StarWaves - The Fox Hole! 165

Chapter 165:

– Haru –

Mom had returned to Kyoto less than an hour after we killed the Elden Beast. The celebration she had been planning for my marriage to Ranni had apparently mutated into a combined wedding reception, victory feast, diplomatic summit, and excuse for every heavy drinker I knew to invade her palace.

I stayed in Caria.

Leaving immediately would have felt wrong. I had accepted the Dark Moon Greatsword, married Ranni before her mother and her people, and become a prince of this kingdom. 

The Dark Moon Greatsword rested inside a protected section of my inventory space. I gave it its own compartment, safely removed from my cookware, emergency ingredients, spare clothes, monster parts, and the increasingly bizarre collection of magical objects I accumulated over the years.

A weapon representing an eternal matrimonial vow probably deserved better than being stored beside three mammoth steaks and half a barrel of Kappa sake.

Even hidden away, I could feel its connection to me. I could feel the connection it gave me to…my wife.

Every time my mind touched that word, my tails tried to wag.

I stood in the middle of one of Caria’s largest public squares with my sleeves rolled above my elbows, a heavy blue apron tied around my waist, and enough cooking equipment to cater a small army arranged in front of me.

Broad grills burned with carefully controlled foxfire. Iron stoves supported simmering stockpots. Three flat cooking surfaces hissed beneath rows of fish, vegetables, and marinated venison. Another station held pans of frog legs frying in garlic butter, while an entire wild boar slowly roasted over a long bed of blue flame.

The ingredients had come from the untouched northern reaches of Caria’s forests, the deeper sections of the lake, and the kingdom’s food stores. 

Two of my tails turned venison skewers. Another stirred a cauldron of stew. A fourth moved crisp frog legs onto warmed serving trays. Three more carried empty bowls between the preparation tables and the serving line. The remaining tails stayed behind me, gently swaying whenever I stopped paying attention to them.

I could have made shadow clones and finished the entire meal in half the time. I had decided against it.

The people did not need a collection of disposable copies. They needed to see that I had stayed.

The square spread around me in a broad expanse of blue-gray stone, with silver constellations set into the pavement. Crescent arches framed the streets leading deeper into the city. Banners bearing Caria’s moon sigil hung from restored towers, stirring in the breeze. Glintstone lamps still glowed despite the afternoon light, their magic steady and undisturbed.

Above the city, the remnants of Ranni’s protective barrier shimmered like a nearly invisible dome. The city itself had survived untouched. So had the academy. Not one Carian life had been lost.

Beyond the outer buildings, however, the world looked as if two gods had tried to kill each other there.

Because two gods had tried to kill each other there…

The lake’s shoreline had been redrawn by the battle. Water filled several newly created craters, while steam drifted from places where divine and demonic power had struck the shallows. Hundreds of trees had been flattened. Others had been burned down to black skeletons or crystallized by the collision of lunar and golden magic.

The square was crowded with citizens from more worlds than I could identify. Some wore clothes resembling medieval tunics or tradesmen’s aprons. Others had patched military coats, brightly colored robes, respirator masks hanging unused around their necks, or jewelry engraved with prayers to gods they had long since stopped trusting.

Not every world deserved a permanent doorway through the Fox Hole. Sometimes Ranni had found a world so broken that the kindest connection she could create was one-way.

She had discovered people trapped in endless wars, cities poisoned by magic, kingdoms that burned suspected mages, settlements abandoned to monsters, and civilizations ruled by things that called themselves gods while treating mortal lives as property. She had offered their people a choice.

Some had stayed. Others had gathered everything they could carry and followed a four-armed blue goddess through the stars.

They had built homes here. Opened workshops. Planted fields. Sent their children to Carian schools. They had chosen this kingdom because Ranni had promised that no king, church, god, or empire would ever own them again.

Then the sky had cracked open above their new home. They were not panicking, but many kept glancing upward whenever the light shifted. Parents held their children closer than usual. Several families had packed bags resting beneath their tables, ready to run out of old habit despite having nowhere they needed to go. A few people ate too quickly, as if someone might take the food from them. Others stared at full bowls without touching them.

The scent of grilled fish, garlic, herbs, roasted meat, and fresh bread was slowly winning.

A knight in polished silver armor stood beside the venison stew. His sword rested against the serving table, and a dark-blue apron had been tied over his breastplate.

The broad-shouldered knight looked from the ladle to the line of waiting citizens. “Your Highness, I feel obligated to remind you that I was trained to defend the citizens…not serve them stew.”

I brushed a glaze of honey, wine, and herbs over the wild boar. “You’re defending them from an empty stomach…”

The knight glanced toward the citizens, squared his shoulders, and adjusted his grip on the ladle. “When you put it that way, Your Highness, the necessity is undeniable.”

Gradually, the square began to sound like a community again. Bowls clinked against tables. People exchanged food. Someone produced a stringed instrument I did not recognize and began testing its tuning.

The music was hesitant, but it was music.

A pair of human-looking children approached the edge of my cooking station while I transferred roasted vegetables into a serving dish. The older child was a dark-haired boy wearing a coat that had been patched at least six times. His younger companion, a girl with copper curls and solemn gray eyes, held his sleeve with one hand and an untouched bowl with the other.

Both stared at my tails before remembering why they had approached.

The little girl tightened her fingers around the bowl. “Is the golden monster really dead?”

I set down my knife, wiped my hands on my apron, and crouched until I was at her eye level. “It’s dead. It won’t be getting back up.”

The boy looked past me toward the damaged lake. “What about the thing that sent it?”

I felt the distant warmth of Ranni through our bond and smiled. “My wife handled that one. She cut it off from every world the stars can touch. It can’t reach Caria again.”

The girl’s gaze lifted toward the now-clear sky. “Can the sky still break?”

I rested my forearms on my knees and considered the question instead of offering her an easy lie. “A lot of strange things can happen to a sky. I can’t promise you’ll never see something frightening again.”

