Invitations
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Invitations
Marriage. What an odd thing for a Primarch to consider, especially for one like Corvus. He knew Fulgrim had gone through several political marriages, but the Lord of Ravens suspected that the Phoenician likely cared little else for such things beyond adding his flair.
But those had been loveless by Fulgrim's own admission. Arrangements made in necessity which would never blossom into anything resembling affection. Perhaps most people are never put into this situation, but those in power often need to either gain or consolidate with another.
It felt odd for Corvus not to be in that situation, and for the longest time, he never even put much thought into getting married. However, if it had happened, it likely would have been purely political, like Fulgrim's.
Knowing then that he was doing this out of love might as well have been miraculous, and that it was to someone like Sachmis made it even more outlandish. A Primarch getting married to an alien was beyond controversial. It likely would have made his life even harder.
Yet somehow, the thought didn't bother him. How many star-crossed lovers lost everything or gained the ire of others, so long as it meant being with their partner? Many would call such people truly heroic or human in such pursuits.
And also selfish…
Love was selfish, at least romantically speaking, for it was often given to one or a select few partners. Beyond that, love became platonic and grandiose: love of nation, species, faith, brotherhood, and family. All unconditional affirmations.
For him and Sachmis, certain conditions were attached to their love, but Corvus thought of them more as "agreed-upon boundaries." They still had obligations beyond each other, even more so than ever before. Balance was a necessity for them both.
Because now their responsibilities had increased two-fold. Sachmis now had her "empire" to run on top of whatever duties she had with the Aeldari, while Corvus would either be forced into secession or play his part in Roboute's plan to maintain galactic stability in the coming civil war.
Getting married seemed almost relaxing in comparison. Not that Corvus was anxious or anything about it. At least, not by much. It wasn't like getting married would kill him, but then again, he heard rumors of how some Drukhari weddings often ended in dozens of assassinations.
Nevertheless, he endeavored to make this a special and memorable occasion, and Sachmis agreed but wanted a grand celebration. Corvus wasn't necessarily against this, but knowing his love, Sachmis would naturally complicate matters.
Corvus and his sons were recovering any lost gear and weapons of their legion, which was taking much longer than he'd have preferred, but it allowed him to monitor for any surviving Ulwarth or their servants. During their twentieth day on Kalthuanesh, Magistrate Sebastian sought to speak with him.
"My Lord Primarch," He bowed by the Lord of Ravens, "I bring a summons from Empress Sachmis. She requests your attention on a matter requiring your expertise and input."
Sachmis could have easily communicated to him with just one vox transmission over their private channel, but she enjoyed using messengers and heralds just because she could, but more so that she likely employed spies for these interactions.
Best to keep up appearances, "Very well, I shall find time to speak with her on these matters within the next five hours." Corvus still had plenty of work to do. Besides, if it was serious, he'd have left right away.
True to his word, Corvus left five hours later and arrived at the soon-to-be-renamed Jainorio Estates. Sachmis was heavily remodeling the estate and sought to remove every piece or indication of her ancient house. A small army of workers and Bonesingers was working on this, and the Primarch noticed that many of the humans working were slaves, thankfully looking well-nourished and kept.
Someday, that was going to change in Kalthuanesh. Corvus might not have been able to do so for the rest of the Imperium, but he had the opportunity to do it here. Even if the Drukhari tried to drag their feet or work around it, at least the Harlequins would ensure things were carried out.
Upon making his way to the primary residence, a path the Primarch was quite familiar with and likely would come to see it often, he was unsurprised to see it was mostly empty. The "royal apartments" were likely to become lavish guest houses, considering there was only one Empress in the estates.
A pair of guards, both Incubi, did not attempt to stop or question the Primarch but merely opened the great doors for him. Once inside the outrageously lavish home of the future Empress Corax, which would take some getting used to, Corvus was surprised to see Sachmis standing over what appeared to be a heavily modified mono-task servitor and an unassuming Wrack.
"Servitor, dictate new message…" Sachmis commanded as she paced, her voice rich with authority.
