A Week Later...

You sit in a wooden chair in the sunshine, staring out at the vast sight ahead of you. It's a grand wedding, with a huge seating arrangement for your guests, a large chocolate cake and various other pastries, sweets, wines, beers, whiskeys and other drinks and snacks on a large table, and a small little altar-like area for you to actually get married. Of the actual guests, they're made up of your various lieutenants and higher-ranking soldiers, alongside a handful of actual officials who you're trying to negotiate with. Orc chieftains, mercenary captains and bandit leaders you hope to sway to your cause. Taylor didn't have anyone to bring or invite, leaving her guests as a handful of undead who she dressed up to act as walking decorations.

Your troops seem split up. Most are off-duty, with the uncaring undead acting as guards. One group of mostly bandits feast and drink at the various tables, while the other comprised mostly of Orcs are busy wrestling in the mud, drunk off their heads.

You lean back, a bottle of spiced wine in your hand which you bring to your lips, taking a long gulp. You bring the turkey leg in your other hand, taking a huge bite-sized chunk out of it as you chew and swallow. You pause, looking at the bunch of wildflowers in a crystal vase to your side. You slowly run a hand down your celebatory tunic, dusting the crumbs off it as you sigh in boredom.

"Well, this is boring," Lilith says. "Not a single orgy in sight. Let's go do something."

You nod, standing, as you continue looking around. You pause, genuinely wondering how you feel about this grand affair.