The girl’s face fell.

I let one of my tails curl around both children, the fur forming a warm barrier between them and the heat of the nearest grill. “But I can promise that if something else comes, you won’t face it alone. It’ll have to get through Ranni, Queen Rennala, me, my mother, and every other powerful friend I’ve ever fed.”

The boy’s eyes widened as he tried to imagine that list. “Are there a lot of powerful friends?”

I thought about all the people I had met since opening the Fox Hole. “You have no idea…”

The girl finally looked away from the sky and studied my face. “Are you really Princess Ranni’s husband?”

My ears twitched. My tails wagged. The two children were close enough to be nearly swept off their feet, and I had to pull several tails back before I embarrassed myself further.

I failed to stop smiling. I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. I really am.”

The boy peered up at me. “Does that mean you live here now?”

The answer felt surprisingly simple. “It means Caria is one of my homes now.”

The children carried their food to one of the long tables where they sat beside their family. Their mother met my eyes from the other side of the table. She did not say anything. She simply placed one hand over her heart and bowed her head.

That was enough.

A change moved through the crowd a few minutes later.

People stood. Conversations softened. The knights serving beside me straightened so quickly that one nearly launched a ladle into the air. A wave of cheers began near the western street and rolled across the square.

Rennala approached beneath a canopy of silver-blue banners. A contingent of Carian knights and battlemages surrounded her, though none looked as if they believed she genuinely needed their protection.

The woman walking toward me bore almost no resemblance to the broken queen I had first met. Her eyes were clear. Her back was straight. Her steps were measured without being distant. When she looked at her people, she actually saw them.

Citizens bowed as she passed. Some followed Carian custom. Others copied their neighbors a moment too late. Children waved, and Rennala paused more than once to return the gesture.

She had defeated Marika in the sky where everyone could see. 

Rennala reached the edge of the cooking area and raised one hand toward her escort. “You may stand down. The danger has passed.”

The captain hesitated.

Rennala pointed toward a stack of empty bowls that needed to be washed. “ If you still need something to do, those appear particularly dangerous…”

The captain looked at me with pleading eyes. He obviously didn’t want to be stuck on dish duty.

I gave him an evil grin as I offered him an apron. He accepted it with the hollow expression of a man who had just watched centuries of military tradition die in front of him.

Rennala stepped past him and came to my side. Up close, I could see faint traces of exhaustion around her eyes, along with a small burn near her temple that she had either missed or chosen not to heal yet.

Her gaze traveled across the grills, stockpots, serving tables, armored knights, and several hundred eating citizens.

Rennala’s smile grew warm. “Do you have room for another pair of hands?”

I lifted a clean apron from beneath the preparation table. “For the Queen of Caria? I suppose I can make an exception.”

Rennala turned so I could tie it behind her. “How gracious of you, my prince.”

I looped the apron strings around her waist without commenting on how surreal it felt to dress my new mother-in-law for kitchen duty.

She had been a broken goddess when I met her. Now she had defeated Marika, reclaimed her kingdom, and volunteered to serve frog legs.

Rennala accepted a ladle from a knight and stepped into place beside the cauldron as though serving venison stew had always been one of the sacred duties of Carian royalty. The dark-blue apron did very little to conceal the elegant dress beneath it. Midnight fabric hugged the generous curve of her breasts, narrowed around her waist, and followed the shape of her hips before falling in long, regal folds. Silver constellations shimmered across the material whenever she moved. 

My gaze traveled down her body before good judgment could intervene.

Rennala was beautiful. The apron strings I had tied around her waist only emphasized the shape they were supposed to cover.

She was also my new mother-in-law. That seemed like the sort of relevant detail my eyes should have considered before conducting a complete inspection.

Rennala glanced sideways and caught me staring. The corner of her mouth lifted, but she mercifully chose not to expose me in front of several hundred Carian citizens.

I cleared my throat and focused very intensely on glazing the wild boar. The glaze did not require nearly as much concentration as I suddenly gave it.

My eyes betrayed me one last time before I reclaimed control of them. “You look amazing for a woman who just settled a thousand-year grudge by fighting her rival across the sky.”

Rennala filled a bowl with stew, her old royal cadence carrying a satisfaction she made no effort to hide. “I am weary, aye, but I have not felt so alive in an age. To cast that golden harpy from the heavens and see her bound before me at last…” Her clear eyes gleamed with cold pleasure. “’Twas worth every ache!”

I slid the finished boar away from the hottest part of the foxfire and began carving the first portion. “Marika is secure, right?”

Rennala passed the bowl to a waiting woman before reaching for another. “She lies within the deepest oubliette beneath the Academy, still bound by my lunar chains. Grace no longer answers her. The Greater Will cannot hear her, and no servant of the Golden Order shall reach her without first passing through every battlemage remaining in Caria.”

The image of Marika waking alone in a dark cell, reaching for the power that had defined her existence, and finding nothing answered several questions I had not yet asked.

Rennala’s fingers tightened around the ladle, but her voice remained measured. “In time, we shall determine whether she is to face judgment, imprisonment, exile, or some harsher fate. I shall not decide while battle-fury yet colors mine every thought.” Her smile became considerably less merciful. “For now, the harpy may stew in her dark little hole and contemplate how thoroughly she hath lost.”

I considered making a joke about the importance of a long, slow stew. My survival instincts intervened. Instead, I arranged slices of roasted boar on a wide platter and drizzled the remaining glaze over them. “Probably smart. Life-changing decisions should never be made while angry, exhausted, or hungry.”

Rennala drew herself up with regal dignity despite the apron tied over her battle-damaged dress. “I am not hungry.”

I lifted a freshly fried frog leg between a pair of wooden tongs and held it toward her. “Then this should be easy to refuse...”

Rennala regarded the crisp, butter-glazed offering with visible suspicion for approximately two seconds before accepting it. She took one careful bite, and her eyelids lowered as the garlic butter, herbs, and tender meat reached her tongue.

