The palace of Nacrifa had survived wars.
Assassinations.
Blood rituals.
Political betrayals.
Ancient vampire rebellions.
Even abyssal catastrophes.
But nothing—
absolutely nothing—
had ever prepared the royal palace for wedding planning.
Especially not a wedding involving:
One emotionally unstable half-demon prince.
One terrifyingly calm future queen.
Two demon princes with superiority complexes.
A werewolf who kept eating the decorative flowers.
A magical being threatening violence over seating arrangements.
And an overly dramatic wedding planner who looked one inconvenience away from spiritual collapse.
By sunrise—
the palace was already suffering.
"THAT IS NOT A CENTERPIECE!"
The scream echoed across the grand ceremonial hall violently.
Several maids jumped.
One servant nearly dropped an entire tray of crystal goblets.
At the center of the chaos stood Madam Celestine.
The wedding planner.
Again.
