Chapter 150: The Happiest Day
The time for the cake-cutting ceremony had arrived.
Damian stood before the table in the center of the hall. Truth be told, he wondered if there was really any need to cut a cake when he wasn’t a child anymore, but he had given in to Aracila’s insistent pleas.
Apparently, if you didn’t cut the cake on your birthday, the wish-granting fairy wouldn’t appear—or something like that.
In reality, the true reason was that since she had made the cake herself, she wanted Damian to be the one to cut it.
The head chef personally carried out the cake and carefully placed it on the table. The people gathering around began to murmur.
“What is that? The cake looks all messed up.”
“Did someone in the kitchen drop it by mistake?”
“Yeah, they should probably bring a new one.”
Damian’s reaction wasn’t much different.
He hadn’t been informed in advance by Aracila that she had made the cake herself.
“My lady, it seems there was a mishap in procuring the cake.”
“Why? It looks perfectly fine to me.”
“Are you serious? It appears the chef might have accidentally dropped it. If not, perhaps it was made while drunk.”
Damian pointed at the cake, which resembled the face of a devil, and spoke in all earnestness.
Is this a celebratory cake or a cursed one? Similar murmurs echoed among the people.
Up until then, Aracila had been quietly gazing at the cake, but she responded in a calm voice.
“I made it.”
“…Pardon?”
“I said I made it. Because I wanted to celebrate your birthday.”
The moment it was revealed whose hands had birthed the cake, silence fell over the room.
Damian hoped he had misheard, but seeing Aracila’s expression growing increasingly pouty, it seemed unlikely.
Ah, so this is a celebratory cake after all.
The onlookers, sensing the shift, began to flip their earlier comments one by one, as if by agreement.
Saying things like how pretty the cake was, how delicious it looked, or that they had liked it from the start.
Damian, too, quickly changed his tune.
“I meant it looks like a cake where the chef was so moved after making it that he raised a toast of joy in celebration.”
“That doesn’t sound right…”
“Haha, well then, let’s cut the cake.”
As Aracila shot him a suspicious glance, Damian laughed awkwardly and hurriedly picked up the knife. The cake, slathered generously with blood-red strawberry syrup, was sliced in half.
Still, the fortunate part was that it tasted quite decent. Honestly, with an appearance that wouldn’t seem out of place if it poisoned someone.
Next came the gift presentation ceremony. The attendees each offered the gifts they had prepared.
Gloves, sword ornaments, watches, shoes— all sorts of items emerged from the gift boxes.
Aracila, who had been watching anxiously in case there were any duplicates, breathed a sigh of relief. No one had prepared the same thing as her.
“Brother.”
At that moment, from among Marquis Hugo’s family, Adrian shyly stepped forward.
“Here, take this. It’s my gift.”
The boy, who had been hiding both hands behind his back, approached with a bashful face, pressed something firmly into Damian’s hand, and then dashed back behind his father.
Damian checked his hand with a bewildered expression. There lay a small wooden carving in the shape of a person.
“It’s a wooden doll that Adrian carved himself. He says it’s modeled after Sir Vandemir.”
Iris explained in her gentle voice. Since he had made it himself, that was why Adrian was so embarrassed and fidgeting.
Aracila’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected, adorable gift from her younger brother.
“Wow, Ad. You’ve never made one for me before. That’s so unfair.”
“N-no! I’ll make one for you on your birthday too.”
Adrian stammered nervously. Aracila playfully pinched his soft, plump cheek without hurting him.
“Anyway, lately you’ve been liking Damian more than me.”
“I’ve been feeling that too these days. It seems our son respects Damian more than me, doesn’t it?”
The marquis chimed in. Adrian’s face turned as red as an apple. The marchioness looked at her son fondly and drove the point home.
“Ho ho, among our family, Damian is the one receiving the most love from Adrian. It’s enough to make me jealous.”