Her regal composure survived. Barely….

Rennala finished the frog leg and extended her empty hand without looking at me. “Another!”

I placed a second one in her palm. “I thought you weren’t hungry.”

Rennala bit into it with considerably less restraint. “A queen is permitted to revise her position whenever she chooses...”

That was difficult to argue with.

We remained in the square for another hour.

At first, the citizens approached Rennala’s side of the serving line with visible discomfort. Some bowed so deeply that the people behind them nearly walked into their backs. Others tried to refuse the bowls she offered, apparently convinced that accepting food directly from their queen violated some ancient law of decorum.

Rennala refused to tolerate any of it.

A gray-haired man began lowering himself to one knee before her, his hands trembling around an empty bowl. Rennala caught him gently by the shoulder before he reached the ground. “Thou shalt not bend the knee more this day. Today, thou shalt sit, eat, and allow thy queen the privilege of serving thee.”

The man stared at her for several seconds before accepting the stew. Tears shone in his eyes as he carried it toward his family.

After that, the line moved more easily.

Rennala remembered names. Not every name, but far more than I expected. She recognized a blacksmith from a settlement Ranni had evacuated from a dying world. She asked a woman in a patched military coat whether her daughter had recovered from an illness. She promised an elderly mage that the Academy would soon reopen its western observatory.

People who had spent the last hour watching the sky began watching their queen instead.

The music grew stronger. The solitary stringed instrument was joined by a hand drum, a wooden flute, and something that resembled a steel bowl with crystal strips stretched across its surface. Children started chasing one another between the tables. Someone laughed loudly enough to startle a flock of silver-winged birds from a nearby roof.

By the time the final family received their food, the sun had begun descending toward the distant mountains. 

I stored the empty grills, stoves, knives, cutting boards, and cooking tools inside my inventory. The remaining food went into covered containers for the night watch and anyone who wanted a second meal later. 

Rennala removed her apron. 

The captain of Rennala’s escort approached with soap foam clinging to one gauntlet and the hollow expression of a man who had washed more bowls in an hour than enemies he had slain in his entire career…

Rennala examined the square before fixing the captain with her restored queenly authority. “Double the guard beneath the Academy. None are to enter Marika’s cell without mine direct permission or Ranni’s. If the prisoner wakes, speaks, moves, breathes strangely, or so much as looks too intently upon a wall, I am to be informed. If I am not here, then you will send a runner to Kyoto.”

The captain struck one fist against his breastplate, splattering soap across it. “At once, Your Majesty.”

Rennala glanced toward the damaged shoreline and the lingering steam rising from the craters. “Assign surveyors to the lake and forest. Repair crews are to begin at first light, but none shall enter an unstable region merely to satisfy my impatience.”

The captain bowed, clearly more comfortable receiving orders about divine contamination than washing dishes. “It will be done.”

Rennala’s expression softened as she looked across the tables. “And see that those on duty receive the food Prince Haru prepared. I shall not have the defenders of Caria watching others feast while their own bowls remain empty.”

The captain glanced at me before bowing again. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

We entered the academy palace. I stopped at a washroom long enough to scrub the smoke, grease, and flour from my hands and arms. A cleaning spell removed the lingering scent of cooking from my hair, ears, and tails.

My wedding suit had not survived the Elden Beast. I changed into a spare black formal kimono from my inventory. Golden foxfire patterns curled across the sleeves and hem, while dark-blue accents had been added weeks ago by Shuna for reasons that now felt unexpectedly appropriate. 

Rennala waited outside the washroom before the two of us headed to the throne room where I sensed Ranni waiting for us.

The enormous doors stood open.

For several seconds, I forgot how walking worked.

Ranni had dressed like a Lunar Princess, a victorious goddess, and a woman who knew exactly what effect she wanted to have on her husband.

It worked.

Her hair had been brushed until it fell in soft waves around her face and shoulders, threaded with tiny silver ornaments shaped like crescent moons.

Her dress was moonlight white. The silk seemed to glow from within, and thousands of tiny silver-blue stars shifted across it whenever she breathed. The bodice had been designed around all four of her arms, leaving her shoulders bare. Its neckline plunged daringly between her breasts, displaying enough blue skin to make coherent thought a distant memory.

The fabric fitted closely around her waist before opening into high slits on both sides. One long blue leg was exposed almost to the hip. When she shifted her weight, the other appeared through the opposite opening.

My gaze traveled from her face to her breasts, down her waist, along the exposed length of her legs, and back up again. My ears rose. Every one of my tails fluffed before beginning to wag with enough force to create a breeze through the throne room.

The same urge I had felt on the ruined shoreline returned with reinforcements.

I wanted to cross the room, scoop my wife into my arms, and carry her into the nearest empty bedroom. The reception could wait. Kyoto could wait. The entire multiverse could find its own food for one evening…

A deep violet blush spread across Ranni’s cheeks. Her upper hands folded with practiced dignity, but the lower pair betrayed her. One smoothed the front of her dress. The other repeatedly adjusted a silver chain at her waist that had never been out of place.

Ranni’s eyes moved over my kimono and tails. She was nervous. She was newly married, and standing before a husband who could now see how badly she wanted him too.

I crossed the throne room before either of us lost what remained of our restraint.

Ranni lifted her chin, attempting to summon the composure of an ancient lunar goddess while all four hands continued fidgeting. “Doth mine repaired attire meet with thy approval, mine husband?”

I stopped directly in front of her and let my tails spread around us. “Approval is an inadequate word.”

Ranni’s blush darkened, but pleasure warmed our bond. “Then I chose wisely.”

I slipped two tails around her waist and another beneath the hand closest to me. Her fingers curled into my fur automatically.

My attention dropped to the neckline of her dress again.

Ranni noticed. Her lips parted, and the nervous heat between us intensified.

I bent and kissed her. She met me before I reached her, all four arms wrapping around my neck and shoulders. The kiss began softly, filled with relief and wonder and the still-strange realization that we were husband and wife.

