The sun had only just begun to filter through the castle's stained-glass windows when Blair opened her eyes. The murmur of the wind slipping past the curtains and the distant hum of the capital wrapped her in a strange calm. She had barely slept: between nerves and excitement, her chest was restless. Today wasn't just any day. Today she turned eighteen—and for the first time, she would celebrate her birthday surrounded by friends, far from the shadow of exile.
Stepping out of her room, she ran into Mikan in the corridor. The ninja was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, wearing that mischievous smile that never left her.
—Well, look at that, the birthday girl, —she sing-songed with a tease.— Ready for your "boyfriend" to whip up a tacky surprise?
Blair blushed at once.
—Don't spout nonsense this early.
—Oh, come on, —Mikan pressed, lifting a brow.— I'll bet that brat forgot to get you a present. He probably doesn't even know what day it is.
Blair wanted to retort, but bit her lip. Deep down, the doubt was there. Asori wasn't exactly the detail-oriented type. But something inside her knew that whatever he did—clumsy or improvised—it would be sincere.
When she entered the great hall, the air was heavy with warm, sweet aromas. Fresh-baked bread, melting honey, candied red fruits, spices filling the room like an invisible embrace. Mikrom was already seated at the table, devouring meat with his hands as if at a royal feast. Aisha hid shyly behind a chair, eyes sparkling with excitement.
At the center of the table, Asori was setting down a small improvised cake. His hair had been forced into place, rebellious tufts still peeking out, and though he was simply dressed, it was obvious he'd tried harder than usual.
Seeing her, he smiled nervously.
—Happy birthday, Blair.
She stopped, surprised. On the table sat a sweet bread cake covered in honey and decorated with wildflowers. It wasn't a banquet fit for court, but the effort was evident, palpable in every tender, awkward detail.
—Did… you make it? —she asked, stepping closer.
—Well… —Asori scratched his nape, ears blazing red.— Master Corbin in the kitchen helped, but the idea was mine.
Warmth spread through Blair's chest. No palace banquet could ever compare to that gesture. She smiled and sat beside him.
—It's perfect.
Mikan poked her head in from the back with a wicked little laugh.
—And the gift? Or did you forget, "Champion of the Capital"?
Asori turned tomato red.
—I didn't forget! I just… well… —he pulled from his pocket a small bunch of poorly cut flowers, some already a bit wilted.— I didn't have much time.
Blair took them delicately, as if they were a treasure.
—Thank you, Asori… it's the best gift.
He exhaled in relief—right as Mikrom muttered with a smirk:
—I figured the gift would be a special birthday training session.
Blair shot him a death glare while Mikan doubled over laughing. The tension of the past days unraveled into easy laughter.
They all sat, and breakfast began amid jokes and light chatter. Mikrom toasted with his mug of wine to "the new adult of the house," Mikan kept inventing ridiculous nicknames for Blair like "Her Majesty Birthday" and "Princess Cupcake." Aisha just watched, happy, as if she'd never seen a group so united.
Asori, clumsy but determined, served plates and even tried carving meat for everyone—prompting Mikan to nearly choke with laughter when he smeared his hands. Blair, meanwhile, watched him more than once in silence, noticing those small gestures that set him apart: how he tried to help, how he smiled sincerely despite his awkwardness, how his eyes always drifted toward her, as if seeking her approval.
After breakfast, Blair suddenly stood, a spark in her eyes.
—Wait. Today isn't just my birthday.
Asori blinked, confused.
—Huh?
—It was yours too… during the tournament. —She pointed at him, firm.— Aisha told me yesterday.
His eyes flew wide and he glanced at the girl, who shrank shyly in her chair.
—Aisha…!
She lowered her head, nervous, but spoke softly:
—You told me yourself, master. You said your birthday fell in the middle of the tournament… and you didn't celebrate because, since your parents died, you never celebrated again.
Silence settled heavy for a moment. Asori swallowed, surprised she had revealed something he'd kept for so long.
