Planning was harder and longer than normal. They had to send out invites — though Elvira was sure that they didn't need many as it was for family and friends. Her dress had to be tailored, and constantly so — the baby was growing quickly and would be there in a matter of months. Loki had to get his own suit tailored, and Elvira knew he was lucky enough to not have it constantly adjusted.

The day couldn't come quick enough.

It was a warm August afternoon, and finally, after four months of planning, it was here. Elvira stood before her mirror, quickly adjusting her dress, which was pale blue and fell around her feet. A long, translucent train fell behind her, partially concealed by her back.

The dress was still a bit tight, but not uncomfortably so. It would only be a few hours, and then she could change into a loose nightgown and wander about the house with nobody to bother her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the door open. Anticipating it to be Loki, she whirled around, only to find that it was her mother.

“Oh, I thought he had returned already.”

Her mother paced up to her and straightened the train of Elvira's dress. “What did you send him out for, anyway?”

“Father sent him out a few hours ago. He found that we were a few chairs short and sent him out to get some.” Elvira fixed her dress. “Did you send Johann out to find him?”

“No, not — do you need help?” Her mother walked up to stand next to her. “Or is it... just the baby again?”

“No, no. It's fine. I'm just worried.”

“Did you think he'd be back by now, since the guests are all arriving?”

“Yeah, it's just...” Elvira smiled and turned to face her mother. “I think we should see if there's something Father needs with the guests or the food or something.”

She gathered the train of her dress in her hands and headed toward the door, only to be stopped by her mother as she was leaving.

“You go check on the guests. I'll check on the food.”

Elvira pulled a face in protest. She knew why her mother was making her do this specifically. There was a thing set in place that, until the baby was born, she wasn't allowed to venture into the kitchen by herself. Whether it be for her absurd cravings or the fear of hurting herself, Elvira didn't know.

“Right, then.” Elvira opened the door and stepped outside. She dropped the train of her dress. “Guests.”

“Oh, El. Didn't expect to see you out here this ear —”

Elvira dragged her father aside as he was greeting two new guests. He only protested with a hand wave and a nervous smile.

“What do you need, honey?” He straightened his collar, clearly nervous. His forehead was already reached with sweat. “Is it Loki again? Has he not returned?”

“Exactly. Have you sent Johann out yet?”

“I just did, my dear. He should be back any minute now, if I am correct?” He turned back to one of the guests, an older man with long black hair.

He wasn't staring at her, but she could feel his amber gaze burning upon her father.

“President Enmilia. I'm glad you could take up the invitation.”

The President only smiled, but it was a cold smile that Elvira found to be crossing his lips. He spoke something incomprehensible to Elvira's father and bowed his head.

“Lear,” Enmilia turned to a younger man — a vaguely familiar man — and urged him on. “We best prepare.”

She knew the language the President was speaking to the younger man. She'd learned it in university before she left. She knew who else spoke it.

Her friend.

Before she could open her mouth, however, Enmilia had dragged Lear away down the corridor. The young man was staring back at her with curious eyes.

She smiled at him, and he waved back nervously before he turned around and accepted his fate.

Now all she had to do was wait for Johann to return and the events could commence... But before that — and she sighed with indignation at the thought — she had to tell her mother about the guests.

“Yes, I know the President is here, no I didn't know Fenris invi- El, have they found Loki yet?”

“Father said he'd be here in a few moments, so... I think he'll be fine, but...” She played with her hair in worry as fear rose in her belly. There came that rising anxiety that he had taken his chance, that he'd finally left her after so many months of being together.

It was fine. She could have this baby and raise it on her own. She didn't need Loki...

But there was still a downside. All this planning. Her family had spent so much on preparing. They'd kept everything in mind about her, kept both hers and Loki's interests in mind.

Somehow she knew that Loki wouldn't run off like that, not without telling her about it first.

“El, I know you're worried, and that's alright.” Her mother bent toward her and cupped Elvira's cheeks in her hands. “This won't be all for naught.”

