The nobles who had been watching warmly as the Arachrene heirs approached the little girl with their gifts now stared with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Some couldn’t even close their mouths.
A Serinel? For a four-year-old’s birthday?
What on earth were they planning to give her when she was older?
But Riersha, who had no way of knowing any of this, simply smiled her brightest smile.
She would only come to learn what a Serinel truly was much later.
“Thank you, oppahs. When I’m bigger, I’ll give you something really cool too!”
“I’m truly looking forward to that, Riersha.”
“Hmph. Keep your snotty little gifts to yourself.”
Riscal grumbled, though the corners of his mouth curved upward despite himself.
Ricador shook his head slowly at his brother’s stubborn inability to be honest about his feelings.
That day, Riersha received a great many gifts from a great many people — not only her family, but guests from near and far.
Duke Marcella presented her with Tears of a Mermaid, one of the most prized masterworks in the entire Declair Empire.
Milia, freshly returned from an uninhabited island, brought back the core of a wyvern — known to the islanders as the Guardian of the Isle — and offered it as her gift.
And Johannes quietly slipped away a piece of Aquastone, a gem found only deep within mountain ranges, said to keep its bearer perfectly cool through even the hottest of summers.
And so, Riersha’s birthday came to a close.
⁂
Deep in the night.
The birthday party had long since ended, and Riersha was moving through the darkness with the utmost secrecy.
She kept her small body low to the ground, darting her eyes in every direction in case someone might spot her.
In the shadows, her bright red eyes narrowed to careful slits.
“Good. Nobody’s here.”
“…My lady, if we get caught, the young lord is going to scold you terribly.”
Sona said this with a face full of worry.
“It’s not too late to turn back. Please, let’s just go.”
“Don’t worry. We won’t get caught. Because Sona’s here.”
Riersha gave a confident thumbs-up, not a trace of doubt on her face.
Sona watched her and fell into a quiet internal struggle.
Was she supposed to feel flattered by this, or not?
She let out a long, weary sigh.
“…Haah. That’s all well and good, but still…”
What truly worried her was the thought of Pernoa finding out and scolding Riersha severely.
The two of them had, after all, just snuck into the castle where Isierd was kept.
She even prepared a cake for this. Is she really this invested in that child?
Sona glanced down at the cake box in her arms.
“Sona, you stay here and keep watch. If anyone comes, let me know. Understand?”
“Yes, Miss Riersha.”
Sona gave a reluctant nod.
At this point, the best she could do was make sure they got back without being seen by anyone.
“Give me the cake.”
“Yes. Here you are, my lady.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Sona handed over the cake box.
Riersha received it with both small hands and began to move forward, placing each step with deliberate care.
In truth, Riersha had never intended to go this far.
But…
On a night like tonight, Isierd will be alone.
Surely Isierd knew the ducal estate was full of noise and celebration. The whole house was alive with festivity — and somewhere inside it, Isierd was sitting alone, apart from all of it. The thought settled uncomfortably in her chest.
Riersha knocked on the door, very softly.
“Isierd.”
Silence.
“Isierd!”
Was he asleep?
Even after a long moment, the room beyond remained perfectly quiet.
Should I just go back?
She was staring down at the cake box, weighing the decision, when the door finally opened — slowly and without a sound.
A boy appeared.
Isierd.
Riersha blinked up at him with wide, startled eyes.
She had almost not recognized him.
He looked so different from the first time they had met.
She stared at him for a moment before she found her voice.
“Hi.”
“…”
“I came to eat this with you.”
She pointed at the cake box.
His pale blue eyes drifted quietly down to it.
Then Isierd took a single step back and pulled the door open wide.
“Thank you.”
With the room’s owner giving his permission, Riersha stepped inside with a bright smile.
The room where Isierd lived felt sparse — almost bare — in a way that was difficult to look at.
“How have you been?”
“…”
“Did you miss me?”
She tossed out the question to fill the awkward quiet.
“Yeah.”
Isierd answered.
“…Huh?”
Riersha blinked, caught off guard.
She had fully expected to be ignored again, like before.
In her surprise, she nearly dropped the cake box — and Isierd reached out and caught it for her.
“What’s this?”
“…Oh. It’s a cake.”
“Cake?”
He repeated the word with an uncertain pronunciation, as though tasting it for the first time.
He didn’t seem to know what a cake was.
“Yeah. It’s something you eat on birthdays.”
“…”
“Today is my birthday, you know.”
“Oh.”
Understanding crossed Isierd’s face then, slowly and quietly.
It seemed no one had bothered to tell him why the ducal estate had been so noisy and festive lately.
Riersha felt something tighten in her chest at that.
The people in this house didn’t tell him anything they didn’t think he needed to know.
“When is your birthday, Isierd?”
“…It already passed.”
He sat down stiffly beside her as he answered.
Riersha opened the box, and a round, cheerfully decorated cake came into view — covered in sweets and small confections, the kind a young child would adore.
Isierd’s eyes lit with open curiosity.
“Have you ever had sweets before?”
“No.”
“Then today’s going to be great.”
Riersha passed him a fork from inside the box.
She demonstrated how to eat the cake, gesturing for him to follow along, and Isierd slowly, carefully mimicked her.
The moment the cake touched his tongue, his eyes went wide.
He kept eating, quietly but steadily, and Riersha watched him with a deep, warm satisfaction.
It had been worth sneaking out.
“Is it good?”
“…Yeah. It’s good.”
“Normally you’re supposed to put candles in it and blow them out…”
Riersha launched into an explanation, and Isierd listened with complete attention.
He had clearly never known about the tradition of birthday candles — counting out one for each year of your life and blowing them out. He listened to every word with quiet, genuine wonder.
It was a shame she hadn’t thought to bring the candles.
“Let’s eat together next time too.”
“Next time?”
“Yeah. On your birthday.”
Riersha nodded as she said it, and Isierd’s expression shifted — a flicker of something surprised and uncertain crossing his face.
He hadn’t expected her to remember his birthday. To celebrate it.
“Why?”
“…Hm?”
“Why would you celebrate my birthday?”
He asked it sincerely, with the kind of genuine confusion that had no pretense behind it.
Even his own parents had never celebrated his birthday. The idea that Riersha would do so made no sense to him.
Riersha looked at him quietly for a moment, then opened her mouth.
Her voice rang out clearly in the still room.
“Because it’s the day you were born.”
“…”
“And I’ll get you a present too.”
“…”
“We said we’d be friends, remember?”
Riersha smiled brightly, and Isierd dropped his gaze, murmuring softly.
“Friends…”
“Yeah. Friends.”
Silence settled between them again.
Isierd seemed lost in thought.
As the quiet stretched on, Riersha glanced around the room, looking for something to say.
Come to think of it…
“Did you read all the books I gave you?”
“…Yeah.”
“Good.”
It hadn’t been a small number of books — the fact that he’d already finished them all told her they must have suited him.
What should I bring next time?
She was still thinking it over when Isierd spoke.
“It’s the first time.”
“…”
“A gift. A cake.” He looked at her steadily. “It’s all the first time.”
For a moment, Riersha couldn’t find any words.
She hadn’t thought about it — that the things she had offered so casually could be someone else’s very first. The realization settled over her strangely, like something soft pressing against her chest.
Maybe that was why.
“From now on… I’ll do all the things with you that you’ve never gotten to do.”
“…”
“Because we’re friends.”
The promise slipped out before Riersha even knew she was making it.
