The morning sun had barely shined above the eastern districts of Dolan City when Neco and Tara slipped into Egon’s guest chamber in the east wing.

The room smelled faintly of wine and last night’s tension. Egon sat shirtless on the edge of the narrow bed, staring at the formal black tunic and silver-threaded vest laid out before him.

He looked up as the two maids entered, carrying trays of grooming supplies and a polished pair of boots.

Neco’s cat ears flicked forward. She set the tray down with a dramatic sigh.

"Niyah, My lord looks like he’s about to face execution instead of a wedding. Should we polish your courage too?"

Tara giggled behind her hand, bunny ears bouncing.

"He’s nervous, Neco. Look at those hands. They’re shaking."

Egon raised a brow. "I’m not shaking, you two. I’m just, contemplating my life choices."

Neco circled behind him and ran her fingers through his dark hair, tugging lightly.

"Contemplating? No. You’re terrified. Two noble ladies, one month of ban, and now you have to stand in front of half the city and swear you’ll be faithful. Poor thing."

Tara knelt and lifted one of his feet, sliding the first boot on. Her fingers lingered on his ankle.

"At least you get to look delicious today. Black suits you the best. Makes your eyes look like storm clouds."

Egon caught her wrist gently. "Careful, bunny girl. If you flirt too hard and I might forget I’m supposed to be punished."

Tara’s cheeks turned pinked, but she didn’t pull away.

"Who says I’m flirting? I’m just dressing the groom. Professionally."

Neco leaned over his shoulder, breath warm against his ear.

"Professionally? Then why are your nipples hard under that blouse, Tara?"

Tara squeaked and swatted at Neco’s tail. "Stop it! We’re supposed to make him presentable, not ravish him before the vows."

Egon sighed painfully. "You two are dangerous. If I survive this month without touching anyone, it’ll be a miracle."

Neco tugged a lock of his hair, adding seductively, "You’ll survive, My lord. And when the month ends? We’ll be waiting in line."

Tara finished lacing the second boot and stood, brushing imaginary lint from his shoulders.

"There. You’re now handsome enough to make two noblewomen regret their punishment."

Egon looked at himself in the standing mirror. The black tunic hugged his chest and arms. And the silver embroidery caught the light like stars.

He met his own gaze and exhaled. Not to be narcissistic, but he looked really hot today.

"Thank you, both. I like it Very much."

Neco’s playful face became gentle. "You’re welcome, my lord. Now go marry them before we decide to steal you instead."

Across the hall, in Vienna’s private dressing chamber, the atmosphere was different.

Hilga stood behind Vienna, fastening the last clasp of the ivory silk gown. The gown was fitted, embroidered with silver vines that climbed from the deep neckline to the shoulders. The skirt flowed in soft layers, slit high on one side to reveal a long, pale leg.

Barbara worked silently beside her, pinning tiny seed pearls into Vienna’s upswept hair.

Noella sat on the chaise, already dressed in a midnight-blue gown that shimmered like liquid starlight. The neckline plunged daringly low, the waist cinched tight, the skirt sweeping the floor in dramatic folds. Her long black hair cascaded loose, crowned with a delicate silver circlet.

Hilga broke the silence first: "You’re both beautiful, My ladies. The city will weep with envy."

Vienna stared at her reflection, replying, "They’ll also whisper that a former slave marrying two Castros heiresses. The scandal will last years."

Noella’s laughed sweetly, "Let them whisper, Sister Vienna. We know what he is. What he could become. What he chose not to become."

Barbara spoke in trembling voice, "He broke my binding last night too. I felt it snap. Yet, I still, I still want to kneel for him. But now it’s my choice. That scares me more than anything."

Vienna turned, eyes sharp. "Then why are you helping dress us for him?"

Barbara met her gaze, and answered: "Because when the chains fell away, the longing didn’t. I hated him. I hated myself. But I still want him. And I think... I think he wants to be better."

Hilga finished the last clasp and stepped back.

"He freed you both, my ladies. He could have kept the leashes forever. Instead he risked everything. That matters more than anything else."

Noella rose, smoothing her gown. "It matters. But one month. No touching. No kissing. No nothing. He’ll feel every second of it."

Vienna nodded once. "Good. Let him ache. Let him remember what he almost destroyed."

The grand chapel of the Castros estate was lit with hundreds of floating mana-lanterns. Rows of benches held the city’s elite: the Magistrate in crimson robes, the City Lord with his wife and heir, merchants who traded with the Flower Garden, guild masters, even a few minor nobles who had come out of curiosity.

Whispers already filled the air.

Egon waited at the altar, back straight, hands clasped behind him. The black tunic made his shoulders look broader, the silver embroidery gleaming under the light.

He looked like a man who had walked through fire and come out the other side.

The doors opened.

Vienna entered first, alone. The ivory gown caught every eye. She walked with measured steps, chin high, expression unreadable.

Behind her came Noella in midnight blue, her stride confident and predatory.

The chapel fell silent.

Then the murmurs began.

"A commoner?"

"They said he is a former slave. But they fall in love with him."

"What the! How did he manage to pull two Castros heiresses?"

"I see nothing wrong with him. He is a Soul Evolver and devilishly handsome. If I were younger, I would have fallen for him too."

"You’re right, madam. Their children would be so beautiful."

"Tsk. He is not worthy."

Hilga stood at the side aisle. When the gossip grew too loud, she released a pulse of her pure crushing aura.

The whispers died instantly.

The priest raised his hands.

"Egon Novos. Do you take Vienna Castros and Noella Castros as your wives, to honor, to protect, to cherish, in the sight of the gods and this assembly?"

Egon’s voice was steady. "I do."

"Vienna Castros. Do you take Egon Novos as your husband?"

Vienna looked straight into Egon’s eyes. "I do."

"Noella Castros. Do you take Egon Novos as your husband?"

Noella’s smile was small and sharp. "I do."

The priest lifted the ceremonial cords (silver for Vienna, midnight for Noella) and bound their joined hands together.

"By the light of the heavens and the strength of the earth, you are bound. What the gods have joined, let no man tear asunder."

The cords tightened, glowed briefly, then vanished.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The chapel erupted in polite applause.

The Magistrate stood, bowing slightly. The City Lord inclined his head.

Egon looked at his wives.

Vienna spoke first to Egon,

"You may stay. You may call us wife, Egon. But the punishment must begin from tomorrow. One month. No touch. No kiss. No lustful glance. You will sleep alone. Eat alone. Suffer alone."

Noella leaned in, lips brushing his ear seductively.

"Did you understand her full meaning, husband?"

Before Egon’s brain could process it, his cock twitched in response.

The nuptial Chamber is ready.