"I extend this invitation to Lord-General Jack Werbell of the Zanzibar League, bidding him to bear witness to the most illustrious and magnificent union of our age. I, Sachmis, First of Her Name, Mistress of the Night Phoenix, and Sovereign of the Kalthuanesh Empire, shall take my rightful place beside my betrothed—my Chosen and Elevated, He deemed worthy of my favor and hand."
She paused, considering her next words before continuing with deliberate elegance.
"Come adorned in your finest, for mediocrity shall not darken our festivities. Let those who receive this summons recognize the honor bestowed upon them—and let none dare decline without cause most dire."
"Let none dare decline?" Corvus echoed as he approached, one brow arched. "Love, I think most will be a bit busy. The galaxy is in turmoil, after all."
Sachmis fixed him with a pointed look before turning to the Wrack. "I want similar messages transcribed into Aeldari for the Kabals. Ensure they include an appropriate warning—any attempts at assassination against Mon'keigh guests will not be tolerated."
"Yes, Mistress," the Wrack rasped, its voice a grotesque gurgle.
Corvus resisted the urge to grimace. He made a mental note: these wretched creatures would not be lingering in the Estates once they were married.
"Did the Empress of the Kalthuanesh Empire have something for her Chosen and Elevated—the one deemed worthy of her favor and hand—or did she simply wish for him to stand witness as she dictated her royal summons?" Corvus asked with a smirk.
"As amusing as that would be," Sachmis replied, her tone dry yet edged with amusement, "I actually have a few important matters to discuss with you." She gestured toward the two transcribers. "I am preparing invitations for all but those aligned with your Imperium of Man—because I require your insight for that."
"Didn't we agree to keep that list to a select few?" Corvus asked, crossing his arms. "We haven't even decided where we're having this wedding yet."
"We'll determine that once we start receiving confirmations," Sachmis replied smoothly. "But regardless, I fully intend to send invitations to several individuals within your Imperium."
"Like who?" Corvus frowned. He could count, on one hand, the number of people from the Imperium who could or would attend.
"Your brothers?" Sachmis arched a brow, clearly surprised she even had to suggest it.
Corvus blinked, processing the thought. "Oh. Well, yes, we should send invitations to Roboute, Kesar, and Magnus." Those already entangled in the alliance with the Eldar were accounted for.
Sachmis arched a brow. "And your other brothers?"
He exhaled, folding his arms. "That would be a mistake. Most of them will either oppose this marriage outright or have no interest in attending."
"Do you know that?" Sachmis challenged, tilting her head. "We should still extend the invitation. If they decline, then that's one less Primarch to concern ourselves with."
Corvus stepped closer, his voice quieter but firm. "I think you're underestimating just how bad of an idea this is."
Sachmis studied him for a moment before sighing. With a sharp snap of her fingers, she commanded, "You two. Out."
The servitor and Wrack obeyed without hesitation, leaving the chamber. She turned her gaze back to him when the doors slid shut. "Be mindful of your words, my love. You never know who's listening." She eased into the chair behind her desk, fingers steepling.
"I'll keep that in mind." Corvus' expression remained unreadable, but his tone was laced with concern. "To be clear—many of my brothers will not take this well. I'd rather not invite their fury into our wedding, especially when we'll have a room full of guests who definitely don't want to be caught in the crossfire."
Sachmis, however, merely shrugged, a smirk playing at her lips. "A fight or two is to be expected. Yet even the Drukhari has the decency to wait until after the wedding to start stabbing or poisoning each other—at least until they've had a taste of the food and wine."
"Sachmis," Corvus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm being serious."
Sachmis leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on interlaced fingers as she regarded Corvus with a mixture of amusement and understanding. "And I am listening, my love." She exhaled, tapping a nail against the polished surface of her desk. "But consider this—if we do not extend invitations, we risk sending a different message. One that suggests weakness, secrecy, or worse, shame."
Corvus frowned. "It's not about shame—it's about safety and pragmatism. Some of my brothers would see this as a provocation rather than an invitation."
"And yet it could also be seen as an insult." Sachmis countered, "Additionally, news of our marriage and victory here will eventually spread. Would it not be better for your brothers to know this isn't some twisted joke or attempt to sow disorder?"
