Not a single one of the hundreds of guests packed into the chapel could speak up immediately.
They must have been too stunned—by the heavy doors suddenly swinging open despite being securely locked, by the woman's impossibly loud and clear voice, or by the fact that a sacred wedding had just been disrupted.
Of course, the first was thanks to the maids and servants from Sacred Salon who had agreed to help us.
The second led directly to the third—
"Do you remember Ariel Rabbit, Your Highness?!"
The former singer's booming voice reverberated through the chapel. It was a noise so commanding—and so melodious—that even those about to interject immediately fell silent.
The woman, dressed in tattered clothes, strode forward without hesitation and stood before Percival.
"Two years ago, Your Highness Percival crushed my future with a false promise of marriage, then buried me in a convent under the pretense of hiding until you could persuade His Majesty! The very same Binder Convent you sponsor!"
"Get this madwoman out of here!"
"Of course, that promise was also a lie! When I grew suspicious of the convent, I was soon kidnapped and taken to—ahhk!"
Servants rushed forward and seized Ariel, dragging her back. But Percival's moment of relief was short-lived. Ariel's weapon wasn't her limbs—it was her mouth.
"—Kidnapped! To some rural village in the east or west, I don't even know! I survived doing odd jobs!"
"Shut that wench's mouth!"
The servants reached for Ariel as she thrashed, only to yelp in pain when she bit them.
Of course, that was also part of the act.
We'd already instructed the Sacred Salon-aligned servants to pretend to restrain her while leaving her mouth free.
Only the few genuine servants and guards were left floundering.
Ariel strained her abdomen and shouted:
"The royal family must remember me! In my prime, I was a frequent guest at the palace! His Highness surely lied to His Majesty, claiming I withdrew out of shame—but that's absolutely not true! I—!"
"Enough!"
Percival hurled a candlestick at her. The flame snuffed out midair, but it was enough to momentarily silence Ariel.
"Fine, yes, I knew her! But there was no shame involved! Everyone, this is nothing but a grudge from a discarded woman daring to ruin a sacred occasion!"
"If it were just about being discarded, would I be here? He took everything from me—I have nothing left to lose, so I— Ghk!"
Percival stomped forward and clamped a hand over Ariel's mouth. The servants had no excuse to stop him now.
"Enough of your nonsense! How dare you come here without a shred of—!"
"There is proof."
A third voice echoed through the chapel.
While Ariel had drawn all eyes, a woman in nun's attire had quietly followed her in.
"Documents regarding the period Ariel was imprisoned in Binder Convent… and the 'special donations' and instructions given when she was abandoned in that western village."
Her voice was just as clear and loud. She pulled papers from her sleeve and waved them for the guests to see.
It didn't matter if they couldn't read them properly—the point was to make them believe such evidence existed.
"Your Highness must have thought we'd be grateful just for your visit last August, after so long… But not only did you abandon us, you left without a single coin of the promised—"
"No! I definitely gave the abbess—!"
"…How much did you give the abbess, Your Highness?"
Percival realized his mistake too late. His eyes wavered. But it was already over.
"How much did you give the abbess?! Not a penny—not even a scrap of bread to us— Ugh!"
"Shut up!"
The nun's mouth was covered. Now it was Ariel's turn again.
"Percival didn't just prey on countless singers—he ruined their lives! To him, marriage was just a tool to control women! That filthy bastard has no right to stand in a wedding—!"
Percival moved again—but too late.
Only after clamping a hand over Ariel's mouth did he notice the king picking up the scattered documents from the floor.
"Father, that—that's not—!"
Perhaps the king had been about to demand an explanation. Maybe he'd even considered defending Percival's pitiful excuses.
But it was too late.
"Ah—!"
The bride, Natalie, spun halfway around in a graceful swoon and collapsed spectacularly.
In the brief silence following the heroine's fall, someone shot up from the royal family's seats.
The Crown Princess.
"Call a physician! Are you all right, Miss Natalie?"
Her urgent voice might as well have been the final declaration of the wedding's end.
Maids rushed down the red carpet reserved for the bride and groom. Guests scattered to clear a path for the patient. Chaos erupted.
The Crown Princess's slightly exhilarated glance at me?
Well… that'll have to remain our little secret.
Not only the wedding, but the marriage itself was spectacularly ruined.
An inevitable outcome.
We'd planted the idea of questionable documents in the nobles' minds. A victim and a nun had testified. Percival had half-confessed his ties to Binder Convent. There was no coming back from this.
The royal family dragged Percival away by the collar. The gathered nobles dispersed—outwardly feigning concern ("What on earth just happened?"), but already preparing to turn this scandal into gossip for the next banquet.
The commoners waiting outside for the procession would spread the tale far and wide.
By then, it would be unstoppable.
Not that it mattered—most of today's revelations were true anyway. Served him right.
(The 'nun' wasn't from Binder Convent, just an old actress friend of Ariel's. But no way would that bastard remember every nun's face. We'd hired someone willing to play the part.)
The fake nun vanished after presenting the 'documents.' Even if Percival later hunted for a 'traitor' in Binder Convent, he'd only be digging his own grave.
Total cost: five coins.
I wouldn't get to make a wish at Sacred Salon this year.
But that's fine.
I didn't need to wish—I'd already achieved my goal.
Percival and Natalie Sister's marriage was completely over.
Sister had locked herself in her room for days. Occasionally, when bored, she'd even fake sobs.
In the count's tea room, Mother massaged her temples.
Leaning against the door, I nibbled on caramels and galette bretonne handed to me by maids while eavesdropping.
"Darling… Is His Highness Percival effectively finished now?"
"Binder Convent locked its doors the moment investigations began. A de facto confession. B-But that's all! His wealth and status are still—"
"Darling! That's not the point in a marriage! Do you want our daughter to be known as a tool for sweeping royal scandals under the rug?"
"Of course not!"
"His Highness's social reputation is already in the gutter. At least Natalie's is intact, but what now? Once this year passes, marriage will be even harder—"
"…What if—"
"Absolutely no second marriages, under any conditions!"
"..."
Had Father seriously considered pushing Sister into becoming someone's second wife? She'd have strangled him and tossed him out the window.
After a long sigh, their conversation shifted to practical matters.
"…Darling. At any rate, Natalie's marriage prospects with the royal family are truly over, yes?"
"Yes. Her Majesty the Queen apologized yesterday. She said the friendship between the royal family and House Redfield would remain unbroken, so there's nothing more to discuss."
"Then tell me—what about the dowry we sent before the wedding?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"How can you not know? We need it back immediately!"
"We can't just casually bring up money with the royal family! They'll return it in due time."
"Do you realize how much that was?! His Highness demanded an exorbitant sum—we worked so hard to prepare it! You know that!"
"Ugh, fine. I'll request an audience with Her Majesty first—"
"That'll take days! We need to ask now!"
"Can you just march up to His Majesty and demand money without even seeking understanding? Don't act so carefree when it's not your problem!"
Ah, still so lively.
Not that it mattered.
Her Majesty wouldn't be able to help anyway.
That money was already safely deposited into Sister's account.
The very dowry Percival had inflated to torment our family—after I'd deliberately provoked him.