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Oh hello Ratalia, would you like a chapter fourrrr~?

“Master Van Dort, let’s try it again, from the top!”

Patton sighed. His legs felt sore from standing there so long. His candle was half melted now, the passage of three hours' time making it little more than a nub. He didn’t blame Logan for being so nervous, he too was shrinking under Pastor Gordswell’s harsh stare. But Logan just wasn’t able to handle the pressure. Maybe he had stage fright, or maybe he wasn’t the best with emotions. Whatever the case, Patton hoped for Logan’s sake that this torment would be over soon.

The pastor began to emphatically recite the vows, which would maybe still mean something to Patton if he hadn’t already heard them at least a hundred times.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine.”

The elderly man waved his staff around for dramatic effect.

“With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

He glared at Logan. “Let’s try it again.”

“Y-Yes sir!” Logan stammered, standing upright. “With this candle-”

He struggled to light it, the flames refusing to creep onto the wick. Patton bit his lip, knots forming in his stomach on Logan’s behalf. The murmurs of those assembled in the chapel pews seeped into both of their bones, and Logan glanced back at the crowd, eyes wide like cornered prey. Pastor Gordswell loudly cleared his throat and Patton saw that the candle had finally been lit. He smiled a bit and Logan heaved a large sigh of relief-causing the fire to go out.

The gathering erupted into disappointed groans, cut off by the pastor.

“Continue!”

Logan jumped as the doorbell rang, rumbling throughout the house. The pastor’s left eye twitched.

“Emile, go get the door.” Patton’s mother made a dismissive hand motion at the manservant, who scoffed a bit before doing as he was told.

Pastor Gordswell exhaled sharply through his nose. “Let’s just pick up from the candle bit.”

Emile scurried back into the room, holding a small calling card. Patton tilted his head at him, wordlessly asking who was there. Emile just shrugged before turning back to Patton’s parents.

“There’s a Lord Janus here to see you.”

A finely dressed man strode into the room. His coattails swirled around him, cape-like and edged with gold detailing. He held his top hat in his right hand, inspecting his well-manicured nails on his left. He was an unusual looking gentleman, an air of mystery about his figure. A yellowish birthmark took up the right side of his face, his eyes a cold, unfeeling green. He opened his mouth, showing teeth that seemed unusually sharp.

“I haven’t a head for dates,” The man said disinterestedly. “It seems I’ve arrived for the ceremony a day too early.” His voice carried no sign of apology.

“Is he from your side of the family?” Patton’s father asked, brows furrowed.

“I can’t recall,” His mother said, unconcerned. It really wasn’t surprising that she didn’t recognize this nobleman, the family was large, the members distant. Perhaps this was another one of her multitudes of nephews.

“Emile, fetch a chair for Lord Janus.”

Emile quickly grabbed a chair from the dining room and set it down for Lord Janus. He comfortably sank into it, a lazy smile on his lips. Patton felt goosebumps rise on his flesh. The man’s gaze was predatory, carrying an unfathomable hunger. Silence fell over the room, Lord Janus’s voice disrupting it. “

Do go on.”

The pastor huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Once more, Master Van Dort.”

Patton quietly lit Logan’s candle with his own.

“Yes, yes sir.” Logan stammered, holding the candle in his left hand and raising up his right.

Pastor Gordwell’s scowl deepened. “Right.”

Patton winced.

“Right.” Logan repeated with a small bit of confidence. “O-Oh! Right!” He quickly switched his candle over to his left hand, face flushing.

“With this…w-with this-”

“Hand!” The pastor slammed his staff on the floor in frustration.

“With this hand,” Logan’s focus shifted to Patton. He smiled, and Patton basked in the warmth of his gentle brown eyes as he softly took his hand, stepping with him towards the altar.

“I will-” He bumped into the table.

“Three, steps, three!”

Patton gasped at Pastor Gordwell’s raised voice, noticing the way Logan flinched back and squeezing his hand a bit in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“Can you not count, boy? Do you not wish to be married?”

“No!”

Patton’s eyes widened, taking a step back from Logan.

“You don’t?”

Logan’s own eyes widened in turn, quickly reaching out and grabbing Patton’s hands.

“No, no I-I meant I do, I do wish to be married! V-Very much!”

Patton was still reeling as the pastor lightly whacked Logan’s head with his staff.

“Pay attention! Did you even remember to bring the ring?”

“The ring?” Logan asked, rubbing his head. “Oh, yes! The ring!”

He quickly pulled the small band out of his pocket, watching in horror as it slipped between his fingers, falling onto the floor. The crowd erupted into shouts and gasps as it rolled through the aisles, away from Logan’s feet.

“Dropping the ring! It is clear this boy doesn’t want to be married!” The pastor lifted his staff to the heavens, reveling in his own melodrama.

Logan chased after the ring, leaving Patton to stand in shocked stillness as he unthinkingly reached under the edge of a noblewoman’s massive skirts to grab it. The woman gasped, the crowd erupting into appalled exclamations as he snatched the piece of jewelry. A second set of gasps erupted from the group and Patton turned around just in time to see that he had been subconsciously backing up this whole time, bumping into the altar and causing the large candle that was resting atop it to knock over and set the cloth ablaze.

The room descended into chaos as people rushed about, trying frantically to stop the fire. Patton’s feet remained frozen in place. From across the room Logan eyes locked onto his, mirroring his panic. What was he supposed to do? Get some water? Yes! A bucket, or a cup or-

The fire hissed as it died, extinguished by the red wine that poured over the flames and caused the cloth to stain a bright crimson. Lord Janus stood over the table, empty goblet still in hand. He reached over and set it on the tray Emile was still carrying as the servant watched in dumb-struck awe. The lord sighed as if this were just a minor inconvenience to him, brushing off his jacket.

Pastor Gordswell pushed past the crowd; arms raised. “Enough! This wedding cannot take place if the boy is not properly trained! Young man, learn your vows.” All eyes turned towards Logan as he scrambled for the doorknob, animalistic instincts clearly telling him to flee. He sprinted out the door, slamming it behind him.

***

Janus watched as the disgraced boy ran from his own wedding rehearsal. He flicked a piece of soot off his lapel. This truly was too easy. He glanced over at the other groom. The Everglot boy looked moments away from fainting, hands clasped over his mouth and legs shaking badly. Janus smirked, strolling over to him and casually placing an arm around his shoulders. 

"Well, he's quite the catch, isn't he?" 

The heir to the Everglot fortune made no moves to pull away as he stared at the chapel doors, lips parted. Janus's smirk widened to a grin. This really was far too easy.