."
Lucas didn’t flinch at the title. He merely tilted his head in mild agreement, as if to say, see, even he knows now, while his fingers tapped twice against the hem of his shirt—nervous energy dressed as poise.