She had a point. It would be confusing to learn from a second—or third-hand source that someone like himself had married an alien woman.
"If they refuse, it is their refusal, not ours." Her lips curled into a smirk. "Besides, wouldn't it be entertaining to see which ones are curious enough to show up?"
Corvus regarded her with a long, measured look before exhaling and shaking his head. "You are absolutely insufferable."
"And yet, you're still marrying me," Sachmis replied, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. She leaned forward slightly. "Let's try a different approach. Who do you think would actually accept an invitation?"
The first name came to him instantly. "Jaghatai Khan. No doubt about it—he'll come. But he's also likelier to start a fight before the festivities end."
Sachmis hummed in amusement. "Noted. Who else?"
Corvus considered momentarily before continuing, "Fulgrim and Ferrus might attend. They're already aware of Roboute's dealings with the Eldar and the gods, at least from what you've told me. If nothing else, Fulgrim would appreciate the spectacle of it all."
"Mm, and Ferrus?"
"He'd likely come out of sheer stubborn curiosity," Corvus admitted. "Or to make sure Fulgrim doesn't cause trouble."
He considered the rest of his brothers carefully. "Vulkan and Konrad are too caught up in whatever crises they've created for themselves, but even if they weren't, I doubt they'd come. Neither of them has any love for the Aeldari in any capacity."
"Their loss," Sachmis said with an indifferent shrug.
"Horus, Sanguinius, Leman, and Perturabo… I have no idea what they'd do," Corvus admitted. "Something tells me none of them will come. The Eldar outright despise Alpharius, Mortarion refuses to be anywhere near psykers or xenos—let alone both at once—and while I expect the Lion and Dorn to remain civil during the event, they'd most likely be planning an attack on Kalthuanesh the moment the festivities are over."
Sachmis tapped a lacquered nail against the table, mulling over his words. "So, at best, we're looking at four to six of your brothers actually attending."
"That's what I believe." Corvus knew full well there was a chance none of them would attend—after all, the galaxy was hardly in a state of peace. "So, do you really want to waste parchment sending them invitations?"
Sachmis smirked, entirely undeterred. "Of course." She plucked a nearly completed letter from the stack with a casual flick of her wrist. "Besides, there's no harm in asking."
Corvus arched a brow and reached for the letter, only for her to swiftly pull it away.
"And what exactly are your instructions for them?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Just some simple guidelines." She spoke a little too quickly, which only made his suspicion grow. A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips as an idea took shape.
"If you say so…" He leaned in ever so slightly, his voice dipping to a smooth murmur. "By the way… I didn't get the chance to mention it, but you look absolutely stunning today."
Sachmis smirked, unbothered. "I look stunning every day, Corvus."
"True," he conceded with an approving nod, "but today, you are exceptionally radiant." He let his gaze linger appreciatively. "The necklace suits you… as does the dress."
His hand drifted down, resting lightly against her thigh. Sachmis did nothing to stop him, but before she could react, his other hand deftly plucked the letter from her grasp.
She gasped, blinking in momentary surprise before narrowing her eyes in outrage. "Hey! Bastard!"
Corvus laughed, stepping just out of reach as he unfolded the letter. He began reading aloud, easily dodging her attempt to snatch it back.
"Per the terms of this invitation, guests are required—" He paused, barely containing his amusement. "Guests are required to bring gifts?"
Sachmis lunged, finally wresting the letter from his grip. Her glare was sharp enough to cut steel, but her slight flush betrayed more irritation at losing than at what had been revealed.
Corvus crossed his arms, smirking. "Sachmis… were you planning to invite all of my brothers just to see how many of them would bring you a gift?"
"I am a future empress!" Sachmis proclaimed, her cheeks still tinged with color. "And I refuse to believe your brothers are incapable of bringing me something worthy of attending such an extraordinary event."
The Primarch raised an eyebrow, amusement clear in his expression. "A marriage is supposed to be a joyous occasion for everyone," he gently chided. "Not an elaborate scheme to feed the bride's ego and fill her coffers."
