Meanwhile, over at Marcus Higgins' house, Marcus was just waking up from his sleep when his phone started ringing.
It was Kurt, and from the sound of it, he was still sulking after another family meltdown—and, of course, venting about it.
"Man… that's really rough, buddy," Marcus said, half-asleep, listening to Kurt rant about his ridiculous household drama.
"Oh, by the way," Kurt added, suddenly changing tone,
"I've got some news too. I got a wedding invitation from Allen. You remember him, right? That little kid who used to follow us around after school."
"What?! Allen's getting married?!" Marcus shot upright.
"Then why the hell didn't I get an invitation?"
"Haha, well… I guess he figured you'd show up anyway," Kurt laughed.
"Just like Lenny's wedding—he didn't invite you either, and you still came."
"Hahaha, yeah, fair point," Marcus chuckled.
"Alright then, give me the address and the wedding date."
Kurt didn't hesitate and immediately told him the location and date.
"Thanks, man. I'm definitely coming," Marcus said confidently.
"Oh, and one more thing," Kurt added.
"Allen's apparently marrying nine women at the same time. Pretty crazy, right? I don't even know how he's pulling that off—especially with some kind of open relationship like that. I can barely handle one wife and my kids. But hey, I hope it works out for him, hahaha."
"Seriously?" Marcus laughed.
"Well, yeah… I'm kinda jealous, not gonna lie. But I think I know exactly who he's copying."
Marcus said this while lying naked in bed, wrapped loosely in a blanket.
Deep down, he felt like this was somehow his fault.
"Wow, you're really full of yourself," Kurt replied lazily.
"Oh, by the way," Marcus continued,
"Do you think Allen's wives are hot?"
Suddenly, Marcus got kicked hard by a woman sleeping next to him.
"Don't push your luck, Marcus," the woman muttered, still half-asleep.
"Well, I don't know for sure," Kurt said,
"but one of the women Allen's marrying is an acquaintance of Lenny's wife. And let's just say… yeah. She's definitely hot."
"What?! Seriously?" Marcus said, glancing down at the woman's leg beside him.
There was a tattoo there—clearly another man's name, the kind that screamed motorcycle gang member.
"Oh, and hey," Marcus added casually,
"if I don't make it to the wedding, just tell the cops it was Catherine from Applebee's." Macus said that as if he were a mentally retarded. Because he seemed to have just realized that he had slept with a woman who appeared to have a husband or boyfriend who was a member of a gang.
....
Meanwhile, at Rob Schneider's house, Rob was quietly reading Allen's wedding invitation.
"So… who's getting married, honey?" asked Gloria, his 60-year-old wife, who was very clearly about twenty years older than Rob.
"The one getting married is Allen," Rob replied. "My old friend from middle school."
He kept talking while casually massaging Gloria's back.
"The wedding's next week," Rob added, a little hopeful. "Do you think you can come with me, sweetheart?"
"Oh, of course I'll come with you," Gloria said with a warm smile. "I think I'll even call my doctor and postpone my cataract surgery."
Rob's face instantly lit up.
"Thank you, honey. You're truly the most special woman in my heart."
"Well then," Rob said confidently, standing up, "now I shall take you… to a world of total relaxation."
He turned around and lifted a tray that held several heated stones, fresh off the stove.
Without realizing it, Rob grabbed one of the stones with his bare hand.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!!" Rob screamed as the heat instantly burned his palm.
In pure panic, he dropped the stone straight onto Gloria's back.
"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" Gloria shrieked, jolting forward as her back felt like it was on fire.
Both of them screamed at the same time.
...
Back at Allen's place, it was now three days before the wedding.
At the moment, Raviel, Tiamat, and Aphrodite were finally able to walk again—
though they still needed canes to get around, moving carefully like people who insisted they were fine while clearly not being fine.
As for Mikaela, she was still stuck in her wheelchair.
Mostly because she and Allen had been spending way too much time together in bed instead of actually letting her rest.
And yeah, that was also because Allen still had no plans to "deal with" the Olympian girls just yet.
Meanwhile, Hera was over in another section of the property, helping supervise the decorations for the castle—
which Raviel proudly called a "mansion."