Blair, however, stepped toward him with resolve.
—That's exactly why, Asori. —Her tone softened, yet carried strength.— You're not alone anymore. I'm not going to let you ignore anything else in your life—your birthday or any other important day.
Asori pressed his lips together, a knot rising in his throat. The warmth of those words hit harder than any punch. For the first time in a long while, he understood he had a place, a reason—and people who saw him as someone valuable.
—Blair… —he whispered, moved.
She smiled gently.
—So today we'll celebrate your birthday too. Whether you like it or not.
Mikan snapped her fingers, wearing a roguish grin.
—Yes! Double party! Though sorry, shrub—your cake definitely won't be as pretty.
Mikrom raised his mug again.
—A toast to the brat who made us quake in the arena. You almost died, but at least you did it in style.
Asori rolled his eyes but couldn't help laughing.
Aisha, who had been hiding, stepped forward timidly with a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
—H-happy birthday, master…
Asori opened it to find a braided thread bracelet, handmade. He studied it for a few seconds and, seeing the girl's nervous face, smiled tenderly.
—Thank you, Aisha. I'll wear it always.
Blair watched, moved. He was no longer the surly boy from the forest. He had learned to care, to be grateful, to look at others with respect and warmth.
The rest of the morning passed with improvised games, toasts with fruit juice, more of Mikan's jokes—she didn't miss the chance to try putting a ridiculous hat on Asori—and the hush of feeling far from war, if only for a day.
When the celebration ended and everyone drifted off, Blair took Asori's hand with an unexpectedly firm gesture. He barely managed a nervous laugh before letting himself be tugged through the castle corridors. Only when they reached a secluded corner, in front of a window bathed in the soft light of dawn, did she stop.
Silence stretched. Blair kept her fingers intertwined with his but avoided looking directly at him. Her breathing was uneven, as if she were mustering the courage for something she'd kept inside for a long time.
—I want to ask you something… —she said at last, barely above a whisper.
Asori tilted his head, puzzled.
—What is it?
Blair swallowed, and when she lifted her gaze, her cheeks were burning with a fierce blush.
—I want you to… share a room with me from now on.
Asori's heart lurched. Heat rushed to his ears, his throat closing up.
—W-what? W-what are you saying?
Blair looked away, hugging herself slightly as if shielding her confession.
—I still have nightmares… about Kael, —she murmured, voice trembling faintly.— I don't want to be alone. And you… —her fingers tightened around his— you make me feel safe. I can't pretend I don't miss you when you're not there. We spent so much time together in the capital that now… when I lie down alone, I feel a void.
He looked at her in silence, chest tight. This wasn't the strong, defiant princess everyone saw, but Blair—the young woman who still shook with lingering shadows of fear. And yet, in that vulnerability was immense trust: she was trusting him.
—Blair… —he murmured, voice rough, and nodded slowly.— If it helps you, if it gives you peace… of course. I don't mind.
She finally lifted her eyes, and amid the uncertainty bloomed a shy, lovely smile that disarmed him.
—Besides… —her cheeks flushed even hotter— I don't dislike the idea of sleeping in your arms.
He nearly choked on air, stumbling back a step.
—Blair!
She laughed softly—that sweet laugh that seemed to cut through any tension. And watching him grow flustered, she knew she was telling the truth: yes, she was afraid, but stronger than that fear was the desire to be at his side. Not only as refuge. Also as a woman who, at last, could allow herself to love someone.
Asori ran a hand over his nape, still red to the ears.
—Just… promise you won't bite me while I'm asleep, —he joked, trying to regain composure.
Blair arched a brow, amused, stepping close enough that her breath brushed his face.
—Depends… —she whispered, playful.— What if I don't stop at biting?
Asori's eyes went wide, petrified for a heartbeat, until she let out a mischievous giggle and gave his shoulder a gentle push.
And in that sunlit corridor—between laughter, blushes, and tenderness—they both understood what their lips hadn't yet said aloud: their hearts had chosen each other long before this moment.