Then her lower hands entered the fur near the bases of my tails.

My entire body went rigid. Ranni made a pleased sound against my mouth.

I tightened my hold around her waist. If I lifted her now, the nearest bedroom was only three doors down. I counted while walking through the corridor…

Ranni apparently reached the same conclusion. One exposed blue leg slid against mine, and her fingers tightened in my fur.

Behind us, Rennala allowed the moment to continue just a bit longer before interrupting. “Kyoto…”

Ranni and I froze without separating.

Rennala regarded us with the patient severity of a mother addressing two particularly shameless children. “Thy reception awaits. Queen Yasaka hath gathered half the known multiverse within her palace, and we have delayed long enough.”

I kept my tails wrapped around Ranni and considered the distance to the nearest bedroom. “We could be a little late.”

Ranni leaned closer to me, her four arms remaining locked around my neck. “A brief delay would surely cause no lasting harm.”

Rennala’s eyes narrowed as she looked between us. “If we tarry further, thy mother shall cross the dimensions and retrieve us herself. I have defeated one enraged queen today. I possess no wish to battle another.” That was a compelling argument.

Mom would also never let us forget it if she had to drag us to our own reception.

Rennala’s expression softened into open amusement. “Thou mayest devour one another after fulfilling thy obligations to family, kingdom, and guests. Until then, compose yourselves. We leave for Kyoto now.”

Ranni released a quiet sigh against my mouth before reluctantly lowering her leg. I loosened my tails, though one remained securely around her waist.

Through our bond, my wife sent me a clear promise that the interruption was only temporary.

My tails immediately began wagging again.

By the time I finally found somewhere to sit, the celebration had been going for hours.

Calling it a party no longer felt accurate. Parties had guest lists. It seemed as if every friendly person who had ever eaten at the Fox Hole had received an invitation, along with their families, closest companions, political leaders, military commanders, guildmates, servants, and anyone else they thought might be offended if they were excluded.

Several thousand guests…

The grounds surrounding Yasaka’s palace no longer obeyed ordinary dimensions. The palace occupied the same amount of land it always had. Inside the supernatural barriers, the gardens and courtyards stretched for several kilometers.

Entire streets had been temporarily added between the palace wings. Pavilions stood beneath floating lanterns. Dance floors occupied gardens that had not existed that morning. Portal stations received new groups of guests every few minutes, each arrival inspected by tengu guards, Carian battlemages, Devil security specialists, and several magical constructs Ainz had loaned us for the night.

I could see at least five separate musical stages from where I stood.

A group of Nordic bards performed drinking songs near the largest mead pavilion. Carian musicians played crystalline instruments beneath an artificial field of stars. Konoha’s drummers occupied a circular stage beside a company of traditional Kyoto dancers. A Citadel entertainment system projected shifting holograms above a crowd of fascinated medieval nobles. Fairy Tail had claimed the fifth stage, and the fact that several people were already on fire suggested they had stopped performing music and started fighting over who got the next song.

The fires were probably harmless. Probably…

Multiple layers of barriers separated the festivities from mundane Kyoto. Any uninvited human approaching the supernatural district would remember an urgent reason to turn down another street.

Those were only the concealment wards. Beneath them lay enough overlapping defensive magic to give even me a headache when I examined it too closely.

Even Ophis or Great Red would have needed to make a serious effort to force their way through tonight.

Everywhere I looked, worlds collided in ways that should have been impossible.

Nords drank with krogan. Yokai children chased Palicoes between the tables. Carian knights compared weapons with Konoha shinobi. Devils negotiated trade agreements with Asari diplomats. Fairy Tail mages challenged Tempest’s ogres to drinking contests. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents attempted to remain professional like they weren’t studying everything.

A Palico ran past me carrying an entire roasted chicken above its head.

Three cooks chased after it.

I considered helping them.

Enri caught me considering it. She planted herself in front of the central cooking pavilion with her hands on her hips and an expression that would have made several demon kings reconsider their choices. “You are not working at your own wedding reception.”

I lifted both hands despite not having crossed the kitchen boundary yet. “I was only checking whether they needed help.”

She had become terrifying. I was so proud of her.

The formal portion of the reception had ended two hours earlier. Mom had presented Ranni as my wife before the assembled factions. Rennala had formally recognized the union between Caria and Kyoto. Michael offered a blessing. Sirzechs gave a speech about cooperation between worlds. Azazel made an inappropriate joke and was struck in the back of the head by Gabriel.

Kunou had scattered flowers from baskets carried by all nine tails. Most of the flowers landed on the guests. One basket landed on Ainz.

Ranni and I had danced beneath an artificial full moon while the Dark Moon Greatsword hovered beside us. I had expected the sword to remain solemn and dignified.

Instead, it pulsed every time I stepped on the hem of Ranni’s dress.

I suspected it had been laughing at me.

After the formal dance, I managed to keep my wife beside me for almost twenty minutes.

Then the women in my life organized.

Rias approached first, an elegant crimson dress hugging her body while amusement shone in her eyes. She linked one arm through one of Ranni’s upper arms before I understood what was happening. “We need to borrow your wife!”

I tightened one tail around Ranni’s waist. “No… I just got her…”

Aela claimed Ranni’s other upper arm while wearing a green dress that left most of her muscular back exposed. “That was not a request.”

Shepard and Alice appeared behind them. Naruko and Kushina closed in from the right. Sansa and Catelyn approached from the left. Irene followed with Erza, while Hela, Frigga, Cortana, and Milim waited near the pavilion where Mom had arranged enough chairs for a tribunal.

Mom stood in the center of the conspiracy, smiling like the entire operation had been her idea.

It probably had been.

Ranni tried to preserve the dignity of a Lunar Princess as the women began pulling her away. Her upper hands remained folded calmly, while one lower hand clung to my sleeve and the other disappeared into the fur of the tail around her waist. “I shall return to thee shortly, mine husband. If not… make haste and rescue me.”