That place would be used for the wedding ceremony,
and at the same time, it was also being prepared as a place for the guests to stay overnight.
Allen just couldn't bring himself to make his guests—especially those coming from his hometown—
go looking for a random motel after the wedding was over.
"No, no—that one's crooked," Hera said, crossing her arms as her eyes narrowed while she evaluated the decoration.
"If you want it to look good, then don't just stick things on carelessly like that."
One of the workers immediately froze, panic flashing across his face.
"S–Sorry, Miss Olimpia. We'll fix it right away."
"Good," Hera replied shortly.
"And don't place the flowers too close together. This is a wedding venue, not a cemetery garden."
A few of the workers exchanged quick glances, but no one said a word. They simply picked up the pace, moving with far more caution than before.
Hera walked slowly across the hall, the soft tap, tap of her small golden staff echoing against the floor. Her sharp gaze swept across every detail—pillars, drapes, lighting—missing nothing.
"Raise the crystal lights a little higher," she ordered. "I want the sunlight to come in during the afternoon. Not blinding everyone like it's noon."
"Yes, Miss Olimpia!"
Hera let out a quiet breath.
"Honestly… Raviel keeps calling this place a 'mansion,' but if the decorations are careless, it'll still look like an empty building."
She stopped in front of the main altar, her eyes lingering there. Her voice dropped, softer than before.
"…This isn't just someone else's wedding," she murmured.
"It's our wedding. Even if the guests are few, I still want the place to look good."
She straightened her posture.
"This is a day they'll remember for the rest of their lives," she said firmly.
"So nothing here is to be done halfway."
Turning back to the workers, her tone became sharp again.
"Alright, continue. Once you finish one section, report to me. And if there's anything you're unsure about—ask, don't guess."
Her voice was strict, but not cruel.
Several workers nodded quickly.
"Understood, Miss Olimpia!"
Hera stood still for a moment, then released a small, irritated sigh.
"…Hmph. Where did Allen go? Why isn't he taking this seriously?"
She looked back at the altar once more.
"But since we've come this far…" she muttered quietly,
"…then at the very least, this place has to be perfect."
After finishing one last check on the smaller details, Hera finally decided to return and relax. Her body was sore from standing and supervising all day, and the warm bath in the mansion's spa room sounded too tempting to ignore.
The spa room itself was quiet and spacious, filled with faint steam and the gentle scent of herbs. At its center was a large warm-water bath, the surface of the water shimmering softly under the light.
Not long after, Hera removed her clothes and slowly stepped into the bath, letting out a quiet sigh as the warmth wrapped around her body. She leaned back, finally allowing herself to relax—
when suddenly, the door to the room opened.
"Aah!" Hera cried out in shock, immediately covering herself and sinking deeper into the water until only her head remained above the surface.
The person who had entered stopped in place.
It was Allen—completely naked, with only a towel loosely wrapped around his lower body.
"Oh—sorry," Allen said quickly, turning his head away. "I didn't realize someone was already in here. Should I just move to another room?"
Hera hesitated for a moment, her face warm as she peeked over the edge of the bath.
"N–No… that's not necessary," she replied, her voice slightly stiff but controlled. "You can… join me, if you want."
She paused, then added more quietly,
"Oh, and Allen… there's something I want to talk to you about, if that's alright."
Hearing that, Allen didn't hesitate. He calmly removed the towel from his waist and stepped into the warm water, settling down beside Hera at a respectful distance.
The water rippled softly as he leaned back, letting out a quiet breath as the warmth spread through his body. Steam slowly rose between them, filling the space with a faint haze.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable—just… heavy with things left unsaid. The gentle sound of water, the distant echo of the spa room, and the slow rhythm of their breathing were the only things breaking the quiet.
Hera kept her gaze forward, arms resting lightly on the edge of the bath. Allen, meanwhile, leaned back with his eyes half-closed, as if giving her time to gather her thoughts.
It felt like the kind of silence that came right before an important conversation.
"By the way… what did you want to talk about?" Allen finally asked, glancing toward Hera. "Is this about the wedding?"
Hera nodded slowly, but she didn't say anything right away.
