14. Four Years Later
Four years later, morning dawned. But my world was still pitch-black night. The face staring back from the mirror was a total wreck. My eyes were puffy like bloated goldfish from crying all night, and my complexion was ghostly pale. Anyone could see "I'm getting kicked out today" written all over it.
"Hoo..."
I let out a deep sigh and packed my things. Not that there was much. The blue ribbon the Young Master bought me, my worn training gloves, and the ragged outfit I'd arrived in. 'This'll do.' Everything else was given to me by the Lord and the Young Master. I had to leave it behind. Taking it might get me called a thief.
Knock knock.
"Seria, are you up?"
It was the Head Maid's voice. Here it comes. With trembling hands, I gripped the doorknob. Probably, the moment I opened it, she'd have that awkward look and say, "The Lord wants to see you." Then in the study, he'd hand me a bit of severance and tell me to leave.
"Yes, coming out."
I forced my voice steady and opened the door.
"Oh my, Seria. What happened to your eyes?"
The auntie asked with wide eyes. But in her gaze, worry took a backseat to some strange anticipation. Yeah, everyone knew. That I was leaving today.
"It's nothing. Just a bad night's sleep..."
"Really? Then hurry to the dining hall. The Young Master's waiting."
"...Yes."
I dragged my feet like a cow headed to slaughter. My heart pounded the whole way down the corridor. This would be the last time walking these halls. The paintings on the walls, the sunlight streaming through the windows—all gone.
I reached the dining hall door. It was dead silent inside.
'They're preparing the farewell, huh.'
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
"Sorry I'm lat—"
It happened in that instant.
Bang! Pop!
"Kyaa?!"
Fireworks exploded above my head out of nowhere. Colored confetti rained down like snow. I nearly collapsed in shock.
"Happy birthday!!!"
"...Huh?"
I blankly looked up. My mind went white at the scene before me. The dining hall was decked out lavishly. Balloons and ribbons dangled from the ceiling, and the table overflowed with delicacies. And right in the center...
"Seria! Happy birthday!"
The Young Master, wearing a party hat, grinned brightly while holding a huge cake. The Lord, the Head Maid, even Guard Captain Mason—all in party hats, clapping away.
"Birth... day?"
The dumb word slipped from my mouth.
"Whose... birthday?"
"Who else? It's your birthday, Seria!"
The Lord chuckled as he approached.
"Today marks exactly when you came to our home. So we decided to make it your official birthday!"
"What? B-but I..."
"Come on, blow out the candles! Make a wish!"
The Young Master shoved the cake right under my nose. It was my absolute favorite—white cream loaded with chocolate chips. The candle flames flickered. The Young Master's eyes shone warmer than the light.
"Seria, what are you doing? Blow!"
"Ah..."
That's when it hit me. I wasn't getting kicked out. I wasn't being abandoned. The Young Master had avoided me not because he hated me, but to prepare this.
Tension snapped loose. My legs gave out, and I plopped right down.
And then.
"Waaahhh!!!!"
The tears I'd held back burst like a broken dam.
"Waaah! Hic! Sniff!"
"Wha—?! Seria?!"
The Young Master panicked, set down the cake, and rushed over. The Lord, the maids—everyone buzzed in surprise.
"What's wrong?! Are you hurt? Crying from joy?"
"Nooo! Waaah! I thought—I thought I was getting kicked out!"
"What?"
"The Young Master avoided me for a week! Wouldn't eat with me! So I thought, waaah! You were abandoning me!"
I bawled like a baby, face be damned. Collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Grief and relief tangled up inside me.
"Oh dear."
The Head Maid pulled me into a hug.
"Seria, why would we kick you out? We love you so much."
"B-but, hic, I thought the Young Master hated me..."
Pfft.
The Young Master suddenly snickered.
"Hey, Seria! You're such an idiot. Why would I hate you? You're my escort knight!"
"Ugh... You're the bad one, Young Master! You could've said something!"
"It was a surprise! Sorry for the misunderstanding, though."
He giggled, wiping my tears and snot with a handkerchief. That "you're so cute I could die" look was a bit annoying.
The Lord chuckled heartily and patted my head.
"Seria, there's only one way you leave this house."
"Wh-what's that, hic?"
"When you get married. Until then, don't even dream of it."