Sachmis glared at him, clearly displeased at being called out so directly. She crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line before she muttered, "A wedding should come with extravagant gifts for the bride and groom."
Corvus chuckled, shaking his head. "Somehow, I think your true motivation is a little less about tradition and a little more about how much treasure you can amass in a single evening."
She sniffed, lifting her chin. "If they have the means, why shouldn't they show their appreciation for the invitation?"
"I don't think 'appreciation' is the word you're looking for."
Sachmis huffed. "Fine. Compensation for the honor of witnessing history."
Corvus sighed, rubbing his temples. "Explaining why I love you to my brothers will be an interesting conversation."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
Ultimately, the two settled on the final wording of the invitations, ensuring that each message conveyed the necessary respect—or, in some cases, just enough of it. With the letters sealed, the task of delivery fell to Corvus' sons, who deployed several platoons to personally escort the invitations to their intended recipients.
Weeks passed before the first responses arrived. As expected, Roboute, Magnus, and Jaghatai Khan readily accepted the invitation. Kesar, however, remained silent.
To Corvus' mild surprise, both Fulgrim and Ferrus declined—not out of outright hostility, but simple disinterest in dealing with the Eldar. Still, they promised to send emissaries in their stead.
Perturabo, on the other hand, agreed to attend, though his reasoning was hardly sentimental. His response made it clear: he saw this as an opportunity to examine Port Kalthuanesh, and his attendance came with the promise of a sufficiently suitable gift—one meant, in his own words, to "appease" the Eldar in exchange for the privilege of study.
As for the rest? Many remained unreachable, while others never received their invitations at all—an omission Corvus quickly deduced was deliberate. His sons, it seemed, had exercised their own judgment, quietly deciding that certain Primarchs posed more risk than reward.
At least, that's what Corvus thought—until an unexpected response arrived.
Leman Russ had accepted.
The Wolf King's reply was brief but unmistakably firm: he would attend, but before the wedding, he required a private meeting with Corvus.
Corvus exhaled slowly as he read the message. That was a conversation he would need time to prepare for.
---
@Daemon Hunter
Marriage. What an odd thing for a Primarch to consider, especially for one like Corvus. He knew Fulgrim had gone through several political marriages, but the Lord of Ravens suspected that the Phoenician likely cared little else for such things beyond adding his flair.
But those had been loveless by Fulgrim's own admission. Arrangements made in necessity which would never blossom into anything resembling affection. Perhaps most people are never put into this situation, but those in power often need to either gain or consolidate with another.
It felt odd for Corvus not to be in that situation, and for the longest time, he never even put much thought into getting married. However, if it had happened, it likely would have been purely political, like Fulgrim's.
Knowing then that he was doing this out of love might as well have been miraculous, and that it was to someone like Sachmis made it even more outlandish. A Primarch getting married to an alien was beyond controversial. It likely would have made his life even harder.
Yet somehow, the thought didn't bother him. How many star-crossed lovers lost everything or gained the ire of others, so long as it meant being with their partner? Many would call such people truly heroic or human in such pursuits.
And also selfish…
Love was selfish, at least romantically speaking, for it was often given to one or a select few partners. Beyond that, love became platonic and grandiose: love of nation, species, faith, brotherhood, and family. All unconditional affirmations.
For him and Sachmis, certain conditions were attached to their love, but Corvus thought of them more as "agreed-upon boundaries." They still had obligations beyond each other, even more so than ever before. Balance was a necessity for them both.
Because now their responsibilities had increased two-fold. Sachmis now had her "empire" to run on top of whatever duties she had with the Aeldari, while Corvus would either be forced into secession or play his part in Roboute's plan to maintain galactic stability in the coming civil war.
Getting married seemed almost relaxing in comparison. Not that Corvus was anxious or anything about it. At least, not by much. It wasn't like getting married would kill him, but then again, he heard rumors of how some Drukhari weddings often ended in dozens of assassinations.
Nevertheless, he endeavored to make this a special and memorable occasion, and Sachmis agreed but wanted a grand celebration. Corvus wasn't necessarily against this, but knowing his love, Sachmis would naturally complicate matters.
