Sol leaned back in his chair, exhaling softly as he stared at the ceiling.
The wedding. His first official one.
A moment of joy. A sacred rite. A public ceremony that would mark a new beginning— not just for him, but for Lustburg and his people— all of humanity.
But what made a wedding successful?
He tapped his fingers against the armrest, letting the question turn over in his mind. He was sure that there were many factors to consider, but the first one was clear.
Security.
Unquestionably, that was the most important tenet to conduct a successful marriage event. Not just the physical safety of the guests, but the symbolic protection of the event. It had to be unshakable. No one would dare interrupt his wedding unless they had a death wish… and he meant that literally. The witches were on full alert. The Air Space project would cover the skies above the venue. The Knights of Luxuria and the Crown’s Shadows would all be on duty.
And yet, it wasn’t enough to merely keep intruders out. Sol planned to erase all possibilities of his wedding even turning wrong. Even if he had to tire his soul out by observing the Thread of Destiny, he would leave no stone unturned.
Outside of security, weddings needed something more.
Emotion.
A wedding had to have a meaning. It had to touch hearts, no matter who they were. It had to be genuine. Not just a formality between a king and his queen, but a story the people could believe in. A moment they could carry with them. He did not wish to put on a crown and smile like a puppet. He wanted to look Medea in the eye and feel that what they were undergoing now was both genuine, for both of them.
He wanted the wedding to matter, not just be some task that they needed to be done with. And it actually did matter; it mattered a lot for him. Medea was his first love, and though the list of women he considered his continued to grow, she still held an unshakable place in his heart. She was special in so many ways he could hardly describe them all, and he wanted her to know without a shadow of a doubt that her position as the witches' leader did not influence his feelings for her.
Family.
Who would stand beside him? Lilith obviously would. In this world, only three members of the Luxuria family remained, and Lilith was the only senior. Though Lilith was only a homunculus and, in reality, was not related to him, there was no need for the world to be aware of that information.
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Camelia, too, would be beside him. No one else but her could officiate such a ceremony.
Nent, perhaps. Kiyohime… maybe not at the altar, but present somewhere in the venue, overwatching the event. That would be enough. There was no need for everyone to forget the bitter and gruelling past, but he hoped they could share this one day, without claws, flames, or passive-aggressive stares.
He chuckled to himself. It was a miracle already that Nent and Kiyohime were not actively fighting and butting heads against each other.
And of course, there were Lilin, Setsuna, Isis, Milia, and so many more. Nobles like Athena Highland and others would also be invited, of course, but they were of no concern.
The only thing worrying was how the wedding would proceed.
He had no clue regarding what Medea was planning. Like a mystery wrapped in silk and shadows, his future bride was always a few steps ahead, always watching from behind a veil. Sometimes also peeping a little too much. However, at this point, it was more a recurring joke than anything else. He was sure all his girls found a way to peek one way or another at least once.
Matter of fact, he did not even know where his future wife was right now, but Sol was able to calmly assess his situation. He knew she would come. There was no need to question her loyalty to him— it was eternal, and he knew it more than anyone. She had stood by him in ways no one else had. He just wished she would at least give him a hint about her dress.
Would she go traditional? Bold? He could already imagine her smirk, teasing him just enough to fluster him but never enough to lose control. Then, once he stopped playing along, her smirk would change into a shy smile that would melt his heart.
He was hopeless. Even after all this time, she had him in her tiny clutches. But was it not how love was supposed to be? To be helpless in the presence of the other, to give everything for each other.
He chuckled. The next most important thing for this wedding would be—
Symbolism.
His expression grew serious. For all the love he had for Medea, Sol was not so naive that he could readily ignore the advantages this union would bring.
As heartless as it may sound, this wedding was not just about love. It was political. Spiritual. Divine even. This wedding would certainly become part of his doctrine, and Medea would also be part of his Pantheon.
He was a Prince marrying a witch. A mortal approaching godhood, binding himself to a woman touched by the divine. It would set the tone for his future church, for the path ahead. The ceremony had to be perfect— not just extravagant, but meaningful and memorable. Every word. Every gesture. Everything.
It was a promise to the people. A promise to the goddesses. A promise to himself.
Sol stood and moved to the balcony of the Tower of Babel, overlooking the capital bathed in twilight. The golden roofs shimmered, and the temple spires stood tall against the dying light.
Standing so high, all the people below looked like mere ants to him. One thought was all he needed to eradicate all of them without even breaking a sweat. This was how far he had come in his journey chasing absolute power. From the simple boy unable to handle mana due to not awakening yet, to someone on the doorstep of Godhood.
It was exhilarating. It filled his heart with a feeling of pride that was slowly transforming into greed. Greed for the highest throne of the universe.
This entire Kingdom was his and soon this would extend to the entire world. Then all the realm and finally, this entire universe would one day repose in the palm of his hand.
“I look like some stupid villain preparing his megalomaniac plan.” He opened his arm wide, as if embracing the world, and took a deep breath.
Tomorrow, he would get his suit. Once again, he had zero worries. Arachne may act like someone who needed to get punched at least once. However, she currently had his best interest at heart, and she was the greatest seamstress in the Mortal Realm.
The day after, he would say his vows. It was funny how he had them written on paper. His memory was more than perfect, but he had to admit that he was getting slightly stressed and having jitters about the whole ordeal.
Once the vow ended and they officially became husband and wife, after that… perhaps, for the first time in a long while, he could afford to just breathe.
No conspiracy, no training, no plans, nothing. Just enjoying his honeymoon with his beloved wife.
Thinking of his wife, he smiled and went back to his chair.
“Call Clara. We need to organize ourselves.”
They had more paperwork to do, and the sooner he finished here, the sooner he would be able to enjoy life with his wife.
Though he definitely needed to give Clara some vacation as well. The elf assistant had helped him greatly. Without her, Lustburg would be in a far worse situation.
He could already imagine her refusing, but this time he woulit wouldn’t be a request but an order. He couldn’t have his best administrator crumble on him now, could he?