Chapter 26 Birthday Surprises
DAHLIA
I woke before the children that morning, the soft golden light of dawn spilling across the palace. Even after all these weeks, I still couldn’t get used to waking up in a bed that didn’t creak under its own age, in a palace filled with silence that wasn’t really empty.
My three little ones were curled up in their beds, their breaths slow and even, and for a moment, I allowed myself to simply watch them, memorizing every curve of their tiny faces.
Today was special. Today was their birthday. Thirteen full moons since the chaos of last year.
I’d kept track of every milestone, every first smile and first step. I wanted this day to feel safe, warm, and magical for them, even if the weight of secrets I carried made my heart ache.
“Mommy?” Liam’s voice broke the stillness, soft and sleepy. “Is it time?”
I turned to see all three of them rubbing their eyes, Lily tugging at her blanket, and little Libby blinking up at me like she’d just woken from the sweetest dream. My chest warmed at the sight. “Yes, my loves,” I whispered. “It’s your special day.”
They squealed in unison, rushing toward me, tiny hands wrapping around my waist. I laughed, hugging them close. “Breakfast first,” I said, though I knew their eyes were already shining with excitement. Today, pancakes were sprinkled with colored sugar and topped with berries not because they cared about sugar, but because I wanted every detail to feel like a celebration.
After breakfast, I led them into the main hall, which I had decorated quietly the night before. Streamers hung from the golden arches, balloons swayed gently, and a table at the center gleamed with wrapped gifts. I bit my lip, watching their little faces light up with wonder.
“Mommy, look!” Lily ran ahead, pointing at the decorations. “Did daddy do this?”
I smiled faintly. I hadn’t expected him to intervene. In all the weeks we’d been here, he had been… distant, commanding, focused on the affairs of his kingdom. But as the children approached the table, I noticed the smallest flicker of satisfaction in his amber eyes.
“Go ahead,” I said softly, gesturing toward the gifts. “Open them.”
Liam grabbed the nearest box, tearing at the wrapping with fierce determination. His roar of triumph when he revealed a tiny, exquisitely carved wooden sword made me laugh, despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
Lily’s gift was a beautiful set of paints, each color more vibrant than the last.
Libby’s gift was a small plush wolf, its fur impossibly soft. I watched as she hugged it to her chest, her eyes bright with joy.
And then there were more gifts, larger ones, more ornate than anything I had imagined. My gaze shifted to Dagnoth, who stood quietly in the corner, observing the scene with a careful intensity.
He didn’t speak, didn’t offer a word of congratulations, yet the thought behind each gift a careful consideration of what the children would love was unmistakable.
“Thank you, Dagnoth,” I said, my voice low, carrying both gratitude and something else I couldn’t quite name. He nodded, expression unreadable, though his eyes lingered on the children just a moment too long.
Liam, not waiting for permission, ran over to him. “Daddy?” he asked, voice tentative, eyes shining with hope.
I sighed quietly, feeling the weight of the lie settle over me like a shadow. My children deserved joy, deserved to feel safe and loved, and today, I would make sure they did even if it meant bending the truth.
Dagnoth, standing nearby, didn’t comment on my correction. Instead, he knelt slightly to meet their eyes. “Happy Birthday,” he said, voice low but carrying an authority that made them both quiet in awe. “You are strong, brave, and destined for great things.”
My heart swelled. The words were simple, but the weight behind them coming from him made my chest ache. I watched the children beam, absorbing every syllable, completely oblivious to the complexity that hung around us like a storm cloud.
“Can we play?” Lily asked, practically bouncing in place.
I nodded, helping them arrange the hall for games, races, and little challenges I’d planned. Even though I knew Dagnoth was watching, I allowed myself to relax slightly, focusing on their laughter and cheer. I laughed with them, forgetting, for fleeting moments, the dangers that surrounded us.
Later, after games and running around, we returned to the table for cake. A massive, multi-layered creation sat there, decorated with flowers and topped with tiny wolf figurines that looked almost alive.The children’s eyes went wide, and I felt a warmth in my chest that made the ache I carried ease, if only for a moment.
As they dug into the cake, I caught Dagnoth’s gaze again. He wasn’t smiling, not exactly, but there was something in his expression a softness I rarely saw.
“Mommy,” Liam said, crumbs around his mouth, “does daddy always give the best gifts?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Only when he wants to.” I glanced at him, and in that fleeting moment, I almost allowed myself to think that maybe, just maybe, he understood more than I believed.
Libby climbed onto my lap, resting his head against my shoulder. “I love today, Mommy,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
The simple words brought tears to my eyes. I hugged her close, feeling every pulse of my heart tethered to these three little lives.
For them, I would fight. For them, I would endure. And even if my heart ached in secret for Dagnoth, I would push that aside. Today was about joy, laughter, and love that was untainted by war, politics, or danger.
I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or what dangers lurked beyond these walls. But today, the world was simple, bright, and warm and I could let myself revel in that, even for a little while.
The children’s laughter rang out, Dagnoth stood silently observing, and for the first time, I allowed myself a small, genuine smile. Maybe, just maybe, some bonds were stronger than even fear could break.