I reluctantly loosened my tail. “Good luck.”

Hela curled an arm around Ranni’s waist and gave me a predatory smile. “We may keep her for several hours. There is a lot to discuss...”

I felt Ranni’s alarm through our bond. I also felt her curiosity, amusement, and a warmth that grew as she looked at the women surrounding her.

Ranni had spent centuries alone. Now she was being dragged into a pavilion by a group of women who intended to interrogate her, tease her, welcome her, and probably ask increasingly personal questions about our still-delayed wedding night.

She was embarrassed. She was also happy.

That made it slightly easier to watch them carry her away. Slightly…

Through the crowd, I occasionally caught glimpses of moonlight-white silk and blue skin. Ranni would look toward me whenever my attention found her. Our bond carried affection, amusement, and occasional bursts of mortification that told me the questions had become invasive.

At one point, every woman in the pavilion looked toward me simultaneously.

I decided I did not want to know what they were discussing.

Wrex found me before I could reconsider the kitchens. The massive krogan grabbed my shoulder, turned me around, and steered me toward a reinforced pavilion near the edge of the western garden.

My older male friends had claimed a round table beneath an acoustic ward that reduced the surrounding celebration to a manageable hum.

Ainz sat in his human form with a cup of Kappa sake held carefully between both hands. Rimuru occupied the chair beside him, nursing a drink that he kept refilling from a barrel he had stolen all to himself. Agnar sat across from them with his boots planted wide and a tankard of Nordic mead in front of him.

Reigen had discovered an expensive bottle of Devil whiskey he could never have afforded himself.

The Master Chief… AKA John with an ‘h’ sat beside him in a plain black shirt, slowly drinking a beer while maintaining the posture of someone attending a military briefing. 

Jon ‘Snow’ occupied the next chair with a cup of dark wine. 

Wrex dropped into the largest seat at the table, which creaked ominously beneath his weight.

I lowered myself into the remaining chair and arranged my tails behind me. The pavilion had been designed with enough space to accommodate them, but three still curled around the sides of my seat.

Ainz rolled the sake around his cup and watched Ranni disappear deeper into the women’s pavilion. “I still cannot believe you were the first of us to actually make it official.”

Agnar stopped with his tankard halfway to his mouth. “I am sitting right here, no-longer-bone-man. I have been married for years.”

Ainz inclined his head toward the Dragonborn without surrendering his point. “You arrived married. That is a preexisting condition and does not count.”

Agnar considered that distinction with the grave concentration of a man who had already consumed enough mead to impair lesser species. “I dislike your logic, but I cannot immediately defeat it.”

Rimuru leaned back in his chair and grinned at me. “Honestly, I thought Haru would keep expanding his harem forever without ever finishing the marriage quest.”

My ears twitched.

Rimuru began counting on his fingers. “Every time he goes somewhere, he comes back with a new world, a title, a political crisis, or a beautiful woman. Sometimes he brings back all four.”

I folded my arms and attempted to look offended. My tails ruined the effect by curling toward Ranni’s distant presence. “I never planned to have such a crowded life. I just kept meeting women who mattered to me.”

The table quieted.

I rubbed the back of my neck as heat reached my ears. “I never planned to have a heart this full either. They just kept finding places in it.”

Ainz became very still.

Reigen stared at me over his glass.

Jon’s eyebrows rose.

Even Master Chief ‘John’ looked faintly impressed.

Wrex broke the silence with a low rumble that might have been a laugh.

Ainz leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “That was a remarkably good line. I should remember it...”

Rimuru nearly inhaled his drink. He coughed into one hand before pointing urgently at Ainz with the other. “Do not say that to Albedo and Shalltear.”

Ainz’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

Rimuru set down his cup and began ticking off the likely consequences. “Because they’ll ask who else has been finding places in your heart, which one of them has the biggest place, and whether they can murder the hypothetical competition…”

Ainz’s expression slowly collapsed.

Wrex released a gravelly laugh and slapped one hand against the table. “Any romantic line that can start a domestic war is worth remembering!”

Ainz sank farther into his chair. “The two women I am involved with are both yanderes. I rule an underground kingdom filled with monsters capable of destroying nations, yet the most dangerous part of my life is deciding who to sit next to at breakfast…”

Rimuru looked across the grounds toward Shion, who was still glaring at the barrier separating her from the Tempest cooking station. “Shion has the same energy, and we are not even officially together. Somehow, that makes it worse.”

Ainz lifted his cup in weary solidarity. “Albedo once interpreted a woman bowing to me as attempted seduction.”

Rimuru raised his drink to meet Ainz’s. “Shion threatened a diplomat because she thought his handshake lasted too long.”

Ainz touched his cup against Rimuru’s. “Shalltear challenged Albedo to a duel over which of them had breathed the same air as me first that morning.”

Rimuru’s expression became haunted. “Shuna always smiles before she gets angry. How am I supposed to know if she is happy or upset!?”

Ainz froze.

Rimuru shuddered.

Neither man needed to explain further…

Reigen slammed his glass onto the table hard enough to spill expensive whiskey across his fingers. “Fuck every last one of you! I cannot get one woman to agree to a second date, and I have to sit here listening to Demon Lords complain that too many beautiful women want them!”

I rested one elbow on the table and looked at him. “Maybe stop scamming people and get a real job… I heard women like men with those…”

Reigen drew himself up with wounded professional pride. “The Spirits and Such Consultation Office IS a real job!”

I pointed toward him with one tail. “You charged a woman twenty thousand yen to purify her apartment with table salt…”

Reigen spread his hands as if the distinction should have been obvious. “Premium table salt… And she only paid me half anyway…”

Agnar struck me between the shoulder blades hard enough to push me halfway across the table. Several tails caught the edge and prevented me from landing in Rimuru’s drink.

Agnar lifted his tankard high, spilling mead over one hand. “Ignore the lonely fraud. Tonight, Haru joins the sacred brotherhood of married men!”

