Artcrystals NSFW

The Bridegroom, by pseudonymous miscreant Oishi Maki and dazzling partner-in-crime Uehara Kazushi.

It is a horror story about marriage, hate, and problem-solving, featuring minor intrigue and genuinely reprehensible love. Hilary Mantel and Thomas Cromwell may or may not have been impugned in the making of this story.

Please heed the warning at the top of the story. If you have any triggers or squicks at all, please feel free to click through from the linked non-spoilery warning and read the spoilery content warning on the wiki page. I mean it, I really don’t want to take anyone by unpleasant surprise–or at least not unpleasant surprise they aren’t looking for.

“She won’t see me,” says Isengrin von Radach, first of his name, without looking up.

Wolfram studies the king. Isengrin hasn’t reacted to the question or the greeting, so he’s in an awful temper; the gods only know that Isengrin is a charmless, faithless, heartless bastard, but he’s rarely rude. Wolfram’s instinct is to stay clear of Isengrin in an awful temper, honestly–well, Wolfram’s instinct is to stay clear of anyone in an awful temper. It’s not like he loves to endure their sulks.

However, enduring the king’s sulks is his job, and putting an end to the king’s sulks his foremost duty, so he sits down in the opposite chair–crossing his legs, mindful of his crisp liturgical tunic.

“You’ll like supper today,” he says encouragingly. “They have pheasants with the apricot glaze. You like the apricot glaze.”

“I know I like the apricot glaze,” snaps Isengrin.