Day Two-Fifty-Four, Part One: Pre-Wedding Jitters

No workers.

No cooks.

A bunch of nobles, with their few remaining attendants.

Three guards, one of them part of the ceremony.

And a small legion of stony-faced Omega Corpsers. They come closer to the 'corpse' part of that name by the day.

Yep, that's Castle WeddingBells.

The streets are vacant. The vast, VAST majority of commoners are long gone, having either left in the mass exodus yesterday or sneaked out during the night. Libby and I are the only people in our row of houses, now. It's a lonely walk to work.

The castle won't be lonely for long, though. I heard from Bernard - yes, I've been reduced to talking to BERNARD, of all people - that the king has hired a band of mercenaries. They're going to… 'assemble' the wedding. Make the food, bake the big cake, set up all the decorations… you name it.

Mercenaries. Probably some of the same guys who tried to INVADE us last month. Creating a wedding. Lords above, King Jeffrey really is desperate to get his son married.

Which, I must admit, comments on his tenacity. He's obsessed with making this wedding work. Cedric, Bernard and I all went to a meeting with Jeffrey (alongside the Omega Corps, damn their souls, not a SINGLE ONE has deserted), and the whole time he went ON and ON about the wedding. It has to be 'perfect'. If it ain't perfect, it ain't his son's wedding. His hopes better not be too high, 'cause swordsmen and women don't make the best caterers.

The ceremony is tonight. I have to spend the day getting ready. Have to force Libby into it, too. She's been in bed all week, and a lot more than usual in the past month. I mean, I know she LIKES to sleep, but… should I be worried? When she's awake she seems fine…

I'll get back to you, diary. You're comin' with me tonight, slipped under my stupid dress frock. Whatever it is. I don't wanna leave you alone in this house.

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Father of the Bride