## Part One: Birthday Morning
Kaian adjusted his hair in the mirror, studying his reflection.
"You're watching," Claudel observed from the bed.
"Only the hat," she said, her tone provocative.
Something in his chest twisted. His wife had a habit of saying unexpected things that both irritated and delighted him.
Without warning, he grabbed the front of his loose shirt and tore it open on both sides. Buttons scattered. The fabric fell away, exposing his chest.
Claudel's eyes widened, her previous haughtiness vanishing entirely.
"Why do you look like that?" he asked.
"N-nothing. Just... nothing."
She shrugged, flushing with embarrassment.
Kaian felt satisfaction bloom in his chest. He pulled the tattered shirt away completely, letting it fall.
Claudel took a step backward, but not away from him—her gaze had shifted to the mirror behind him. She was looking at his back muscles, reflected in the glass.
Kaian laughed despite himself. She was so transparent.
"Claudel," he called, walking toward her.
She startled, then scrambled backward, hiding behind the bed's support pillar like a sparrow in flight.
"No, I was just joking. Of course! Haha," she stammered from behind the column.
*She ran.*
Kaian swallowed hard as hunting instinct flooded through him.
"You joke too much," he said, advancing.
"I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
He approached the pillar slowly, savoring the moment.
"They say if a joke goes too far, it becomes serious," he murmured.
"No! I mean... every time you give me a gift..." Claudel pressed her forehead against her hands, gripping the pillar. She looked like a cat hiding with its head buried in a bush—utterly endearing and utterly vulnerable.
Kaian almost laughed but restrained himself.
"You embarrass me," she whispered, "but you tease me anyway."
"I never tease you."
"Liar."
He reached across the pillar to grip her shoulders. The thick column hid her face, but he didn't need to see it.
"I'm always serious with you, Claudel."
He kept his voice low, seductive.
Her shoulders trembled beneath his hands.
"Don't you want to see?"
"No. I really don't," she replied, but her voice wavered.
"Look at me."
He placed his hand beneath her chin and gently turned her face toward his. Her cheeks were flushed crimson.
She'd forgotten, apparently, that he was her husband—the man with whom she'd lived in intimate proximity for months.
"I warned you not to provoke me so clumsily," he said, his tone carrying a edge of warning.
She trembled against his lips.
He released her grip on the pillar and pulled her fully into his arms, laying her across the bed. The hat she'd given him for his birthday sat on the nightstand.
"Don't provoke me too much," he whispered, looking down at her.
Before she could respond, he adjusted the wide-brimmed hat, and its shadow fell across her face.
---
## Part Two: Valquiterre's Reflection
The capital's autumn night breeze was chilly. King Valquiterre stood in the hanging gardens, wrapped in a fox-fur coat, looking down at the city's lights.
The night sky spread below him like a spider web of illumination—the most prosperous district in Oberon's kingdom. Above, the Milky Way shone brilliantly across the darkness.
His young eyes were lonely as he drank alone amid earth, sky, and light.
He raised his glass toward the south, toward Rowen.
"Happy birthday, brother."
---
Kaian's birthday had come and gone. Two weeks later would be Valquiterre's own birthday celebration—a festival lasting nearly a week with royal events and balls, the grandest in the kingdom.
Valquiterre had expected Kaian to resist the summoning. His cousin was schemes, stubborn, and hated receiving orders without adequate notice. Kaian preferred being contacted weeks in advance, time organized methodically.
Yet the reply had come: *"I will attend, Your Majesty."*
Even his acceptance was characteristically terse and obligatory.
*"I feel strange,"* Valquiterre murmured. *"Very annoying."*
A letter had arrived—not a telegram—reporting that Kaian was holding his first birthday banquet. The news had been delayed by a week or more in transit, but someone in Rowen had deemed it urgent enough to dispatch a rider to the telegraph office.
Kaian never organized celebrations for himself. After his parents' deaths, he'd abandoned such traditions.
Why now? Why a grand event, hastily arranged?
*"Is it because of her?"*
The woman he'd seen at the lake. Valquiterre had initially thought he'd mistaken her for Princess Irena.
*"Claudel Quinn. She was magnificent."*
His suspicions confirmed when reports arrived: the new Duchess of Temnes, who appeared at the Rowen festival, was so beautiful that the square fell silent. And the woman bitten by a crocodile showed no limp.
For years, Kaian had made excuses to avoid Valquiterre's birthday celebrations. He was on the battlefield, then too busy with estate matters. When Valquiterre hunted in Rowen territory, Kaian would only appear briefly.
Now... now he came immediately when summoned.
*"That woman..."*
Thinking of her, Valquiterre felt something dark and endless expand within him. Dirty. Hopeless.
It felt as though a treasure meant for his hands had been lost, wasted in the wrong place.
*"Kaian, you must not change,"* he whispered fiercely. *"Especially not because of her."*
It had been difficult becoming a perfect leader so young. He'd thought—hoped—that Kaian carried the same weight, the same dark knowledge, the same impossible loneliness.
Valquiterre needed Kaian to remain in darkness, as much as he did.
But if Kaian had changed, Valquiterre needed to see it himself. Not in scattered reports. In person.
*"They say if you don't do something you shouldn't do, it's time to die."*
Valquiterre raised his glass again. The bitter alcohol felt appropriate.
---
## Part Three: Departure
The banquet had ended smoothly. Kaian's vassals and relatives hadn't criticized Claudel for being Vermont—they'd simply stared at her in silence while talking.
Sensing her nervousness, Kaian had held her hand reassuringly. She'd straightened her shoulders and faced them with resolve.
As the evening progressed and drinks flowed, vassals came to introduce themselves, offering Kaian birthday gifts and bowing respectfully to his wife.
*No one expressed anger toward me,* Claudel thought with relief. *No one forced me to bow before them.*
She'd been anxious about the hastily organized celebration, but grateful to attend—not the wedding she'd missed, but something celebrating their union. The castle's hostile atmosphere during her arrival now felt like a distant memory.
The banquet had finally allowed her to shake off that lingering dread.
---
Hannah closed the last trunk with a satisfied grunt.
"Done."
A servant carried away the heavy luggage as Hannah wiped her brow. She'd packed Claudel's travel wardrobe separately from her palace gown, ensuring everything was organized with meticulous care.
"Madame Marcel is handling the ball dress," Hannah said. "I loaded the jewelry into her carriage this morning."
"Thank you."
Hannah's competence shone through every detail. From childhood, she'd been born to serve, and she took each responsibility seriously. If she'd packed incorrectly and Claudel faced embarrassment in the capital, Hannah would never forgive herself.
A knock sounded at the open door. Claudel turned to see Kaian standing in the threshold, impeccably dressed in a gold-embroidered suit with a stylish silk tie.
Even in casual castle clothes, he was handsome. But dressed up like this, he was stunning.
"Shall we go?" He extended his arm.
Claudel moved to take it when Hannah suddenly rushed out.
"Wait! Gloves! And your parasol!"
"Take care of it yourself," Kaian said dismissively.
"Yes, my Lord."
---
As the carriage began moving, Claudel pressed her hand to her chest and sighed.
Until last night, she'd been too excited to sleep—even when Kaian had held her to calm her restlessness. But now, watching Rowen Castle shrink in the distance, she felt a strange loneliness.
"Are you unwell?" Kaian asked, observing her.
"No. I just feel..." She trailed off, her hand still pressed to her chest.
"Your chest?" His eyes narrowed with sudden intensity. "Are you trying to tempt me? We've barely left the grounds."
---