Malaya sat in a seat of honor, maids and servants dashing around her.
It should have been hard for someone to remain flushed for so long. At the very least, her heart should have given out long ago from the mixture of nerves and anxiety. But it seemed that she wouldn’t be allowed to do even that much today.
There were at least three wind mancers in the room controlling currents to cool her down and yet not disturb her hair or makeup. It would be quite useful, and she should even be thankful, if not for the fact she almost wanted to pass out to have her own miniature time skip.
There was nothing worse than the anticipation of waiting.
Even now, she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about this. But then again… she had always known that her marriage wouldn’t be up to her. All things considered, though Theron was four years younger than herself and she never really imagined things being like this…
It was better than marrying someone forty years older than her.
She sighed. ’What sort of man are you really, Theron?’
While Malaya didn’t have much life experience, there was still a reason why, of all the available students, Teacher Fern had still picked her out to be Theron’s partner.
If Theron hadn’t leveraged some influence to force this to happen, she wouldn’t believe it. She wasn’t as naive as most people thought her to be. She was actually among the most intelligent in the Imperial Academy.
But right now… she just really wanted to know why.
Does he even like me at all?’ she thought silently.
Oddly, these thoughts helped her calm.
**
Theron opened his eyes. ’It’s about time.’
According to the tradition of the Nightingale Province, it was his job to pick up his bride with an escort and gifts.
He had no noble status, so his gifts were provided by the Thistle Clan. Since he was currently representing their face, it was only natural.
But Theron was still surprised to step out of the room and find Sigil waiting for him.
“What? Why so surprised? I can’t possibly allow my little brother to go off on his own, right? What if some shameless fellows try to bully you?”
Theron chuckled and then nodded. The two walked out from a side door of the wedding venue. They had rented out the entire Purple Scale Teahouse, luxurious banners of violet, maroon, and velvet red hanging from banisters and indoor balconies. ṙ𝘈₦Ò𝖇ЕŞ
When the duo stepped out into the warm air, there was a long line of carriages and well-bred steeds adorned in beautiful wooden armors. Vines wrapped around their legs and bodies, but rather than making them slower, the pulsing Mana in the air made it clear that this was the exact opposite.
“What are you expecting?” Sigil asked.
In response, Theron tapped a foot and landed on a horse at the front. With a movement of his own Mana, he unhitched it from the procession.
“What am I expecting?” Theron smiled. “Nothing on the way there. Fun on the way back.”
After saying this, Theron kicked the side of the steed and shot off into the distance.
Sigil was speechless. This wasn’t the sort of briefing he wanted. How about some more detail?
“If we don’t go now, we’ll be wasting the rain.” Theron’s laughter echoed from the distance.
“Rain?” Sigil raised an eyebrow and looked up to the clear sky. “What is he…”
A rumble echoed.
Sigil’s pupils constricted.
It took him a long while of silence before he slowly recovered. That… was not normal.
Theron had mentioned that there would be rain weeks ago, but Sigil had honestly forgotten, mostly because he thought Theron was just messing around.
How could someone predict the weather?
There were Mana scientists that were capable, but definitely not two weeks out, and certainly not to the exact hour.
“… Replace the stud. Let’s go.”
Sigil’s orders echoed out.
…
The procession moved out through the main roads of Thistle Brook City. Theron led the charge, his long black hair fluttering in a high ponytail.
His black and blue robes fluttered, the heaviness of his sleeves and their sheer volume seemingly not affecting him at all.
His smile slowly faded from his face, and a deathly seriousness came over him as the Vermouth Clan mansion closed in from a distance.
Their wide gates, with a pair of lions facing out to the world, gave off a powerful presence.
The Vermouth Clan was a family of Flex Mancers especially known for their lion-like strength. Taking it quite literally, the feral beast became their spirit animal as well.
All things considered, they weren’t the perfect match for the Luminscent Moon Sect that had inheritances more based in finesse than anything else, but geniuses of a path didn’t have such limitations.
Seeing Malaya’s brother standing alone at the entrance, his eyes sharp and his aura deadly, Theron felt that quite intimately.
Theron pulled the reins of his steed. As its forelegs reeled upward, he flipped off its back, landing to its side with a confident stride.
With a deathly calm expression, he crossed the distance between himself and the gate as the procession behind him also slowed.
Somehow, his horse remained obediently in place.
Theron himself, though, came to a stop two meters from Aeryn, looking up slightly to meet his gaze.
Neither said a word. Theron didn’t greet his brother-in-law-to-be, nor did Aeryn explain why he was there…
Until he suddenly said something that made Sigil—who was already at the ready—jolt.
“Today, you have no choice but to take a palm from me.”
Aeryn moved the instant he spoke.
Too fast.
Theron could hardly react before a palm slammed against his chest.
His ribs deformed, his pupils constricted as a mouthful of blood came from his lips.
BANG!
The echo of the blow only resounded in his ears long after he was sent flying.