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The Demon Lord’s Bride (BL)

Getting transmigrated inside a novel is not really a bad thing—you know the story, you have the power of the future in your hand, you know all the hidden keys. You might as well end up as the most powerful and omniscient being in that world. That is, if you don’t wake up during the epilogue. And yet I find myself in the body of a fallen priest at the end of the novel, a tragic hero who had his mana circuit broken in the last war, being shunned, drown in debt, and destined to die not long after. Fortunately, I know just the cure. Unfortunately, the cure was in the hand of one of the Demon Lords—you know, the race that my kingdom just wage war with. Would he give me the cure if I asked him politely? There’s no harm in trying, right? I’d die if I didn’t get the cure, anyway. “Sure, but you have to be my bride as the price,” the Demon Lord said. ...huh? Sir, you know I’m (technically) a priest, right?

Aerlev · LGBT+
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495 Chs

Wedding panic is only a thing for the committee

Do you know the feeling of standing outside a burning house while everyone else is busy putting off the fire?

My wedding was kind of like that.

I mean, aside from feeling depressed and lovesick, I had nothing to do even though everyone was very busy. All day, I heard people coming in with supplies, and the golems going around the tower and the garden to prepare the venue; both for the ceremony up there and the garden banquet down there.

All the demons were busy giving instructions, even Zia, who was in charge of the garden banquet below. Angwi was readying the bedroom guests and double-cleaning the Lair from top to bottom. Doun, as our gardener, had been tending to all the flowers and the plants with extra care, and the twins were patrolling the place more often. Even the keeper had been cleaning Vrida and made sure my wyvern looked pretty; scales shining and horns gleaming, the whole thing.