Elvira sniffed, attempting to hide whatever she was feeling — it was an array of emotions, she knew, and she couldn't properly break down if she didn't know which emotion she was feeling.

“We can... We can find —”

“No,” Elvira scrunched up her face. “Just, no.”

She knew what her mother was doing. It didn't have to come to that... Just not yet. Something needed to happen in her own time for once... for —

“Could someone get me a table or something?” Her thoughts shattered. She whirled around to find Johann in the hallway, carrying something in his arms. It was limp like a ragdoll, and vaguely human-shaped.

Her heart dropped into her stomach when she realized who it was.

“Loki.”

Her mother placed her hand on Elvira's shoulder for hardly a second before her footsteps hurried away deeper into the hallway.

Not even a moment later, metal began shrieking across the floor. Johann hurried behind her as fast as humanly possible, and Elvira whipped around as her mother dropped the table and raced after the butler.

Loki was so still, so pale. No breath of his stirred the air, no twitch of movement shown in his limbs. Crusts of drying blood speckled his face.

He'd been gone for too long.

Elvira cautiously approached, waiting for it to be a joke, waiting for him to jump up and surprise her.

But no, this was no joke. This was some twisted, spiraled reality that she didn't like and couldn't get over.

She grabbed onto the lapels of his jacket and buried her face in his chest. There, she didn't really care if there was blood, but rather the fact that he was gone and all her time was wasted on her and the stupid, simple mistake she made in university.

“Is there... Is there something we could do?” The voice was not her mother's, nor Johann's, but rather that familiar cold, aged voice that belonged only to the President. “We can't all just... usher everyone out and go on with our day.”

Elvira lifted her head from Loki's body and looked over her shoulder.

The President was standing there, his jacket folder back and his hands in his pockets. Drifting silently and shyly around him was his son. Now and again, the young man would glance at her, but then his gaze would drift back to his feet; he would play with his collar every few seconds or so, as though itching for something to say.

She turned around and pointed at him. “What is it?”

“I wasn't saying anything,” Lear muttered. “Maybe I —”

“I would find it suitable,” The President shoved Lear in front of him before the young man could finish. “If we can continue the ceremony as planned.”

What the hell is this guy thinking? Elvira covered her mouth as she grimaced. Her thought was contradicted with a sudden, I can’t have my child be a bastard, can I? It doesn’t feel right.

“I can’t marry a man I just met.” The words came spilling out before she could control them. “I can’t…” She shot a glance back at Loki’s body. “Not this soon after…”

She grimaced, staring down at her belly. Her thoughts whirled, conflicting with one another in an endless mental war. After another glance at Loki, she nodded. “Fine. Go through with it. But there’s no promise.”

“Do I... do I have a say in this?” Lear pointed at himself and began stuttering. His cheeks were covered with a bright pink blush that only seemed to be noticed by Elvira. He paused, sighed, and muttered, “I - I guess not, then.”

A hushed tension crowded the room. Nobody wanted to break it, for fear of saying something wrong.

It was almost sudden that Elvira's mother clapped her hands together and addressed Johann.

“You figure out what to do with Loki. I'll...” She hesitated for a moment — Elvira could imagine a grimaced smile upon her face. “I'll get things ready.”

Her footsteps hurried toward Elvira, ushering her down the hall away from Loki.

From behind her, Elvira could hear a gruff snort from the President, followed by a brief help from Lear. The young man's hurried footsteps rushed up to join Elvira, and, when they matched pace, he smiled sheepishly at her.

Elvira had no reply, crossing her arms as she walked.

Though she knew that this wedding was for the best — rushed as it may be. She didn't like it, and clearly, nor did Lear.

But this was in the child's best interest, not hers or Lear's. Nobody wanted a bastard child from an unmarried woman of high society. It just wasn't right, especially in her eyes.

Yet at the end of the day, this was all just a wedding, and whether or not society cared… didn’t really matter in the end.