You’ve been dreaming of your wedding to Marius for weeks. Ever since you saved him from the barricade and seduced his grandfather into getting his blessing you’ve been on cloud nine. Now that he’s totally recovered and ready to don a suit and a jockstrap for the big night.
Still, there’s one thing that’s weighing on your mind. Ever since your dad confessed that he’s no blood relation and that he found you in an inn, you’ve been wondering about your true parentage. Thankfully, your mom was thoughtful enough to keep a diary the year she got pregnant, which has proved…more than informative.
‘Okay,’ you say, sitting down next to your best friend Eponyne. She takes a long drag on her cigarette and flicks the ash into the Seine. The two of you are in your usual evening hangout spot. And here, ‘hangout’ definitely means you monologuing about your problems while she offers advice and caustic remarks. To be honest, that’s all she ever does, whatever the social situation.
‘So you found your actual dad?’ she asks.
'This is the thing. My mom was… well, a bit of a slut.’ You sigh, turning the pages. 'It could be any one of these three dudes. She got with them all in one week.’
'Damn, your mum had game.’ Epponine sounds faintly impressed. Then, committed to her role of prompting exposition, adds, 'who are they, then?’
'Possible father number one!’ you flick through to the relevant page. 'Felix Tholomyes. Frat bro and sexual extraordinaire. I know this is weird, when he might be my dad, but my mom had a really good time with him.’
'Maybe you inherited some of his skill,’ Epaneen says with a saucy wink. 'Lucky Marius.’
'Maybe,’ you sound dubious. 'Anyway, there’s only a 1/3 chance that it’s him. It could be the other two.’
You clear your throat. 'Possible father number two! Myriel was the Bishop of Digne and well loved by his parishioners. My mom stayed with him on a cold night and warmed more than his bed.’
'You are very dutiful,’ Epohnene nods. 'It could be either of them. Who’s Potential Daddy No.3?’
'This is where it gets really cool,’ you blush, and then take a deep breath. 'I think it’s Louis-Philippe.’
Eparnein nearly chokes on her cigarette. 'You what?’
'Yeah. It’s all very cryptic but I think I’ve put it together. It doesn’t matter anyway, because when I meet my dad I’ll know he’s the one. I’ve invited him to my wedding.’
'Oh? You know who he is?’
'Not exactly.’ The blush steals even further across your cheek. 'I’ve invited all three.’