As the lips of the couple met the words of the priest could still be heard.

“Husband and wife,” he said, “wife and husband, bonded.”

Bonded for eternity, in life and in death, if it ever came. Intertwined in their religion that had the groom at the centre as it's messiah, with promises and rings and gifts that only they knew of. A cat and an alchemist, coming together in a world of a thousand faiths and thousand races, swearing to each other that they would love only that person.

Forever.

So perfect and lovely, a man who was not invited, but nevertheless watched, scoffed sarcastically. Absolute waste of time, all of it.

And you moaned about them not inviting you, The kenku whose eyes through whom the man watched replied back to him in the same, telepathic way.

Vitruvion curled his lip as he lay back on the sofa where he was, some miles away in the same city, in the grand townhouse.

I did not 'moan’, Stare, he corrected her. I protest. I disliked the way that they referred to me.

Stare’s eyes glinted with amusement as she remembered the words from the invite. 'Mean god’ and 'grumpy’. She watched as Nevin and Eteri parted from one another and turned to smile at the audience watching the ceremony. Cheers abounded, praises were sung as the god of this religion and it's high priestess promised their troth. The kenku looked over to her elf companion, the elf Raevin who had been Vitruvion’s captain of the guard, but who now leant heavily on his seat. In his hand he held the oak staff that was his constant walking aid, and his half leg was being stared at by a kid.

Raevin raised his brow at her as he began to clap slowly. Briefly she nodded to him and began to clap herself, the groom and bride now united. He paused and leant to whisper to her, “commentary?” She nodded in response.

Good. It is done, Vitruvion said coldly, and she saw an image of him leaning to sit up. Now you can get back here, as you agreed.

Stare paused, her mind working. Vitruvion, this is barely the start. Just the ceremony. There is the meal, and a celebration that will go on into the evening.

I gave you permission to go to the wedding. You did, he replied. Now you can come home.

Stare sighed as she began to stand with the rest of the congregation, rising out of their seat as the jubilation rose. The elf beside her huffed as he took up his stick and began to ease himself to his single leg. His eyes glanced to her as he assessed her emotional state.

“What is it?” he asked.

The kenku muttered a reply under her breath. “He wants us to return. Now.”

Raevin blinked. “But the day has barely begun,” he frowned.

“You try saying that to him,” she hissed, “you know what he's like. Stupid over-protective idiot.”

She tried to fake happiness as the newly weds came down the aisle, smiling themselves away into bliss. Fanatics of his religion the themselves into the ground in worship, others who were friends just applauded politely. Stare and Nevin shared a look of acknowledgment as she nodded her congratulations to him, and Raevin replied.

“If you can hear me, sir,” he whispered in Stare's ear hole, straight to Vitruvion, “then I would ask you consider that we have been safe thus far. There are no reported vagabonds as yet.”

Nothing is ever safe, Vitruvion growled.

It was a true enough fact. Stare had to admit it, with all they had gone through. From little more than a year ago, when she had first been kidnapped by the very man she stood next to, all for Vitruvion's sexual pleasure, to now, where she was head of the same Vitruvion's vast commercial empire. They had gone from her being nothing more than a slave, to now their current agreement. They had battled his truly evil brother time and time again, as bit by bit the world had been torn from Vitruvion. Now Vitruvion was determined to keep Stare as close and as 'safe’ as he dared. The wedding had been a point of contention, mainly because he had strictly not been invited, but this was where they stood.

We will come back after half an hour at the meal, Stare said softly to him. I promise.

He was silent for a moment, his piercing blue eyes haunting her mind. Steadily she kept herself watching the couple weave their way down to the end of the aisle. Hands clasped before her she waited for his reply, knowing that if anyone could persuade him, it was her. Her, in all her glory and gentle spirit.

Very well, dearest, he said with a sigh. Very well.