Corvus and his sons were recovering any lost gear and weapons of their legion, which was taking much longer than he'd have preferred, but it allowed him to monitor for any surviving Ulwarth or their servants. During their twentieth day on Kalthuanesh, Magistrate Sebastian sought to speak with him.
"My Lord Primarch," He bowed by the Lord of Ravens, "I bring a summons from Empress Sachmis. She requests your attention on a matter requiring your expertise and input."
Sachmis could have easily communicated to him with just one vox transmission over their private channel, but she enjoyed using messengers and heralds just because she could, but more so that she likely employed spies for these interactions.
Best to keep up appearances, "Very well, I shall find time to speak with her on these matters within the next five hours." Corvus still had plenty of work to do. Besides, if it was serious, he'd have left right away.
True to his word, Corvus left five hours later and arrived at the soon-to-be-renamed Jainorio Estates. Sachmis was heavily remodeling the estate and sought to remove every piece or indication of her ancient house. A small army of workers and Bonesingers was working on this, and the Primarch noticed that many of the humans working were slaves, thankfully looking well-nourished and kept.
Someday, that was going to change in Kalthuanesh. Corvus might not have been able to do so for the rest of the Imperium, but he had the opportunity to do it here. Even if the Drukhari tried to drag their feet or work around it, at least the Harlequins would ensure things were carried out.
Upon making his way to the primary residence, a path the Primarch was quite familiar with and likely would come to see it often, he was unsurprised to see it was mostly empty. The "royal apartments" were likely to become lavish guest houses, considering there was only one Empress in the estates.
A pair of guards, both Incubi, did not attempt to stop or question the Primarch but merely opened the great doors for him. Once inside the outrageously lavish home of the future Empress Corax, which would take some getting used to, Corvus was surprised to see Sachmis standing over what appeared to be a heavily modified mono-task servitor and an unassuming Wrack.
"Servitor, dictate new message…" Sachmis commanded as she paced, her voice rich with authority.
"I extend this invitation to Lord-General Jack Werbell of the Zanzibar League, bidding him to bear witness to the most illustrious and magnificent union of our age. I, Sachmis, First of Her Name, Mistress of the Night Phoenix, and Sovereign of the Kalthuanesh Empire, shall take my rightful place beside my betrothed—my Chosen and Elevated, He deemed worthy of my favor and hand."
She paused, considering her next words before continuing with deliberate elegance.
"Come adorned in your finest, for mediocrity shall not darken our festivities. Let those who receive this summons recognize the honor bestowed upon them—and let none dare decline without cause most dire."
"Let none dare decline?" Corvus echoed as he approached, one brow arched. "Love, I think most will be a bit busy. The galaxy is in turmoil, after all."
Sachmis fixed him with a pointed look before turning to the Wrack. "I want similar messages transcribed into Aeldari for the Kabals. Ensure they include an appropriate warning—any attempts at assassination against Mon'keigh guests will not be tolerated."
"Yes, Mistress," the Wrack rasped, its voice a grotesque gurgle.
Corvus resisted the urge to grimace. He made a mental note: these wretched creatures would not be lingering in the Estates once they were married.
"Did the Empress of the Kalthuanesh Empire have something for her Chosen and Elevated—the one deemed worthy of her favor and hand—or did she simply wish for him to stand witness as she dictated her royal summons?" Corvus asked with a smirk.
"As amusing as that would be," Sachmis replied, her tone dry yet edged with amusement, "I actually have a few important matters to discuss with you." She gestured toward the two transcribers. "I am preparing invitations for all but those aligned with your Imperium of Man—because I require your insight for that."
"Didn't we agree to keep that list to a select few?" Corvus asked, crossing his arms. "We haven't even decided where we're having this wedding yet."
"We'll determine that once we start receiving confirmations," Sachmis replied smoothly. "But regardless, I fully intend to send invitations to several individuals within your Imperium."
"Like who?" Corvus frowned. He could count, on one hand, the number of people from the Imperium who could or would attend.
"Your brothers?" Sachmis arched a brow, clearly surprised she even had to suggest it.
