Sevika was turning forty.

Forty.

For some, it was a milestone birthday, but for her? It was just another day that hurt a little more than usual.

The last time she had celebrated her birthday was when thirty years ago, when she had turned ten. She had a cake, she’d even gotten some flowers and a Teddy Bear.

It was the first and last time she’d tried chocolate. She loved it, but would never tell anybody.

She was working late so she didn’t have to be alone with her thoughts. She was sitting in her desk chair, holding her head in one hand and her second glass of Whisky in the other, mechanical hand. She was pouring over a small stack of paperwork.

I wish someone knew it was my birthday. She found herself thinking, only to hit herself with the heel of her natural palm. She was a Councillor and before that Silco’s right hand, and a Forty year old woman who could speak three languages.

And here she was, feeling disappointed that nobody knew it was her birthday.

Then, you, her assistant, kicked the door open with a light laugh. You were holding what seemed to be a chocolate cake in one hand, a card in your teeth, and a bouquet already in a vase because you knew she didn’t have any.

They were Tiger Lilies.

Sevika was shocked, and it showed.

“So, I couldn’t get forty candles on the cake, but I can try, if you want forty candles?” You say, walking into the room, not noticing the tear that slid down Sevika’s cheek.