Reina's 18th Birthday Gala
The grand ballroom of the Astrea Ducal Residence glittered so dazzlingly it hurt the eyes for Reina's 18th birthday party. Massive crystal chandeliers adorned the ceiling, pouring out blinding light, while the scent of top-shelf perfumes from across the empire mingled with the orchestra's strains, forcibly stirring the heavy air.
At the center of the ballroom, on the tallest dais, stood the empire's greatest sword, Reina de Astrea, who had just turned exactly 18—the age of adulthood.
She was the type who stubbornly stuck to drab, travel-worn leather armor perpetually stained with dirt and monster blood. But not tonight. A pure white silk dress boldly exposed her shoulders and collarbone, hugging her slender, elegantly curved figure so precariously it was impossible to believe she harbored the brute strength to split continents. Her long silver hair, usually carelessly swept back by hand and left in a tangled mess, had been meticulously tended by the maids today, flowing smoothly down to her lower back. Like moonlight woven from shattered shards, it broke into radiant fragments with every step under the chandelier's glow.
Her transparently pale, flawless skin framed those cool, inorganic purple eyes—eyes that only ever sparked to life when fixed on me—which now gazed indifferently down at the nobles. Even my reason, accustomed only to her beastly, battlefield-grimed form, froze for a moment. The woman on that dais was breathtakingly overwhelming, like a delicate glass doll crafted by the empire's finest artisan.
So it was no wonder the men swarmed her like rutting beasts. Heirs from the empire's top houses buzzed around like flies, plastering on fake smiles and empty praise.
I lingered far from the chaotic center, in a corner of the ballroom leaning against a marble pillar, fiddling with my champagne flute. I'd come as Reina's exclusive squire, but I had zero interest in meddling in noble power plays or courtship games.
"Oh my, aren't you the heir to the Evans barony?"
Sweet perfume wafted over as three noble ladies approached, fans fluttering dramatically.
"We heard you shadow Lady Reina like her very shadow. What sort of man is the hero up close?"
"Hehe, Young Master Cadel is far more refined and handsome than the rumors suggest. Might you dance the next song with me...?"
Their intentions were obvious. Probe for Reina intel through me, the duke's real gatekeeper, or forge ties to House Evans. After lifetimes of dealing with pushy parents and high school girls' petty mind games, their serpentine tongues and phony smiles were child's play.
I flashed a politely measured smile and deflected smoothly. "You're too kind, miladies. I'm just—"
Crash!
Before I could finish, a glass shattered sharply from a table beyond the pillar, slicing through the ballroom's murmur. The chatter died instantly.
Thinking it some clumsy mishap, I turned—then a chill raced up my spine, stealing my breath. Reina, who should have been on the dais, had descended and now stood rigidly facing me. The young lords around her backed away, faces drained white.
Her purple eyes ignored the men addressing her, locking onto the ladies around me with feral intensity.
The air grew heavy. No—literally, the weight of space itself began crushing down.
"Eek!"
One lady before me dropped her wine glass. But the spilled red liquid didn't hit the floor. It beaded into droplets, bizarrely floating upward like in zero gravity.
The massive chandelier shook wildly without a breath of wind, screeching in protest. Nobles clutched their throats, gasping under invisible pressure.
It was just like ten years ago—that savage gravity rampage that pulverized the forest. The 18-year-old yandere had zero patience for me glancing at other women, even with her leash in my hand.
"...This is insane."
I set my champagne on a nearby table and strode through the crushing gravity field, weaving past screams and chaos straight to the murderous Reina.
Grab.
I roughly seized her slender wrist. "Come with me."
The moment my body heat touched her, the floating wine droplets crashed noisily to the floor. Before more eyes could turn, I yanked her wrist and kicked open the terrace doors at the back of the ballroom.
We ended up in the deserted glass greenhouse of the ducal estate. Moonlight flooded the dark space, thick with earthy soil and wildflower scents.
"You really... gonna pull this crap even on your coming-of-age day?" I released her wrist and pinched my brow.
Reina ducked her head like a caught kid, then pouted and clutched my tuxedo sleeve tight. "You looked at them first."
"I was just answering when they spoke to me. You planning to squash every noble every time?"
"...Tch."
She pursed her lips but gripped my sleeve harder, like she'd never let go. Under her moonlit silver hair fracturing into light, her scowling glare etched itself into my vision like a painting. No hint of remorse in those resentful purple eyes, but even that petulant expression was eerily beautiful.
Pale moonlight caressed her graceful features and white nape, nearly stopping my breath unguarded.
How the hell do you handle a monster this overwhelmingly, blindly beautiful?
My half-century of life experience—past life included—shook helplessly before this 18-year-old brat's poignant allure. Shaking off her chilling spell, I sighed in surrender and shook my head.
"...Let go. And give me your hand."
"...Why."
Despite my scolding, she eyed me suspiciously, refusing to release my sleeve. I fished a small black velvet box from my tuxedo's inner pocket.
Reina's purple eyes widened with curiosity, her hand slipping free.
I opened the lid, revealing a pair of luxurious obsidian-hued leather gloves gleaming in the moonlight.
"Your 18th birthday gift. From me."
She gasped as I held them out.
"Dwarf artisans specially mana-treated dragon leather. It disperses and absorbs the wearer's kinetic energy. With these, you won't smash doorknobs or snap tables with your nails."
I took her right hand and carefully fitted the glove. The supple yet tough leather enveloped her small hand perfectly.
"Wear them always. In front of others, obviously—and even when eating with me. Only off for bathing or fighting."
"......"
"Don't take them off in daily life until you hand them back to me. That's an order—and a request."
With these, even if she lost control and hugged me, my ribs were safe. Perfect insurance for her, my survival, and controlling future outbursts.
Once gloved, Reina stared at her hands, entranced. She clenched and unclenched her fists, savoring the smooth leather.
No flashy jewels or legendary sword. This was consideration to keep her from hurting me—and Cadel's physical collar, forever binding Reina.
Her shoulders trembled faintly. Heat flickered in those cool eyes. She hummed softly, happily fiddling with the gloved hands.
"...Cadel."
"Yeah. Happy birthday, now you're a grown—"
Whoosh.
Her gloved hands shot up, seizing my tuxedo lapels. The monstrous grip was gone, muted by magic, but the blind ferocity yanking me close was pure beast.
"H-Hey."
My torso pitched forward helplessly. Our 15cm height gap. On tiptoes, her silver hair cascaded, filling my view.
Smack.
Hot, soft lips brushed mine and pulled away. A split-second. Before my brain caught up, champagne-sweet breath grazed my nose.
I froze like stone.
Staring at my wide-eyed, breathless, flushed face, Reina stroked my chest with her new gloved hand.
Bathed in moonlight, the 18-year-old hero smiled with crescent eyes and whispered, "Now that I'm an adult..."
The naive, senseless child was dead. Those red lips nearing my chin glowed with intimate danger—a monster fully matured, declaring war.