Damian alternated his gaze between the wooden doll, bearing the marks of clumsy craftsmanship, and Adrian, whose face was flushed up to his neck. A smile spread across his lips.
If he had a younger brother instead of that wretched half-brother with only half his blood, would he have been as lovable as Adrian?
Damian strode over to the back where the marquis stood, met Adrian’s eyes, and said warmly.
“This is the best gift, Adrian.”
“Gasp! B-brother called me by my name!”
As Adrian involuntarily covered his mouth and beamed with joy, the adults burst into laughter.
The grand finale of the gift presentation was Aracila.
She handed Damian a box with a red ribbon and another with a blue ribbon.
“What are these?”
“Go ahead and check.”
Damian opened the red-ribboned box first.
Inside was a top-grade sapphire brooch adorned with diamonds. And it was even shaped like a wizard’s staff.
Damian blinked slowly. Watching him, Aracila cleared her throat softly and asked slyly.
“Do you know what it means when a mage gives someone their staff?”
“I don’t. What does it mean?”
“It means I’m offering my glory to you. It signifies respect for the other person.”
More precisely, it meant reverence, but revealing her personal affection felt too embarrassing, so she softened it appropriately.
She added in a gentle voice, echoing words similar to those Damian had once said to lift her up.
“You are the only knight I respect.”
“…My lady.”
His golden eyes gazed at Aracila, filled with surprise. Damian knew it was rare for someone with as much self-esteem and pride as her to express respect toward another.
Yet, the fact that she was willing to say this in front of everyone meant Aracila truly honored and acknowledged him.
As Damian stared intently at her while clutching the box, Aracila pointed to the neglected blue-ribboned box.
“Now check the other one too.”
“Ah, understood.”
He carefully closed the brooch box as if it were precious and opened the blue-ribboned one. Cufflinks adorned with radiant rubies came into view.
His birth flower, the camellia, was engraved on the buttons.
“They’re splendid.”
“Do you like them?”
“I like them very much.”
At his sincere response, Aracila wore a satisfied expression. The effort she had put into selecting the gifts had paid off.
As Damian was about to cautiously close this box as well, he noticed something tucked beneath the cufflinks and paused.
“This is…….”
“This is my letter, so read it later when you’re alone.”
Aracila whispered at a rapid pace.
She couldn’t possibly reveal the letter in front of everyone. It was written solely for Damian to read.
Damian nodded subtly and closed the box as it was, concealing the letter.
He, who had no recollections of receiving such thoughtful gifts even in his childhood, felt the corners of his mouth loosening into a gentle smile.
Could there be a more perfect birthday party in all the world?
Damian surveyed the people laughing and conversing around him, tightening his grip on his hand. The thought crossed his mind that he might never again experience a birthday celebrated to this extent in his lifetime.
The party didn’t end until late in the evening.
Aracila, having just managed to see off the guests, let out a small yawn. The busyness of the past few days had left her utterly drained.
She dragged her feet as she walked and said,
“Damian, let’s head inside and rest now.”
“…….”
Instead of replying, Damian gazed steadily at Aracila. Though a touch of drowsiness tinged her expression, her blue eyes still held a lingering sparkle.
Hmm, she doesn’t seem like she needs to sleep just yet.
With that assessment, Damian stepped in front of Aracila as she made to ascend the stairs and proposed,
“Would you care to take a stroll before we go in?”
“A stroll at this hour?”
“Yes, consider it the final birthday gift and indulge me with just one loop around the garden.”
His request came with such a serious expression that Aracila, though bemused, nodded agreeably without hesitation.
In a few hours, the birthday will be over, so I should let him do whatever he wants until then.
The pair promptly changed course and headed out to the garden. Bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, the garden emanated an even more enchanting, mystical aura than it did by day.
As night deepened, the air grew noticeably cooler, prompting Aracila to unconsciously rub her arms. Damian, quick to notice, removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“I apologize for dragging you out on a walk when it’s chilly.”
