*Swish...*
The sound of luxurious silk rustling echoed clearly throughout Oria's newly established royal suite, tailored exclusively for her new status.
Oria sat before a massive oval mirror framed in carved gold. She wore her angelic white wedding dress, cascading around her like a waterfall of pure clouds.
*My face... it's completely burning!*
Her cheeks were as red as ripe tomatoes. She tried to catch her breath, but the room was engulfed in absolute chaos. Her co-wives had gathered to finalize her preparations... in their own disaster-prone manner.
*Bleep... Bleep!*
Isabella circled Oria at breakneck speed, wielding an advanced optical-refraction scanner in her hand.
"No, no! The lighting angle here does not properly accentuate your pallor!"
Isabella complained, pulling a lock of Oria's hair and adjusting her posture.
"You must radiate like a star! We are broadcasting this wedding to the entire galaxy, girl! The monumental popularity of the Imperial Family is on the line here!"
*Snick...*
A cold, metallic sound severed Isabella's artistic enthusiasm. Veronica stood with her customary strictness, holding a precision steel ruler. She measured the edges of the wedding veil with lethal focus.
"There is a two-millimeter deviation in the lace embroidery on the right side."
Veronica spoke with her glacial, emotionless absolute zero.
"This violates the ideal structural parameters I have established... I will amputate it immediately."
*Pshhht...*
Before Veronica could move with her scissors, a mysterious, intoxicating perfume permeated the air, numbing the senses for a fleeting moment.
Layla approached from behind. Her passive-aggressive, elegant smile graced her full crimson lips as she slowly sprayed the perfume onto Oria's neck.
"Ara, ara... you look simply ravishing, dear bride."
Layla whispered, her silky voice dripping with cunning.
"This scent will ensure the Emperor has eyes for no one else tonight... and perhaps it will coerce you into confessing all your little secrets as well... who knows?"
Oria could no longer endure this suffocating siege. She waved her hands in childish panic and cried out their names.
"Veronica, Isabella, Layla! Please, that is enough!"
She squeezed her eyes shut, her shoulders trembling.
"I am suffocating from the perfume... and the dress is far too tight!"
*Fufufu...*
The Wives burst into laughter, thoroughly enjoying her adorable fluster and innocent reaction, which successfully broke the remaining tension.
---
*Tap... Tap... Tap...*
Oria's footsteps echoed against the crimson-red carpet stretching down the vast royal corridor leading to the throne room.
Her heart pounded violently, beating like tiny war drums against her chest. But what truly amplified her nerves was not the awe of the wedding itself, but the "bridesmaids" lining the aisle like a highly unorthodox honor guard. They were, of course, the other Wives.
Kaori stood adorned in her formal black kimono. Her hand rested strictly on the hilt of her blade. She nodded to Oria with the unyielding gravity of a samurai.
"Your footwork is steady."
Kaori stated, her firm tone slicing through the silence.
"Do not expose a single opening (*suki*) as you advance toward the Emperor... be as flawless as a polished blade."
*This is a wedding, Kaori, not a battlefield!* Oria thought with a strained, trembling smile.
On the opposite side, Roxy leaned against the marble wall. She flashed her customary savage grin and wiped a phantom tear from the corner of her eye.
"Ah... they grow up so fast!"
She cracked her knuckles with excessive force.
"But seriously, couldn't we have made the wedding a deathmatch arena? The winner marries the Emperor! Anyway..."
Roxy locked Oria in an intense, predatory gaze.
"Don't you cry if he plays rough. I can always shatter his bones for you."
As Oria advanced, Camille stood hidden in the shadows, sketching the scene into her notebook with a dreamy, vacant stare.
*A pristine white dress amidst our terrifying palace...?*
Camille dragged her quill across the paper.
*What a fascinating paradox. It inspires me to paint a canvas... Oria looks like a dove walking willingly into the jaws of a beast.*
Despite their bizarre eccentricities and comments laced with subtle jealousy, Oria recognized the underlying acknowledgement of her beauty. She couldn't help but smile at them affectionately, completely ignoring her co-wives' deranged behavior.
---
Finally, she reached the zenith of the throne room.
There stood the Emperor. His overwhelming presence, an aura that terrified galaxies, dominated the space. He wore his royal black mantle. Yet, when his eyes met Oria's, that brutal aura instantly vanished.
He gently took her hand.
