Episode 244
The wedding was supposed to go smoothly… but it didn’t.
“Oh my! The Apostle himself has graced us with his presence!”
“It’s an honor! Truly an honor!”
“I’ve never been prouder to be a member of the Edward Marshall Fan Club!”
I couldn’t be more embarrassed by that name. Can’t they just change it already?
These so-called “EsaMo” members started arriving in Jerusalem days before the wedding, eager to pay their respects.
“I heard Nasr and Fatima serve the Apostle closely, but to think you’d go this far for them is truly generous.”
“Fatima is so lucky.”
“Isn’t it a tremendous blessing to be wed at the first wedding officiated by the Apostle in history?”
As Nasr had mentioned, all these members held significant social positions, making the impact even greater than I anticipated.
Just look around; most of the guests here are either Ayyubid emirs or Byzantine nobles.
Fatima’s groom is said to be a renowned scholar from a prestigious family, celebrated in both the Ayyubid and Byzantine circles.
Nasr and Fatima, based on their credentials alone, wouldn’t have made the cut, but serving me closely granted them easy entry.
In fact, I heard they were practically begged to join.
Fatima’s groom, Ali Ramadan, nearly broke into tears and tried to bow to the ground when he saw me, which wasn’t entirely unexpected.
“Apostle! Thank you, thank you!”
“Now, now, you shouldn’t be doing that on the eve of your wedding. Stand tall.”
“When Fatima first told me, I thought it was a joke. I never imagined I’d experience something like this in my lifetime. I’m just grateful.”
“Hmm… I’m glad you’re happy.”
A question suddenly popped into my mind.
How did someone so intellectual, who seems to have spent his life buried in books, fall for her?
When curiosity strikes, I have to find out.
“Your name is Ali Ramadan, right? What do you find so appealing about Fatima?”
“Well, there are countless things. First, her graceful demeanor.”
“Oh…”
Is there some epidemic wiping out all the graceful people in the world?
Or maybe Fatima, being a skilled assassin, just acts that way around others.
If he’d just said her looks, I might have understood, but this is confusing.
“And then there’s the strength that occasionally shines through her grace. I sensed she was extraordinary from the start. That’s why she’s entrusted with the important task of serving you, Apostle.”
“Well, she is strong.”
“Oh, I knew it! My judgment of people isn’t wrong.”
His definition of strength might differ from mine, but as long as he’s happy, that’s what matters.
I genuinely wish them a happy marriage, so I can only offer my heartfelt blessings.
“By the way, after the wedding, you’ll be living in Constantinople. Are you okay with that?”
“Of course. In fact, being closer to you, Apostle, is the best thing I could ask for. It’s no problem at all.”
“Really? That’s good to hear. Fatima must have mentioned it, but sometimes when I go on long trips, she might have to accompany me. I hope you understand. You’re welcome to join if you wish.”
“No, I wouldn’t want to interfere with my wife’s sacred and honorable duty of serving you.”
I appreciate his understanding, but I worry he might faint if he ever learns her true profession.
Given Nasr and Fatima’s meticulousness, it’s unlikely even family would find out, but life is full of surprises.
Still, that’s a concern for the distant future. We can deal with it when the time comes.
With a kind smile, I patted Ramadan’s shoulder and sincerely wished him well.
Finally, the fateful day arrived.
The hall where the wedding was to be held was packed with people, leaving no room to step outside the entrance.
Inside, however, only those with invitations were allowed, making it slightly less crowded.
Despite my insistence that it wasn’t necessary, the wedding venue was adorned with lavish decorations and artworks, making it a cultural treasure in its own right.
Nasr even suggested turning it into a museum afterward, but I decided not to argue.
Contrary to my worries, the wedding itself proceeded without major issues.
I wanted to avoid overly complicated procedures, but I understood the importance of formality and tradition, so I made sure the ceremony was of reasonable length.