Reigen glared at him. “I hope your wife kills you.”

Agnar placed one hand over his heart. “My Serana would never kill me.” Agnar dragged his chair closer to mine and threw one massive arm around my shoulders. “You will now learn the joys and terrors of having a lady wife.”

I glanced toward Ranni. She was seated between Aela and Rias while Cortana projected something above the table. Whatever the image showed caused Ranni to cover her face with two hands while using the other two to gesture indignantly.

Our bond carried a wave of mortified affection.

I returned my attention to Agnar. “I’m beginning to suspect the terrors started before the wedding.”

Agnar shook me within the circle of his arm. “A wife is a shield at your back, a fire in your hall, and the voice that tells you when you are about to do something exceptionally stupid.”

Jon studied the Dragonborn over the rim of his cup. “How often does Serana need to use that voice?”

Agnar’s eyes became unfocused as he attempted to count. “Most days...”

Wrex barked a laugh.

Agnar released me and stared into his mead with drunken affection. “Serana stood beside me against dragons, vampires, gods, armies, and things I still cannot name. She walked into the Soul Cairn with me. She followed me into forgotten ruins filled with traps and dead men. She has saved my life more times than any bard could fit into one song.” His expression softened. Agnar rested both forearms on the table. “She never looks at me and sees only the Dragonborn. When the songs stop and the armor comes off, she remembers I am only Agnar. She knows when I need someone beside me, and she knows when I need silence. She can make a frozen cave feel like home merely by sitting near the fire.”

Nobody interrupted him.

Even Reigen’s expression lost some of its bitterness.

Agnar smiled into his tankard. “She is clever, brave, beautiful, and possessed of the driest wit in all of Skyrim. When every dragon is slain and every quest is finished, she is the woman I want beside me.”

I felt myself smile.

Those were the sort of marriages I wanted with the women I loved. 

Agnar took another long drink. Then he ruined it. Agnar wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. “SHE ALSO NAGS TOO MUCH!”

Uh oh… I think he’s had too much to drink. 

Also, I smelled the faint trace of blood-wine approaching from behind Agnar. 

Serana was approaching wasn’t she…?

Agnar continued without noticing. “A man leaves one blood-covered suit of armor across a chair, and suddenly there must be a discussion about respecting furniture!”

I lifted one tail and pointed behind him.

Agnar squinted at the tail. “...Yes, the furniture was expensive. That is not the point!”

Rimuru stopped drinking and widened his eyes at Agnar. He tried to signal him to but Agnar took it as Rimuru being interested in the story.

Agnar mistook the expression for sympathy. “...Exactly! Thank you!”

Ainz shifted his gaze meaningfully over Agnar’s shoulder. It went the same way.

Agnar leaned toward him next. “...You understand, don’t you? Women enjoy explaining where things belong too often!”

Reigen drew one finger across his throat. 

Agnar nodded eagerly. “...Yes! The troll still had part of its throat attached. That does not mean the skull could not be displayed!”

John looked past Agnar toward Serana and then deliberately moved his chair… several inches away.

Jon followed his example.

Agnar spread both hands. “She objects when I bring dragon bones into the bedroom. She says a tavern is not an appropriate place to store enchanted axes. She insists that I bathe after fighting trolls. She becomes annoyed when I accept quests without first asking whether the mysterious stranger is a Daedric cultist!”

Serana stopped directly behind him. She held two goblets of dark red wine. Her beautiful pale face started to twist with annoyance…

I flattened my ears and pointed three tails at her. Subtle warnings were dead at this point. Agnar still didn’t notice…

Wrex covered his mouth with one enormous hand. His shoulders shook with attempted silent laughter. That was a good effort for a Krogan…

Agnar struck one fist against his chest. “A husband should be able to speak openly without fearing his wife!”

Serana placed one cool hand on his shoulder. “...Please continue, my love. I was especially interested in the section about how I nag you for attempting to wrestle dragons while drunk.”

Agnar stopped breathing.

His eyes slowly moved toward the hand resting on his shoulder. The color drained from his face. “...My beloved wife. How long have you been standing there?”

Serana offered one goblet to me before taking Agnar’s tankard from his suddenly unresisting hand. “Long enough to hear that I make frozen caves feel like home.”

Agnar smiled hopefully. “That was a… good… part?”

Serana’s lips curved into a small smile. “I also heard the parts about the armor, dragon bones, tavern axes, trolls, cultists, and the skull currently decomposing on our dining table.” Serana’s red eyes narrowed. 

Agnar glanced toward the rest of us for support.

Every man at the table looked away.

Wrex made no attempt to conceal his laughter at this point.

Agnar stared at us in betrayal. “Cowards. Every one of you!”

Jon lifted his cup and avoided eye contact. “I have died once already. I see no reason to repeat the experience for your troll skull.”

John gave Agnar a solemn nod. “Strategic withdrawal is appropriate when the victory becomes impossible to achieve.”

Reigen picked up the bottle of Devil whiskey and held it protectively against his chest. “I do not know either of you well enough to become involved in this.”

Ainz raised both hands. “My own domestic situation is already unstable.”

Rimuru grinned and held up his mug. “We support you emotionally… from a safe distance.”

Serana allowed Agnar to sit in terrified silence for several long seconds. Her cool fingers tightened around his ear with deceptive gentleness. “Come along, my love.”

Agnar winced as Serana pulled him out of his chair. The enormous Nord rose immediately, one hand hovering near hers without quite daring to remove it. “Perhaps we could discuss this like reasonable married adults…?”

Serana maintained her grip on his ear. “We are going to discuss it...”

Agnar twisted enough to look back at the table, his expression filled with desperation. “Brothers! Will none of you speak in my defense?” Agnar glared at all of us as Serana dragged him away by the ear. The legendary Dragonborn, slayer of Alduin and savior of Skyrim, stumbled obediently behind his considerably smaller wife while attempting to protect the last fragments of his dignity.