It was a gentleness that entirely contradicted his terrifying nature as the galaxy's supreme tyrant. They exchanged a look of pure, unadulterated romance, as if the entire cosmos had halted for this singular moment.
Oria opened her mouth. She was just about to recite her wedding vows with a trembling, shy voice.
*Snoooore... Snoooore...*
The majestic moment was interrupted by extremely soft, highly musical snoring.
Oria glanced over in sheer disbelief. Celine was positioned in the front row as the flower girl, but she was completely asleep while standing upright! With every rhythmic exhale, she dropped rose petals from her basket with agonizing slowness, perfectly synchronized with her breathing.
In the opposite corner, Eve pushed up her clinical eyewear, which flashed with blue light. She stared at her digital monitor with pure scientific focus.
"The Emperor's heart rate has elevated by 0.04%."
Eve whispered, logging her observations with zero regard for the romantic atmosphere.
"This physiological shift... she truly exerts a fascinating influence over his emotional parameters."
---
*Clink... Clink...*
In the royal dining hall, the grand banquet commenced, marking the beginning of the bride's true "roasting."
Oria sat beside the Emperor at the long table, overflowing with the finest cosmic delicacies. Meanwhile, the Wives initiated their barrage of teasing—a display of dominance and a ritual to welcome the newest member into the family.
"Come now, Oria, feed Our Lord with your own hands."
Layla provoked.
"Yes, this is the highly anticipated bride's reward."
Isabella added.
Yielding to their pressure, Oria picked up her fork. Her hand trembled with sheer embarrassment, her face threatening to spontaneously combust. The Emperor smiled devilishly and leaned in slightly, eating from her shaking hand in full view of everyone.
And then, the arrows of jealousy began to fly.
"Do not let this pampering go to your head, Oria," Layla stated, wiping her lips with a silk napkin. "His visitation schedule for our chambers remains exceedingly congested."
Isabella swirled her glass gently, smiling with elitist pride.
"True, but we shall permit you to monopolize him for this week only, in appreciation of the dress I personally selected for you!"
Roxy slammed her fist against the table, flashing a wide, fang-revealing grin.
"And if you get bored of him later, come train in the boxing ring with me!"
Amidst this verbal crossfire, Oria's eyes widened slightly.
*They are... not truly angry.*
She deduced from their gazes and actions that they were merely defending their territory in their own unique way. They had carved out a space for her in their hearts. She was no longer just an intruder. She had become a "little sister" and a co-wife who required protection... and relentless, eternal teasing.
---
Far removed from the noisy clamor of the banquet.
Oria slipped out onto the grand balcony of the Uranus Palace.
The balcony overlooked the naked, glittering stars against the dark canvas of space. In the far horizon, Planet Earth swam in peaceful blue silence. A silence... that appeared tranquil now, but no one knew when it would mutate into a future hellscape torn apart by war.
Oria inhaled the freezing air.
*Fwoosh...*
She felt a heavy mantle draped over her shoulders. The Emperor had followed her.
He stood behind her, wrapping his powerful arms around her slender waist, pulling her back against his broad chest.
"You bear my name now."
The Emperor spoke, his impossibly deep voice vibrating against her back.
"You are no longer mere spoils of war... you have become a 'Queen' fully deserving of this position, Oria."
Oria melted into his warm embrace. She felt absolute safety within his arms.
"And I shall be yours for all eternity..."
She replied with words steeped in pure love, turning her face toward him. The Emperor leaned in slowly, his eyes half-closed. Oria closed her eyes. He was on the absolute verge of kissing her lips at the zenith of this romantic climax...
*Crash... Thud!*
A muffled, yet highly audible scuffle erupted from directly behind the slightly ajar balcony door!
*You stepped on my foot, Veronica!* Layla's voice whispered in suppressed rage.
*The angle here is suboptimal for surveillance.* Veronica's tense, freezing response followed.
*Screw this! Let me kick the door down so we can see what they're doing!* Roxy growled roughly.
The Emperor stopped instantly.
He sighed in utter defeat. He dragged his free hand across his forehead, glaring at the door that was threatening to burst off its hinges from the Wives shoving against it.
Oria blinked for two seconds before erupting into a bright, crystal-clear laugh that echoed across the quiet balcony.
She looked up at the stars, then back at the Emperor, who offered a faint smile.
*Yes...*
Oria finally comprehended the glaring truth.
My life as the Emperor's Wife will never, ever be peaceful... It will be saturated with love, pure chaos, and many... many exceedingly annoying co-wives!