"Well," Allen continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I know this whole thing might feel… forced. Especially with that agreement you and the others made with Raviel." He let out a quiet breath. "I won't lie—I don't really hate the situation. I'm a guy, and yeah, I have my own desires. I'm not the type to just let go of people I've already let into my life." He paused for a moment. "But still… I do feel a bit guilty about it."
Hera shook her head gently. "That's not what I wanted to talk about," she said calmly.
She looked down at the surface of the water, watching the steam rise as she spoke again, her voice quieter this time. "Well… it's true that at first, my sisters and I felt that way too. Like we were being dragged into something we didn't fully choose."
She stopped there, as if weighing her next words carefully, letting the warm water and silence do some of the talking for her.
"But… what am I to you, really?" Hera asked, finally turning her head to look at Allen.
"Hm?" Allen replied, a little caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
Hera took a slow breath. "Can you promise me something?" she said quietly. "After you marry me… will you still love me?" Her gaze didn't waver. "I don't want you to end up like Zeus—having children with his wife, then abandoning them just to chase other women and fool around."
There was a hint of bitterness in her voice. She clenched her fingers slightly under the water. "I've read those stories. The ones from the age of heroes. Stories about Aphrodite, about the others… and about me." She scoffed softly. "They always paint me as the jealous one. The one who curses every woman Zeus gives attention to." Her lips pressed together. "I hate those stories."
For a moment, there was only the sound of the water gently rippling.
Allen looked at her seriously now. "Well, about that," he said calmly, "yeah. I can promise you." He met her eyes. "I'm not Zeus. And I don't throw people away once they're part of my life."
He gave a small, confident smile. "Honestly? I'm not the type to let you go that easily. Not now. Not after everything."
"Shameless man," Hera muttered. Her tone was sharp, but there was something else beneath it—not anger, more like embarrassment she refused to admit. She moved as if to stand. "Alright then, I'll be going."
Before she could take a step, Allen gently caught her wrist—not rough, not forceful—and pulled her back just enough that Hera ended up sitting on his lap. The warm water rippled softly around them.
"H-Hey—!" Hera instinctively grabbed Allen's shoulders to keep her balance. Her face flushed, eyes wide. "What do you think you're doing?!"
Allen lifted his hands slightly, relaxed, almost casual. "Easy. I just don't want you walking away with the wrong ideas," he said lightly, though his gaze was serious. "Just listen to me for a second. That's all."
Hera went quiet. The distance between them was close—too close to ignore—but the mood wasn't wild or heated. It was calm, warm, heavy in a different way. She took a slow breath, then let out a small huff. "You really have a talent for throwing people off balance."
Allen gave a faint smile. "Maybe. But I wasn't joking about that promise."
A few seconds passed. Hera finally relaxed her shoulders and turned her face away, avoiding his eyes. "If you break that promise," she said quietly, "I won't just stay silent."
Allen nodded. "Fair."
Hera was sitting on Allen's lap this time without resisting. Then she spoke softly,
"Don't make me regret choosing you."
Allen answered calmly, absolute certainty in his voice. "You won't."
Hearing that, Hera finally looked up at him—really looked at him. His handsome features, the calm expression on his face, and especially those striking green eyes. There was no teasing, no playful smirk. He was completely serious.
And that seriousness hit her harder than she expected.
Her cheeks flushed instantly, red as a tomato.
Before she could overthink it, Hera leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. It was sudden—impulsive.
Allen froze for half a second in surprise, then gently returned the kiss, warm and unhurried.
But almost immediately, Hera felt something very unmistakable pressing against her lower body.
Her eyes widened.
She broke the kiss at once and stood up so quickly that water splashed over the edge of the bath.
"Okay—nope. That's enough," she said firmly, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself. "I am not letting my legs stop working right before our wedding day."
She pointed at him, cheeks still burning.
"And if you really can't hold it in, go find Mikaela and let her put that python to sleep, alright?"
Before Allen could respond, Hera turned and hurried out of the spa room—clearly retreating before she completely lost her composure… or her resolve.
The door shut behind her.
Allen leaned back against the edge of the bath, exhaling slowly.
"…Damn women," he muttered to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips.