Side Story 10. Birthday Party

2024.04.21.

On a day when the spring breeze carried the breath of summer.

Inside the mansion, drenched by the pitter-patter of rain, servants bustled about carrying trays of rich dishes.

Head Chef Ralph, unusually elated, waved his ladle and directed the staff with vigor.

Even with the increased number of servants, hands were still short—so Hile, who had been holed up in the laboratory, and Lancelot, who had been idling near Yuan’s room with a board game, were pressed into service.

The East Wing, stripped of its stuffy old paintings and freshly painted, was preparing for the grandest party since the mansion’s construction.

Yet, compared to the abundance of food prepared, the guest list was extremely short.

“Hah, Brother, I had wished to attend your wedding party. That I may enjoy a celebration here, even this late, is truly fortunate.”

“Your Highness. No—Your Imperial Majesty. Please do not even mention that incident. The spot where I got smacked while pulling the arrow out of His Grace’s thigh still aches.”

“That is simply what a physician must do.”

Noel, who had been pulling his robe low over his face and ceaselessly admiring the mansion, quietly took Tasha’s hand as she defended him.

Pretending not to notice, Tasha primly seated herself at the round dining table, where no separate place of honor had been set.

“Those without partners must live in sorrow…”

Hile, watching the couples sit side by side, murmured emptily, her eyes hollow.

Once Lancelot, who had helped carry dishes, and Eddie, who had arrived through the rain, finally took their seats, Yuan, the birthday girl of the evening, appeared alongside Clade.

In the relaxed atmosphere, Butler Gustav invited all servants to be seated at every table except the massive central one.

This party had been entirely Yuan’s idea.

Per her wish—to spend her first birthday in the mansion simply, surrounded not by outsiders but by everyone within it—only the household and closest confidants had gathered.

Fearing servants might freeze upon learning an Emperor had arrived, Noel concealed his identity and attended incognito.

Eyes brimming with anticipation, he watched Yuan and Clade approach and sit—but while Yuan greeted him with wide, delighted eyes, Clade’s slightly chilly gaze made Noel shrink back, fiddling nervously with his cutlery.

Yuan could not wipe the smile from her lips as she looked around at the East Wing filled with people.

It was her first birthday celebrated by her whole family—with no strangers, no ill glances.

“Happy birthday, Madam!”

Beginning with Head Chef Ralph, who placed a cake as tall as Yuan herself upon the table, servants one by one pulled small gifts from their pockets and placed them atop the trolley that had carried the cake.

Soon, a little mountain of presents formed.

When Yuan’s dark eyes gazed at them with shimmering emotion, even Lancelot and Eddie stepped forward to deliver their gifts.

“Ha—Happy birthday, Yuan.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

As Yuan whispered “Your Majesty” in the faintest voice, Tasha, seated between them, giggled and pulled out her own gift.

Without separate wrapping, she handed over a dagger beautifully adorned with jewels.

“You learned dagger techniques from my brother, right? I wanted to give you something fitting—so I quietly borrowed something quite valuable from the family’s treasure vault.”

“…Is that really allowed?”

“Of course not. But for you, Yuan, it is. Eugene would probably have told me to bring you something else anyway—so just take it.”

At the sudden, piercing gaze she felt, Tasha turned her head.

At the end of that prickling stare—triggered the instant she said “brother”—stood Duke Roxenhart, who had held his title for less than a year.

Meeting eyes that showed not just wariness but outright displeasure, Tasha did not flinch—instead, she grinned, revealing exactly eight white teeth.

“You seem to like it, Your Grace. What about you, Yuan?”

“I truly love it. Isn’t it beautiful, Clade?”

“…Yeah.”

Tasha was the only one smiling at that grudging reply.

Blushing, Yuan opened every gift people had prepared with care—except Noel’s, whom she told to open his own since he was embarrassed.

Lancelot’s gift was a chess piece made of pure gold; Eddie’s was a box containing health-restoring pills, scented with over twenty rare medicinal ingredients detectable even by smell alone.

Hile gifted her a premium fountain pen and ink set, obtainable only from the Torca Islands.

The servants’ gifts were unbearably adorable:

sleep masks made of soft silk, indoor slippers lined with fluffy fox fur, glass jars filled with preserves made from fruits considered luxuries in Roxenhart, and more.

Small as they were, each gift had been prepared with utmost sincerity—and as she unwrapped them, her heart grew warm.

And as Yuan, delighted like a child, thanked everyone with sparkling eyes, the servants all clapped wildly, grins stretching ear to ear.

When all the wrapping had been peeled away, and no more gifts remained to open—

Everyone’s gaze turned toward Clade, who stood beside her, endlessly watching her joy with quiet intensity.

Clade gave Butler Gustav a slight gesture.

With precise, dignified motion, Butler Gustav brought forward a rather large box.

Yuan’s eyes widened—as if wondering when he had prepared this.

Unlike the excited reactions around her, Clade received the box with feigned solemnity and placed the white box before Yuan.

Tied with a vivid red ribbon, the box looked, at first glance, like a doll set meant for a little girl.

“What is this?”

“A gift.”

His expression clearly said, “Do you really need to ask?”

His cute sidelong glance and gently upturned lips urged her to open it quickly.

Bolstered by gazes even more expectant than her own, Yuan untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.

Then she stopped breathing.

Neatly folded inside the box lay a dazzlingly white school uniform.

On top of the academy uniform—its collar and cuffs densely embroidered with golden thread—rested a stiffly starched white beret.

The moment Yuan saw the uniform, her eyes flew wide open, as if her heart had stopped.

“Yuan.”

Frozen, unable to even reach out and touch it, Yuan slowly craned her stiff neck upward to look at Clade, who stood beside her, gently gripping her shoulder in the sudden silence.

“This is…”

“Go to the Academy.”

Her breath, halted, rushed in deeply.

Her mouth gaped, still unable to process the hastily drawn-in air.

Clade’s steady, unwavering eyes seized her and gave her a slight shake.

“You said you wanted to live doing what everyone else does, didn’t you? Together.”

“Clade…”

“Do everything you want to do.”

Her trembling eyebrows crumpled. Unable to hold back her tears any longer, Yuan stood and threw her arms around Clade’s neck.

His arms, holding her without faltering, were strong and broad.

Clade pulled her tightly against him as she burst into tears.

“If it gets hard, you can stop anytime.”

“…I won’t stop.”

“If anyone bullies you, tell me immediately.”

“But what if I’m the one bullying others?”

“If you miss me…”

“Could you really be alone without me?”

Her tear-moistened voice, drifting from his nape, reached his ears.

At her question, still spoken in a trembling voice, Clade’s lips curled slightly upward.

“Who said I’d be alone?”

“Then?”

“We’ll meet often. Instead of delaying marriage, we’ll just date. Five years, six years—it’s fine.”

Was this really Clade—the same man who used to grow anxious if she disappeared even briefly, trailing after her like a duckling following its mother? Yuan stared up at his firm cheek in disbelief, then—with a face fuller of emotion than ever before—lightly kissed his cheek and whispered:

“I love you, Clade.”

Unlike Clade, who paid no mind to the stares of others, Yuan—normally cautious even about holding hands in public—had acted impulsively. Clade, who had stiffened rigidly at her sudden gesture, soon scowled slightly and grumbled:

“…If you hadn’t given it, I wouldn’t have loved you at all.”

When she pressed her tear-damp lips again to his pouting mouth, his lips pressed tightly shut.

While everyone stood dazed, overwhelmed by the storm-like gift—

Yuan suddenly came to her senses, quickly wiped her tears, and looked around.

Every flushed face in the room was turned toward her.

Flustered and crimson-cheeked, Yuan froze—until Noel brightly smiled and spoke up.

“N—Now please open my gift too, Yuan.”

With ears burning red, Yuan hurriedly opened Noel’s gift box, which had been hidden beneath the uniform box.

And her eyes, still red and swollen from crying moments before, flew wide open.

“That sly little fox.”

Though he must have clearly heard Clade gritting his teeth and muttering, Noel’s smile remained perfectly beautiful.

“I—I brought it myself, since I hadn’t heard anything. Ah, seems there was some kind of accident.”

Clade muttered curses too quietly for nearby guests to hear.

Unlike moments ago, when he had played the endlessly tender husband, his whispered accusations toward Noel—who now seemed determined to separate the two—were notably sharp.

Noel, who accepted those barbs with a smiling face, was no ordinary man either.

But Lancelot swiftly gauged, amid the party’s thickening warmth and scattered toasts, exactly what Clade had felt when giving Yuan that uniform.

“That brat has grown this much, huh.”

He’d thought Clade would spend his whole life trailing after his wife like a nuisance.

Lancelot, who had been tapping Eddie and boasting that Clade’s dramatic growth was thanks to him, suddenly whipped his head toward Eddie at the lack of response.

“Eddie, now that Clade’s wife—who drives him utterly out of his mind—is going to be away for a while, life must taste swee—wait, what?”

Lancelot’s mouth hung open in shock—he had clearly just seen ‘that’ Eddie Rev swiftly wipe the corner of his eye.

“…Am I dreaming?”

“Shut up.”

After a few false coughs, Eddie downed a glass of champagne in one gulp—then, as tears welled up again, swiped at his eyes with his sleeve.

In that brief moment, Lancelot also saw him mutter, “Damn it. Is inheriting the Marquis Rev title some kind of contagious disease that makes you act foolish?”

“Are you insane?”

“Actually, it’s perfect. Now Clade can finally focus on his work. That guy needs to labor like an ox.”

Watching Eddie grit his teeth and regain composure, Lancelot sincerely wondered whether this entire situation might just be a dream.