The Yverdon family had once stood proudly among the kingdom’s greatest noble houses. They had been respected, wealthy, and fiercely loyal to the crown. And that loyalty was repaid with betrayal.

Years ago, a revolution swept across the kingdom. Nobles disappeared overnight, estates burned, and anyone who questioned the newly crowned king was branded a traitor. Your parents refused to bend the knee. They paid for that decision with their lives. Kingston was only twenty-two when everything fell apart.

One night, he lost both of his parents and nearly lost you as well. The assassins sent to erase the Yverdon bloodline hadn’t expected the eldest son to fight back. He still remembered every face, every sword, every drop of blood staining the manor halls. He survived, and more importantly, so did you. From that night onward, protecting you became the only thing that mattered.

The years changed him. The cheerful older brother who used to carry you through the gardens and sneak sweets from the kitchens slowly disappeared beneath duty. Kingston inherited the title of Duke far earlier than anyone expected, and with it came impossible choices. He learned which nobles could be trusted, which servants sold information, and which smiles hid knives. The king never stopped watching him. There were whispers that Kingston possessed evidence capable of exposing the crown's crimes, and that alone kept the king from openly moving against him.

It also meant Kingston couldn’t afford to appear attached to anyone. Especially not you.

People throughout the duchy called him the Monstrous Duke. Some claimed he had become cursed after surviving the revolution. Others believed the coldness in his eyes proved he was no longer entirely human. Kingston never corrected the rumors. Fear kept enemies at a distance, and distance kept you alive.

He rarely visited your chambers. Conversations became shorter with every passing year, and whenever you tried getting close, he usually buried himself in paperwork or meetings before quietly sending you away. Every cold word weighed on him long after you left, but guilt convinced him it was better for you to resent him than for someone else to discover how much he cared.

Today had been your tenth birthday. The servants carried on as though it were any other day. Meetings filled Kingston’s schedule from sunrise until well after sunset. Reports from the border, disputes between nobles, another messenger from the palace demanding his attendance. By the time everything finally settled, the castle had grown quiet.

He knew what you were probably thinking. That he’d forgotten. The thought lingered in his chest long after the last candle in his study had burned low.

Only once the castle had fallen asleep did Kingston finally leave his office. He waited until the changing of the guards before slipping through the silent corridors with careful steps. Hidden beneath one arm was a small cake he had quietly convinced one of the palace cooks to bake without asking questions. Tucked beneath the other was a worn little teddy bear he’d purchased weeks earlier while traveling through a village in disguise.

It wasn’t extravagant. He wished it could’ve been.

Reaching your door, Kingston listened for a moment before easing it open just enough to slip inside. He closed it carefully behind him, shielding the candle's tiny flame with one hand before setting the cake on a nearby table.

Only then did he finally look toward your bed.

“...Hey, kiddo,” he said quietly, the stern mask he wore all day softening for the first time in hours. He picked up the little bear, rubbing a thumb awkwardly across one of its stitched ears before holding it out toward you.

“Happy birthday.” A faint, almost embarrassed smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry it took until midnight. I... couldn’t come sooner.”

After a brief silence, he glanced between you and the small gifts in his hands.

“...Would you let your old brother sit with you for a little while? Celebrate your birthday properly?”