Corvus blinked, processing the thought. "Oh. Well, yes, we should send invitations to Roboute, Kesar, and Magnus." Those already entangled in the alliance with the Eldar were accounted for.
Sachmis arched a brow. "And your other brothers?"
He exhaled, folding his arms. "That would be a mistake. Most of them will either oppose this marriage outright or have no interest in attending."
"Do you know that?" Sachmis challenged, tilting her head. "We should still extend the invitation. If they decline, then that's one less Primarch to concern ourselves with."
Corvus stepped closer, his voice quieter but firm. "I think you're underestimating just how bad of an idea this is."
Sachmis studied him for a moment before sighing. With a sharp snap of her fingers, she commanded, "You two. Out."
The servitor and Wrack obeyed without hesitation, leaving the chamber. She turned her gaze back to him when the doors slid shut. "Be mindful of your words, my love. You never know who's listening." She eased into the chair behind her desk, fingers steepling.
"I'll keep that in mind." Corvus' expression remained unreadable, but his tone was laced with concern. "To be clear—many of my brothers will not take this well. I'd rather not invite their fury into our wedding, especially when we'll have a room full of guests who definitely don't want to be caught in the crossfire."
Sachmis, however, merely shrugged, a smirk playing at her lips. "A fight or two is to be expected. Yet even the Drukhari has the decency to wait until after the wedding to start stabbing or poisoning each other—at least until they've had a taste of the food and wine."
"Sachmis," Corvus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm being serious."
Sachmis leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on interlaced fingers as she regarded Corvus with a mixture of amusement and understanding. "And I am listening, my love." She exhaled, tapping a nail against the polished surface of her desk. "But consider this—if we do not extend invitations, we risk sending a different message. One that suggests weakness, secrecy, or worse, shame."
Corvus frowned. "It's not about shame—it's about safety and pragmatism. Some of my brothers would see this as a provocation rather than an invitation."
"And yet it could also be seen as an insult." Sachmis countered, "Additionally, news of our marriage and victory here will eventually spread. Would it not be better for your brothers to know this isn't some twisted joke or attempt to sow disorder?"
She had a point. It would be confusing to learn from a second—or third-hand source that someone like himself had married an alien woman.
"If they refuse, it is their refusal, not ours." Her lips curled into a smirk. "Besides, wouldn't it be entertaining to see which ones are curious enough to show up?"
Corvus regarded her with a long, measured look before exhaling and shaking his head. "You are absolutely insufferable."
"And yet, you're still marrying me," Sachmis replied, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. She leaned forward slightly. "Let's try a different approach. Who do you think would actually accept an invitation?"
The first name came to him instantly. "Jaghatai Khan. No doubt about it—he'll come. But he's also likelier to start a fight before the festivities end."
Sachmis hummed in amusement. "Noted. Who else?"
Corvus considered momentarily before continuing, "Fulgrim and Ferrus might attend. They're already aware of Roboute's dealings with the Eldar and the gods, at least from what you've told me. If nothing else, Fulgrim would appreciate the spectacle of it all."
"Mm, and Ferrus?"
"He'd likely come out of sheer stubborn curiosity," Corvus admitted. "Or to make sure Fulgrim doesn't cause trouble."
He considered the rest of his brothers carefully. "Vulkan and Konrad are too caught up in whatever crises they've created for themselves, but even if they weren't, I doubt they'd come. Neither of them has any love for the Aeldari in any capacity."
"Their loss," Sachmis said with an indifferent shrug.
"Horus, Sanguinius, Leman, and Perturabo… I have no idea what they'd do," Corvus admitted. "Something tells me none of them will come. The Eldar outright despise Alpharius, Mortarion refuses to be anywhere near psykers or xenos—let alone both at once—and while I expect the Lion and Dorn to remain civil during the event, they'd most likely be planning an attack on Kalthuanesh the moment the festivities are over."
Sachmis tapped a lacquered nail against the table, mulling over his words. "So, at best, we're looking at four to six of your brothers actually attending."
"That's what I believe." Corvus knew full well there was a chance none of them would attend—after all, the galaxy was hardly in a state of peace. "So, do you really want to waste parchment sending them invitations?"
