Even Karl, who had been sulking and plotting with Milo near the side of the hall, forgot to breathe for a second. His jaw went slack, his eyes wide. "That's our wife…" he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "How can someone be that pretty?"
Beside him, Milo nodded dreamily, his hands pressed to his chest. "She looks like the moon," he said softly. "Brother Karl, I think I'm going to cry."
Karl swallowed hard, glaring at Louis just to keep himself from tearing up. "Don't cry, Milo. Save it for the wedding destruction later," he whispered back.
Meanwhile, at the front of the hall, Fat Louis was frozen in place, his mouth slightly open, his face redder than ever. His robe, which was already struggling to fit, seemed even tighter as he puffed out his chest in a desperate attempt to look worthy. His small eyes followed Ruby as if he couldn't blink.
He whispered under his breath, completely dazed, "She's… she's mine…"