"Waaah! My Lord!"
I clung to his leg and cried another round. Everyone laughed and comforted me. It was warm. Like I really had a family.
It took a while to calm down. My eyes were even puffier now, half-blind.
"Alright, now blow out the candles for real. The cake's melting."
The Young Master brought the cake back. I sniffled and blew.
Fwoosh.
Cheers and applause erupted.
"Now, gift time!"
The Lord gave me a pretty new dress; the maids handed over handmade scarves and accessories. I hugged them, repeating "Thank you, thank you."
And finally.
"Here, my gift."
The Young Master pulled something from behind his back. Long and wrapped tight in cloth.
"What's this?"
"Unwrap it."
I carefully peeled back the cloth. Inside was a dark brown wooden sword. Smoothly polished blade, handle carved to fit my grip perfectly, leather cord wrapped to prevent slipping. But what caught my eye was the clumsy engraving at the base of the blade.
[Seria]
"...This."
"I carved it myself. Hiked to the back hills for the wood, nearly died sneaking into Dad's study basement to whittle it."
The Young Master rubbed his nose sheepishly.
"That's why I avoided you. Didn't want to spoil the surprise."
"You... made it yourself?"
I gripped the wooden sword. It fit like a glove, unbelievably perfect. The balance was spot-on. I could feel how much thought and care he'd poured into it. That's when I noticed the bandages on his fingers.
"Ah..."
I thought I'd cried it all out, but tears welled up again.
"Wha—hey! Crying again?"
The Young Master freaked.
"Don't like it? It's a bit crooked in places..."
"No... hic."
I shook my head fiercely.
"I love it so much... Thank you so much..."
"Aigoo, my crybaby knight."
He snickered, then pulled me into a hug. Small arms, but sturdier and warmer than any other. His hand patted my back soothingly.
"Don't cry, Seria. It's a happy day."
"Y-yes... sniff."
"And use it forever. No breaking it."
"Yes. I'll treasure it as a heirloom. Take it to my grave."
"Ugh, there you go again."
The Young Master's scent. Sweet cake and fresh wood, all cozy. I buried my face in his shoulder and wiped my tears.
"Happy birthday, Seria."
"...Thank you, Young Master."
My first birthday wish ever. And my one-of-a-kind sword. That day, I swore it. Even if this wooden sword breaks or my body shatters, I'd protect these people who cried and laughed for me—forever.
Of course, scarfing five cake slices and getting a stomachache—with the Young Master rubbing my belly all night—is our little secret.
—
Time flies like an arrow, they say. In the blink of an eye, four more years passed. I was ten now, Seria twelve. And in those four years, a lot had changed for us.
The biggest change? Seria, hands down.
"Hah! Yah!"
In the Lord's Castle courtyard. With each kiai, her black hair whipped around. Seria swung her wooden sword. The same dark brown one I'd given her as a birthday gift four years ago. The leather grip had worn out and been rewound several times, but she stubbornly stuck with it.
'She's grown so much.'
I propped my chin on my hand from the bench, watching her. The baby fat on her cheeks was gone, her jawline sharp. She'd shot up like a beanstalk, limbs long and lean. Especially her looks—they'd leveled up big time. She was pretty before, but now? Stunning. Her ponytail gleamed jet-black in the sun. Those big, double-lidded eyes with ruby irises gave off a cool beauty vibe. Standing still, she'd make passersby do double-takes.
The problem was...
"Fhew."
Seria finished training and approached. She wiped sweat and stood before me.
"Young Master, don't just watch. Train with me."
"Nah. Too bothersome."
I shook my head and looked up at her.
Yeah. 'Looked up.' That was the issue.
"...You grew again?"
"Yes. One centimeter taller than last month."
Seria beamed proudly.
Damn. Four years back, we were pretty even... okay, she was a bit taller, but not by much. Now? A full head difference.
Girls grow faster young, sure, but...
I grumbled, pouty.
"What're you eating to grow like that? We eat the same stuff."
"You're a picky eater, Young Master. You skip milk and anchovies."
"Milk's fishy, anchovies stare back."
"That's why you don't grow."
Seria sighed, then smirked down at my head, waving her hand in the air above it.
"The air up here's so fresh. You should feel this crispness too, Young Master."
"Hey."