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Fitting into a suit was always such a bother, Caligula thought to himself, shoulders nearly tearing the fabric of the cheaply procured formalwear in two. For the former Emperor, the idea of a wedding was a formality, not something to be emotionally invested in. It made him think of her, and he still had not found a way to process his lost love: His Goddess of the Moon.
But when his niece had announced her intent to wed Ritsuka Fujimaru, Humanity’s Final Master, he couldn’t help but smile. Nero had seen so much pain in her life, not least of which from his sister Agrippina, gods damn her; and it brought him great joy to see her rushing around the makeshift temple like a whirlwind given human form.
“Umu, it has to be perfect! The roses face the sun, and my harp alongside them,” she said excitedly, forgetting how the acoustics of such an intimate venue had rendered her voice into a weapon all its own. Liz squinted, her horns furrowing as she heard Nero’s demands.
“But…. that would mean that the harp would reflect the sun into the audience, right? Isn’t that a problem?”
“Nonsense!” Nero bellowed, as though she had been asked to choose which arm she would rather have. “Why wouldn’t they want to be completely enraptured by Roma’s Brightest Star, the Flower of Olympia?” Sensing her attempts to sway the Empress towards reason had failed, the lady Bathory took her leave. At least I get to perform at the reception, she thought to herself as she made her way back to the greater Chaldea Observatory, draconic tail lashing behind her.
The rest of the preparations went smoothly enough after the Rose Incident (the term Nero would later refer to it as, to both the annoyance of Elizabeth and the great amusement of Romulus, who found Liz’s antics most days tiresome), with food and drink procured in massive quantities. Caligula however, preferred to spend his time before the ceremony in quiet contemplation, offering prayers to whatever gods he felt still heard his pleas.
“I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.” Whether that made sense in the context of servant summoning, who could really say, but Nero believed it, and for her, that was enough.
King Gilgamesh clapped loudly and inappropriately, as one could expect of him. He had seen fit to deign this wedding with his presence (his friendly rivalry with the Empress had become one of his greatest joys in Chaldea), and though he was not invited to the event, felt the need to make both his arrival and approval known to all, including the happy couple.
Nero laughed loudly, and called out to him, gazing skyward though the newly created hole in the temple at the floating figure, held aloft by his magic. “Would you prefer to wed my Praetor as well, King of Heroes? That can be arranged.”
“You entertain me still, child! No, no, that is quite alright. As you are aware, my heart belongs to another.” Enkidu smiled, a mixture of both embarrassment and mirth in their face as they sat alongside their partner, hands and hearts intertwined.
“Umu! Like I would allow you to have her anyway. Now, if you’ve nothing else to say, King of Heroes, I believe I have a bride to make mine.” She smiled warmly, and pulled Ritsuka in close, attempting to dip her as one would their wife for a passionate wedding kiss. While attempting to hold Gudako in her arms, she quickly realized the height difference between them, and her heels began to drag her downwards to the floor, buckling under the increased weight. As her face became flush with embarrassment, she found herself spun around, safely in the arms of her newlywed.
“Are you alright, dilectæ?”
Nero turned scarlet.
“Umu.”
“So, what say you, good doctor? Fujimara is going to save humanity, with Roma’s best at her side!” Caligula’s crimson eyes glowed brightly, as he spoke to his only slightly less intoxicated drinking partner across the table.
Nightingale slumped in her chair. She had drunk herself silly (a common occurrence in Chaldea after work was concluded). Taking up the woman in his arms, he returned to her quarters, and tucked her in.
“Good night, Florence,” he said softly, as he closed the door, and went to look out at the moon, as he always had. One day, he too, would find his beloved, somehow.