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... ever prepared for anything in this absurd life, but he had at least hoped the end would be quiet. Peaceful. A nice, quiet elopement with a non-stabby librarian perhaps. Instead, he stood in the eye of a matrimonial hurricane, wrapped in holy robes, with five different wedding bells ringing simultaneously in five different directions.

The Royal Palace had become a warzone. A luxurious, lace-draped, rose-scented warzone.

A battleground of love—and property damage.

[System N ...

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