Wolf of the Blood Moon - Book 6 - Chapter 67 (Patreon)

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Don't mind this fluff. It's so that free readers can't read half the chapter.

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Scarlet

"Arthur Barnes, do you take Arabellia Silvester to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?" the Guardian and priest in charge of the Holy Relic Association that happens to also take on wedding reception jobs since religion died out asks from his place at the front of the large hall within the Demon King’s Palace. The man looks every bit the priest, albeit with some armor thrown in since he’s wearing fancy looking white and gray robes with a book in his hand.

“I do,” Arthur says with a smile on his face while gazing lovingly into Belle’s eyes.

The Guardian priest guy turns his attention towards Belle as he asks, "Arabellia Silvester, do you take Arthur Barnes to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?"

She smiles so widely that I have to wonder if it’s straining the muscles in her face as she answers, “I do.”

“Then, once again, I profess you husband and wife,” the priestly Guardian declares, the man having been the one who officiated their official marriage the last time as well. “You may now kiss-” Belle rushes forward to kiss Arthur, making the priest blink as he trails off the ending. “…the bride…” He scratches his head for a moment and tilts it a little. “Or the groom, I guess?”

Laughter fills the large hall as humans and demons alike applaud and cheer for the couple.

Even I find myself chuckling a bit as I clap.

Then, after the ceremony itself, we all move on to the wedding reception afterwards. But I still find myself stuck in my own head thinking about my current dilemma.

So I don’t talk all that much.

Not that I was the chattiest person in the first place.

I glance at my reflection in a window as I approach one of the balconies, finding myself to be wearing a very beautiful red and black dress. One that goes all the way down to my ankles, with some ruffles here and there, and my shoulders being largely exposed.

Overall, it looks rather nice. And I can’t help but notice the attention I’m getting from people.

Now whether that’s for my current appearance, or the fact that everyone at this point considers me a goddess, I’m not sure.

Also not sure which I’d prefer.

But regardless, after grabbing some wine – the stuff no longer having even the slightest bit of affect on me anymore – I walk to the edge of the railing and look out at the blood moon hanging high in the sky. Something that I’ve realized is normal nowadays wherever I am.

As if my mere presence alone turns the moon crimson for whatever planet I’m currently on.

It’s rather weird.

I rest my elbow on the railing with my cheek in the palm of my hand, and my other hand just dangling over the edge holding the glass of wine.

“Are you still worried about it?” I hear Gramps suddenly ask as he approaches me. But I don’t turn my head to look at him as I nod.

“I just can’t get it out of my head,” I answer before raising my glass to my lips and taking a sip.

He stops at the edge of the railing beside me. Then we both fall silent for a few minutes as the rest of the people at the wedding reception go about their partying.

Eventually I ask while swirling around the wine in my glass, “What would you do in my situation? If you didn’t have Tartarus to look over, I mean.”

The Demon King doesn’t say anything for several seconds, and when he does, I can tell he sounds a little distant, “I would just do whatever. Follow whatever random whims I felt like. And not think about it too much, lest I get trapped in my own head and it gets worse.”

I blink in surprise before turning to Gramps, finding him staring out at the crimson moon with a sad smile on his face. One that makes me instantly understand what he’s thinking about.

Or who he’s thinking about, to be more exact.

He’s thinking about his late wife.

My grandmother.

I turn to look out at the moon as well.

Right. I’m not the only one with a dark beginning.

“Say,” I blurt out after another few minutes of silence, “what was she like? My grandmother, I mean.”

I see Gramps glancing at me with surprise in the corner of my eyes, but I don’t meet his gaze. Then he turns to look down at his hand, the man clenching and unclenching it a couple times.

“She was a wonderful woman,” he eventually answers with a faint smile stretching across his face. “She’d always get in trouble, going out to wander amongst the citizens whenever she could get away from her official duties. Even when we were at war, or when she was pregnant.” I see tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he continues. “She was kind and would always go out of her way to help everyone.” He closes his eyes as a dark look replaces the happiness. “Unlike me…”

Silence fills the air between us again with just the noise of the reception hall behind us.

“Hmm,” I hum while turning to focus on the moon again.

A few more minutes pass before I finally say, “She sounds like a great grandmother.”

He nods his head with a smile and more tears, but no words.

And we both fall quiet again.

So… just do what I want to do when I want to do it… it sounds so simple, but… would it really be so easy?