The sacred brotherhood of married men had failed its first practical test…

I watched Serana pull Agnar into the crowd before turning toward the women’s pavilion. Through the bond connecting me to Ranni, I felt another burst of mortification followed by warm amusement.

Whatever questions the women were asking had apparently become even more invasive.

That was enough of a reason to retrieve my wife.

The increasingly urgent desire to finally get her alone was another.

I finished the wine Serana had given me and stood. Three tails uncurled from around my chair while the others stretched behind me. “I should probably rescue Ranni before they convince her to flee back to the moon.”

John set down his beer and met my eyes. “Congratulations, Haru.” The simple sincerity of it stopped me for a moment.

I inclined my head toward him. “Thanks, Chief.”

Wrex raised his tankard high enough to splash mead across the table. “Go claim your bride, foxman!”

Several people in the surrounding pavilions turned to look at us.

My ears twitched and felt hot. I decided to leave before Wrex provided the entire reception with a more detailed announcement.

The celebration had grown even less organized while I sat with the others. A line of Carian knights attempted a traditional dance beside several Asari diplomats. Two Nords carried an unconscious Fairy Tail mage between them while arguing over whether dropping him into a fountain counted as medical treatment. A group of goblins from Tempest had discovered Citadel dance music and were moving with enough enthusiasm to threaten the structural integrity of the platform beneath them.

Three tengu guards chased the chicken-stealing Palico past me. The Palico no longer carried one roasted chicken. It carried two. I almost respected the ambition.

Guests called congratulations as I passed. Some bowed. Others raised their cups. 

Gabriel descended from one of the hovering walkways and wrapped both arms around me. Her white wings curled forward, briefly shielding us from the crowd. “Your happiness is beautiful, Haru. I hope you and Ranni share many centuries of love—and perhaps many adorable blue fox babies.”

My feet nearly tangled beneath me.

Gabriel released me with an innocent smile that suggested she had no idea what she had done. 

She probably didn’t.

Councilor Tevos intercepted me several steps later. She held a delicate glass of wine in one hand, her elegant gown blending Asari tailoring with silver lunar embroidery. “On behalf of the Citadel—and personally—allow me to congratulate you on your marriage and the formal union of Kyoto and Caria.”

Harry and Hermione stood near a table covered in enchanted desserts. Harry’s formal robes had already acquired several stains, while Hermione held a notebook she was clearly pretending not to use.

Harry raised a butterbeer toward me and grinned. “Congratulations. This is already better than the Yule Ball!”

Hermione elbowed him before offering me a sincere smile. “What Harry means is that we’re happy for both of you. I’ve never seen so many magical traditions combined in one ceremony.”

Harry rubbed his side and frowned at his cheeky girlfriend. “That was exactly what I meant, only with fewer words...”

I thanked them and continued before Hermione could ask how Carian matrimonial magic interacted with yokai soul bonds. Under normal circumstances, I might have enjoyed the discussion. Tonight, the woman connected to the other end of that bond was waiting for me.

Thor found me near the entrance to the women’s pavilion. He struck one broad hand between my shoulders with enough force to stagger a normal human. “May thy marriage produce a strong hall, worthy heirs, loyal companions, and enemies crushed beneath the feet of thy descendants!”

I looked up at him. “That became violent surprisingly quickly.”

Thor stroked his beard with complete seriousness. “It is a traditional blessing…”

I decided Asgard needed better wedding cards.

The pavilion occupied a circular garden enclosed by flowering cherry trees and silver-leafed Carian willows. Curtains of pale silk hung between the trunks, muffling the surrounding music without completely isolating the women from the celebration. Floating lights drifted beneath the branches like captive stars.

The women had arranged themselves around a collection of low tables and cushioned benches.

Ranni occupied the center.

Rennala sat on one side of her, still wearing the dark-blue dress from Caria. Mom sat on the other in a golden kimono patterned with white foxes and crimson flowers. Ranni’s moonlight-white gown glowed between them, visually joining the two royal houses more effectively than any diplomatic banner could have.

Rias and Akeno shared a couch to Mom’s right. Aela occupied the broad arm of another seat despite several empty cushions being available. Shepard and Alice sat together near the drinks. Naruko and Kushina had claimed a mound of pillows, their crimson and golden tails tangled behind them. Sansa sat beside Catelyn. Irene lounged with effortless confidence while Erza maintained the rigid posture of someone desperately pretending the conversation had not embarrassed her. Hela and Frigga shared a bottle of mead. 

Milim lay across three cushions that had never been intended to serve as a bed.

Tsunade sat near Rias with a cup of sake in one hand.

Cortana stood beside a suspended holographic projection. The image vanished the instant I entered.

That was concerning…

Ranni held a glass in one upper hand. Another rested with practiced dignity across her lap. Her lower hands betrayed her composure. One repeatedly adjusted a fold of her gown that did not need adjusting, while the other clutched the edge of her cushion. Her blue cheeks were currently violet.

I stopped. My tails stopped with me.

I had stood against Acnologia. I had torn the core out of Behemoth. I had fought Apollo, Jashin, the White Wraith, and the Elden Beast. I had watched the sky split open beneath the will of a cosmic god and thought about which part of its servant would taste best grilled.

None of that had prepared me for the combined attention of every woman I loved.

Most of them knew me very intimately. Several could identify my mood by the movement of my ears. At least three could smell embarrassment. Cortana could probably measure it. They had spent hours exchanging information, and they possessed a group chat.

Shepard leaned back against the cushions and let a slow smirk spread across her face. “You weren’t this nervous when we were staring down a Reaper.”

I glanced around the circle and felt my ears begin to lower. “A Reaper only wanted to kill me. You all have a group chat.”

Alice covered her mouth, but not quickly enough to conceal her laugh.

Sansa’s blue eyes moved between my rigid tails and heated face. Her smile became soft rather than mocking. “I think it’s rather cute.”

