Prince, 100

Perfection Isn’t Too Much to Expect on Your Long Awaited Day

Possibly the most anticipated chapter of all time, and also chapter 1200 of the whole series! Enjoy the wedding!

Ao3 Link

It was a good day to get married.

The weather was nice, everyone looked perfect, the church was packed, and Franz’s sister had gotten here just an hour ago.

“We can talk more about me later,” Dahlia told Franz, helping him fix his makeup. “It’s literally your wedding day, stop asking how I am.”

“But I missed your wedding day,” Franz protested, letting her fix him because she was better at it than he was. Frederick was watching carefully, applying some makeup of his own as he did. Silas was straightening everyone’s clothes. “We could talk about…”

“We could talk about how you’re getting married in a half hour, yes,” Dahlia agreed. She’d already told him that she was ending Hans’s regency this summer and that he no longer had any real control over her. It was like he’d completely stepped back when she’d been made queen. Maybe Franz had been wrong about him.

Franz sighed, because even if it hadn’t happened in over a year, he knew when Dahlia had him beat. “You weren’t supposed to get older and more competent,” he complained. “I explicitly requested that you all stay young and adorable forever when I left home.”

Dahlia punched him in the back. “I’m still adorable.”

“Yes, my queen.”

“Why Dayya is queem?” Donny asked, from Jacob’s lap.

“Because I’m the smartest,” Dahlia told him, not missing a beat.

“Oh. I’s count to ten! I can be queem imstead?”

Dahlia went over and picked him up, staggering a little. Franz understood. Donovan had gotten bigger lately. “Maybe someday when you know what a queen actually is, okay?”

“Also once you stop forgetting eight,” Jacob said gently.


“Careful,” said Flora. “He’s been getting much better at remembering things. He’s going to hold you to that.”

Dahlia touched Donny’s nose. “By then I’ll be tired of being queen, trust me.”

Franz expected that was not true, but he would never say anything about that. There was a knock on the door, and Hector came in. “They’re ready,” he said.

Franz stood up, suddenly very nervous, but he tried to swallow it. “Okay,” he said, the green and purple skirt of his dress fanning out behind him satisfyingly as he did. It felt awesome, actually, and that brought a smile to his face. What was there to be nervous about when he felt this good? “Let’s go get married.”

“Okay, but only you’re getting married,” Frederick said. “Just to be clear.”

“We’ll see about that.” Franz swept to the door, because a big dress with a big skirt made sweeping easy. Hector took Franz’s arm and they went out with Franz’s family flanking him.

It was a short hallway into the nave of the church, and Franz came out of the hallway with his family, and out of the hallway on the other side came Gabrielle with hers.

She was wearing a purple and gold dress that was layers on layers of frills and lace, a huge skirt and long train behind her. Her hair was shining in the tower they’d put it in, and she was standing taller than usual in what had to be heeled shoes. The music swelled and she and Franz approached each other, smiling.

Franz offered his hand and she took it, and they turned to face the First Church of the Blessed together. Their families behind them, Franz and Gabrielle walked down the aisle hand in hand, past the rows and rows of nobles in the pews. Horns sounded, a triumphant hymn that Franz didn’t care about the title of. Someone was singing.

Everyone was standing for them, watching in silence as they proceeded down the aisle, watching their every move. And Franz wasn’t nervous anymore, because they were perfect together.

Pauline Swiftheart was standing behind the altar waiting for them, but in front of her, at the bottom of the two stairs, was Boey, smiling. He’d tried to avoid being visible in the wedding. Franz had heard absolutely none of that nonsense. Franz smiled back at him, and Boey took a hand from both Franz and Gabrielle and helped them up, standing between them but not really. Hector stood behind Franz, and Olivia behind Gabrielle. Kieran and Matthew were on Franz’s side and Susanna and Gloria on Gabrielle’s, but none of them had duties except to stand there and be supportive.

Boey stepped to the side for now, and Pauline started talking. “We have come together under the roof of the angels to create the most holy union in God’s creation,” she said, looking from Gabrielle to Franz. “Her Highness Gabrielle ven Sancte and his Highness Franz DiGorre are to be blessed in matrimony, here in the eyes of all present.”

A sermon followed, as they were wont to do. Franz listened to it with one ear, holding Gabrielle’s hands and keeping most of his attention on her. He’d had this thought that standing here just staring at her for the whole wedding would be weird. But it wasn’t. He loved her, and she was beautiful, and it wasn’t.

Then Pauline called for them to break their silence. “With that, I ask Gabrielle ven Sancte. Do you accept this man as your husband, freely and of your own God-given will?”

“Yes, I do,” Gabrielle said, nodding. She looked radiant.

Pauline nodded, turned to Franz. “And thus I ask Franz DiGorre. Do you accept this woman as your wife, freely and of your own God-given will?”

Franz couldn’t help how wide he was smiling. “Yes,” he promised. “I do.”

Pauline nodded again, more archly this time. “Then in the name of God, I ask that you exchange your vows, and your rings.”

Silas came forward with a ring for Gabrielle, which she took. “Franz. I vow to love and honour you, and to support you and your family, with everything I have. I vow to be the best queen I can for you and for our family. And I vow to protect everything we’ll build together, with every bit of strength I have. I vow to be there for you no matter what, no matter when, and I vow that I’ll always make you happy. These are my vows to you, Franz.” She put the ring on Franz’s finger.

Franz took a breath. She’d added a line there at the end that hadn’t been in what they’d practiced. Well, she wasn’t the only one who’d had that idea. “Gabrielle,” He said, as Frederick handed him the ring. “I vow to love you, unconditionally and without end, to honour you and your house and our family, with all my being. I vow to be the king Dolovai needs, for you and your kingdom and our family. I vow to support you and be what you need, and to use all my power to protect everything we’ll build together.” He smiled. “And I vow to be your ally, and your confidant, and your king, the king you deserve. I vow to love you so much you’ll be sick of me, and then to love you even more. These are my vows to you, Gabrielle.”

Boey came forward, holding an ornate purple ribbon. Flora and Donny came up too, with a big bouquet of flowers between them that they put into Gabrielle and Franz’s hands, and then Boey wrapped the ribbon around them. “In the eyes of God, all the saints and all the angels, I hold you to these vows,” said Pauline, holding her hand out. “In the name of God, and all the saints and angels, I bless your union. Gabrielle and Franz ven Sancte, by the will of God and all the saints and angels, and the entire host of heaven and the powers of the world, I pronounce you wed.”

The music came back, louder this time, and Franz and Gabrielle kissed, Boey holding them together. There was more after that, more pomp and circumstance and more words and music, and all of it was beautiful and none of it mattered. They were married.

Franz and Gabrielle ven Sancte were married, it had been a perfect day, and nothing else mattered.

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