Sachmis smirked, entirely undeterred. "Of course." She plucked a nearly completed letter from the stack with a casual flick of her wrist. "Besides, there's no harm in asking."
Corvus arched a brow and reached for the letter, only for her to swiftly pull it away.
"And what exactly are your instructions for them?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Just some simple guidelines." She spoke a little too quickly, which only made his suspicion grow. A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips as an idea took shape.
"If you say so…" He leaned in ever so slightly, his voice dipping to a smooth murmur. "By the way… I didn't get the chance to mention it, but you look absolutely stunning today."
Sachmis smirked, unbothered. "I look stunning every day, Corvus."
"True," he conceded with an approving nod, "but today, you are exceptionally radiant." He let his gaze linger appreciatively. "The necklace suits you… as does the dress."
His hand drifted down, resting lightly against her thigh. Sachmis did nothing to stop him, but before she could react, his other hand deftly plucked the letter from her grasp.
She gasped, blinking in momentary surprise before narrowing her eyes in outrage. "Hey! Bastard!"
Corvus laughed, stepping just out of reach as he unfolded the letter. He began reading aloud, easily dodging her attempt to snatch it back.
"Per the terms of this invitation, guests are required—" He paused, barely containing his amusement. "Guests are required to bring gifts?"
Sachmis lunged, finally wresting the letter from his grip. Her glare was sharp enough to cut steel, but her slight flush betrayed more irritation at losing than at what had been revealed.
Corvus crossed his arms, smirking. "Sachmis… were you planning to invite all of my brothers just to see how many of them would bring you a gift?"
"I am a future empress!" Sachmis proclaimed, her cheeks still tinged with color. "And I refuse to believe your brothers are incapable of bringing me something worthy of attending such an extraordinary event."
The Primarch raised an eyebrow, amusement clear in his expression. "A marriage is supposed to be a joyous occasion for everyone," he gently chided. "Not an elaborate scheme to feed the bride's ego and fill her coffers."
Sachmis glared at him, clearly displeased at being called out so directly. She crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line before she muttered, "A wedding should come with extravagant gifts for the bride and groom."
Corvus chuckled, shaking his head. "Somehow, I think your true motivation is a little less about tradition and a little more about how much treasure you can amass in a single evening."
She sniffed, lifting her chin. "If they have the means, why shouldn't they show their appreciation for the invitation?"
"I don't think 'appreciation' is the word you're looking for."
Sachmis huffed. "Fine. Compensation for the honor of witnessing history."
Corvus sighed, rubbing his temples. "Explaining why I love you to my brothers will be an interesting conversation."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
Ultimately, the two settled on the final wording of the invitations, ensuring that each message conveyed the necessary respect—or, in some cases, just enough of it. With the letters sealed, the task of delivery fell to Corvus' sons, who deployed several platoons to personally escort the invitations to their intended recipients.
Weeks passed before the first responses arrived. As expected, Roboute, Magnus, and Jaghatai Khan readily accepted the invitation. Kesar, however, remained silent.
To Corvus' mild surprise, both Fulgrim and Ferrus declined—not out of outright hostility, but simple disinterest in dealing with the Eldar. Still, they promised to send emissaries in their stead.
Perturabo, on the other hand, agreed to attend, though his reasoning was hardly sentimental. His response made it clear: he saw this as an opportunity to examine Port Kalthuanesh, and his attendance came with the promise of a sufficiently suitable gift—one meant, in his own words, to "appease" the Eldar in exchange for the privilege of study.
As for the rest? Many remained unreachable, while others never received their invitations at all—an omission Corvus quickly deduced was deliberate. His sons, it seemed, had exercised their own judgment, quietly deciding that certain Primarchs posed more risk than reward.
At least, that's what Corvus thought—until an unexpected response arrived.
Leman Russ had accepted.
The Wolf King's reply was brief but unmistakably firm: he would attend, but before the wedding, he required a private meeting with Corvus.
Corvus exhaled slowly as he read the message. That was a conversation he would need time to prepare for.
---
@Daemon Hunter