After much deliberation, we decided to incorporate both traditional local customs and unique elements, given that this was a wedding officiated by the leader of a global faith.
With my suggestion, we added a few modern wedding events, creating a ceremony unlike any other in the world.
As the sound of drums filled the air, Fatima appeared, dressed more splendidly than ever, and the groom gazed at her with eyes full of emotion, bringing the ceremony to its peak.
“Divine retribution upon Edward Marshall, the embodiment of sin!”
A loud voice interrupted, and several guests stood up, drawing small weapons from their robes.
Despite thorough security checks, they managed to smuggle in weapons, indicating meticulous planning.
Having seen so many people brandishing weapons and shouting my name, I found myself thinking only of how well-prepared they were.
Then again, this was the first time I’d been ambushed at a wedding, so it was a novel experience.
It was also clear that all the armed individuals were Jewish.
Sigh… I’ve tried so hard to give them a chance, but if they insist on this, there’s nothing more I can do.
“Dear friends, this is a joyous occasion. If you have business with me, could it wait until after the ceremony?”
“Stalling won’t help you!”
Before anyone could intervene, the armed Jews surged forward, surrounding the bride, groom, and me.
“We will kill you here today and restore the truth to this land.”
“Death to the false prophet Marshall!”
“Death!”
Judging by their words, I understood their purpose.
Attacking during a wedding wasn’t a bad plan.
No one comes armed, and security is usually relaxed during the ceremony.
The assassins seemed confident of their success, taking their time to boast rather than attack immediately.
“There are no guards to protect you here!”
“If you were truly a prophet of God, how could you be in such danger? Your facade is crumbling.”
“If you survive this, maybe, but if you die by our hands, you’re nothing but a fraud.”
I wondered why they weren’t attacking right away, but it seemed they wanted to build up to this moment.
If I were to die here, they’d be right; I’d be nothing but a fraud.
A true divine messenger wouldn’t fall to such third-rate assassins.
Looking around, it seemed there were only regular guests, and the guards were anxiously waiting at the back, so I understood their confidence.
If not for the fact that many guests were brought by Nasr, they might have been right about the lack of protection.
Ironically, their actions only served to prove that I might indeed be chosen by God.
Wait, could I really be a divine apostle?
Their words are making me doubt myself.
“So, if I survive this, will you acknowledge me as an apostle?”
“Stop stalling with your word games!”
“No, I’m not stalling. Isn’t that what you’re saying? Though, unfortunately, even if I survive, you won’t be around to see it.”
“What nonsense…”
Just as one of them was about to shout a cliché line, Fatima, who had been trembling with anger, stepped forward.
Her groom, thinking she was scared, tried to comfort her, but she quickly turned to me.
“Apostle, are you trying to uncover their mastermind by keeping them talking?”
“No, it’s just… I feel sorry for them.”
“Sorry for them?”
“Seeing them so confident, thinking their plan has succeeded, what do you feel?”
“I’m so angry I can’t think straight.”
I thought she’d hold back with her groom nearby, but I was wrong.
Considering her loyalty, the fact that she’s letting these assassins live is already a testament to her restraint.
I was stalling to figure out how to handle the situation, but it seems I don’t need to worry about that anymore.
Everyone here is practically my devotee, so there’s no risk of any secrets slipping out.
“Shall we, then?”
As I stood there with a wry smile, Fatima yanked off her cumbersome headpiece in a fit of irritation and hurled it to the ground. She asked, “Should I kill them, Apostle?”
Who would have thought there’d come a day when I’d nod in response to such a question?
With a chuckle, I finally uttered words I never imagined I’d say in my lifetime.
“Go ahead. Do as you wish.”
I’m not quite sure how to describe this, but it feels like I’ve seen similar words before.
Ah, yes. Is this what they call a blood wedding or something?
Of course, the blood being spilled won’t be mine, but does that really matter?
Indeed, what kind of grand and elegant wedding is this supposed to be?
For Fatima, this kind of wedding is just perfect.