“No, it’s not unbearably cold yet. You don’t need to give me your jacket.”
“I insist. Please keep it on, my lady. It’ll put my mind more at ease.”
If that’s how it is, then. Aracila readjusted the jacket she had begun to slip off her shoulders. The oversized garment wrapped her body in comforting warmth.
As they walked side by side through the serene garden, Aracila broke the silence first.
“How was today? Was the party all right?”
“Yes, it was far more than I deserved.”
Damian responded with genuine sincerity. At that, Aracila drew the jacket tighter around herself and replied without a moment’s pause.
“It wasn’t more than you deserved in the least.”
“…….”
“You’re someone who fully qualifies for that level of celebration.”
Aracila offered a bright smile. Damian regarded her in silence.
Do you realize that you’re the only one who says such things to me?
Damian, who had slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, came to a brief halt. Aracila, stopping a step or two behind him, turned back with a puzzled look.
Pulling something from his pocket, Damian brought his hand to his shirt collar. He had intended to affix it to his jacket, but since he’d given that to Aracila, he’d have to make do with another spot.
A moment later, as he lowered his hand, the staff-shaped brooch gleamed proudly from his collar.
“I’ve tried on the gift that pleased me most today. What do you think?”
He had directed the butler to organize the other guests’ presents, but Aracila’s he had kept with him personally. They were the first gifts from her, making them infinitely precious.
In truth, no matter how lavish any other gift might be, none could match the value of hers.
“Does it suit me?”
“Hmm. Yes, it suits you remarkably well—whoever might have given it.”
Aracila replied with feigned nonchalance. The fact that he was wearing her gift right before her eyes lifted her spirits, causing the corners of her mouth to twitch upward.
Damian, lightly tracing the brooch with his fingertips, spoke in a low voice.
“Truth be told, I dreaded the idea of having this party today.”
Startled by the unexpected admission, Aracila froze for a moment and simply looked at him.
Her gaze held no judgment or reproach, only a quiet patience for what he might say next. It allowed Damian to continue with ease.
“Birthdays have never held much significance for me, and parties like this are just tiresome and chaotic, aren’t they? So I wasn’t particularly eager…”
“…….”
“But the instant I stepped into the hall, I realized that wasn’t the true reason at all.”
An emotion Damian himself had buried in the deepest recesses, one he’d never closely inspected, began to stir and surface.
With Aracila at his side, he could confront it head-on.
“I was simply afraid. Afraid that there might be no one to celebrate my birthday with genuine sincerity.”
There had been a time when he, too, anticipated his birthday with hope.
Wishing that today, of all days, his father would truly see him, that others would place him first above all.
That his mother would smile radiantly, allowing him to taste happiness in turn.
Yet, after repeated betrayals of those hopes, he ceased expecting anything at all. That way, there could be no further wounds.
It wasn’t as if opportunities to mark his birthday had vanished entirely after his mother’s passing. But he had chosen not to seize them, knowing full well that no one would honor the day from the heart.
He stripped birthdays of all meaning, relegating them to mundane occasions. It was simpler for his peace of mind that way.
But today had utterly transformed that perspective.
“Thank you, my lady. Because of you, I’ve experienced a birthday brimming with joy for the very first time.”
Damian bowed with formal grace. It felt as though the birthday stolen from him upon losing his mother had finally been restored today.
“This is the happiest day of my life.”
He smiled with unclouded purity. Aracila couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face, entranced by the brilliant smile she was witnessing for the first time.
Before long, a smile graced her own lips. Seeing the one she cherished so happy filled her with joy in kind.
I hope Damian can smile like this forever.
Harboring that wish, Aracila reached out and took Damian’s hand.
Hand in hand, the two wandered the garden, exchanging soft, intimate conversation. The happiness of that day lingered for a considerable while.
Until, sometime later, a particular piece of news reached Aracila.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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