Catelyn looked down at her wine as color spread across her cheeks. The small smile she tried to hide suggested she agreed with her daughter for reasons she did not intend to explain publicly.

Aela watched me with the satisfied expression of a huntress observing familiar prey. Rias looked openly delighted. Akeno’s smile promised that she had already found several ways to make the situation worse. Hela raised her glass in silent acknowledgment while Frigga hid a laugh behind her hand.

Irene’s predatory amusement did nothing to help. Erza’s entire face had turned red.

Naruko and Kushina exchanged a knowing look that reminded me of precisely how little sleep I had gotten after proposing to them.

Milim rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin in both hands, watching me with wide, expectant eyes.

Cortana looked completely innocent. That made her the most suspicious person in the pavilion.

Then my attention reached Mom.

Our eyes locked.

For a single second, I remembered the ruined Carian shoreline. I remembered the look she had given me after catching my attention where it should not have been. I remembered her comment that anything deeper would require a very long conversation.

Mom’s golden eyes narrowed with recognition. She knew exactly what I had remembered. One corner of her mouth rose in a small, knowing smile.

I pushed the memory into the mental compartment labeled Absolutely Not Tonight.

That conversation was waiting somewhere in my future. It could stay there.

Tonight belonged to Ranni.

Ranni’s eyes met mine. Relief, desire, embarrassment, and affection flowed between us. Beneath all of it lay a thread of newfound happiness. The women had mortified her, interrogated her, welcomed her, and made a place for her among them.

She had spent centuries alone. Now she sat surrounded by women who would tease her without worshipping her, challenge her without trying to control her, and protect her because they had chosen to call her family.

Ranni began to rise, carefully setting her glass aside. Her upper hand extended toward me with Lunar Princess dignity.

I ignored the offered hand.

Her eyes widened as I slipped one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees. Two tails gathered the high-slit fabric of her dress before it could fall away, while a third curled around her waist.

I lifted her from the cushions.

A tiny, completely undignified “eep” escaped her lips! All four of Ranni’s arms reacted independently. Two wrapped around my neck. One gripped the front of my kimono. The fourth disappeared into the fur of the tail supporting her waist.

A much deeper violet blush flooded her face as she attempted to recover the dignity of an ancient moon goddess while being held against my chest. Her effort failed the moment my tails began wagging.

Rennala raised one eyebrow at her daughter before looking at me with unmistakable approval.

Mom leaned back and appeared entirely too pleased with herself.

Tsunade rolled the sake around her cup as her amber eyes moved over Ranni’s four arms and divine body with exaggerated medical consideration. “Don’t go breaking her, brat. I’ve repaired organs, chakra networks, and devil bodies, but a four-armed moon goddess is outside even my medical training.”

Ranni stiffened in my arms. For one heartbeat, I expected her to hide her face against my shoulder. Instead, Ranni lifted her chin. Nervousness trembled through our bond, swiftly followed by determination and a surge of desire strong enough to make my tails fluff.

Ranni met Tsunade’s eyes with the full bearing of a Lunar Princess addressing a foreign dignitary. “Thou needst not fear, Lady Tsunade. ’Tis mine husband who may require thy healing come morning.”

Silence held the pavilion for half a second. Then every woman reacted at once.

Shepard released a sharp whistle. Akeno’s laughter rang through the pavilion. Rias covered her mouth with both hands, though her shaking shoulders ruined the attempt at restraint. Naruko and Kushina cheered loudly enough to draw attention from the surrounding gardens.

Aela struck one fist against the table in approval. “That’s the spirit!”

Hela raised her goblet toward Ranni with a grin. “Break him carefully. We still require his cooking…”

Frigga closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, but her smile remained visible.

Mom looked at Ranni with the unmistakable pride of a woman whose new daughter-in-law had just passed an important test.

Ranni maintained her regal expression for nearly three seconds. Then she buried two hands against her burning face while keeping the other two securely around my neck.

I felt her mortification through our bond. I also felt the smug satisfaction beneath it. She had meant every word.

My grip around her tightened reflexively. Inside my inventory, the Dark Moon Greatsword pulsed once with cold lunar power. The damned sword was laughing at me again.

I looked around the pavilion at the cheering women and accepted that no defense I offered would improve the situation.

I turned toward the palace.

Rias lowered her hands and called after us, amusement brightening her voice. “Have fun!”

Tsunade raised her sake cup toward my retreating back. “My office opens at eight!”

I kept walking.

Ranni lowered her hands from her face and settled more comfortably against my chest. Two arms remained around my neck. One traced the embroidered collar of my kimono. The fourth slid into the fur of a tail near my waist.

The women’s laughter followed us out of the pavilion.

I had intended to leave quietly. Carrying the bride across a celebration attended by several thousand supernatural beings destroyed that possibility.

The Nords noticed first.

A roar spread through the nearest mead pavilion as dozens of tankards rose into the air. The krogan joined them by pounding fists against reinforced tables. Fairy Tail abandoned whatever argument had set three more people on fire and began cheering. Devils whistled. Carian knights struck gloved fists against their breastplates.

Someone changed the music.

A slow ceremonial melody became something faster, warmer, and considerably less dignified.

Thor stood on top of a table and raised both arms toward us. “GO FORTH, FOX PRINCE! MAY THE WALLS OF YOUR BEDROOM TREMBLE BEFORE DAWN!”

Jane Foster grabbed the back of Thor’s tunic and pulled him off the table.

I walked faster…

Ranni made a quiet sound against my chest that might have been a laugh. Two of her hands covered her face again as more guests realized why I was carrying her toward the palace.

The private corridor stretched ahead. My bedroom waited at the far end.

Ranni’s fingers moved through the fur near the base of one tail.

My step faltered.

She lifted her mouth toward my ear, her warm breath brushing the sensitive fur along its edge. “Thou art walking too slowly, mine husband...”

I stopped pretending to possess dignity.

I ran…

XXX