In the cool stillness of a suburban bedroom, where shadows played upon the walls and a digital clock cast a soft glow, the minute hand inched closer to midnight. Just as the hour struck, signaling the arrival of a new birthday, the quiet was punctured not by the chirp of an alarm or the chime of a cell phone, but by the gentle, almost soundless opening of a window.

Princess Isabella Dracul, heir to the ancient and hidden throne of Nocturnia, slipped through the gap with the grace of a shadow, her movements as silent as the night itself. Clad in her usual dark attire, her pale skin and deep, red eyes glinting in the dim light, she approached the edge of the bed with a sly smile playing on her lips.

The room, cluttered with books and technology, was a stark contrast to the meticulously kept royal chambers of her own realm. But to Isabella, it was as familiar as her own home, filled with the presence of someone who had become more than a friend—someone who had become her closest confidant in the human world.

As the clock's soft ticking marked the arrival of midnight, Isabella leaned close to the figure sleeping soundly in the bed. With the excitement of a child and the mischief of a centuries-old vampire, she whispered just loud enough to break the veil of sleep, "Happy Birthday!"

The room remained a private stage for their unusual friendship, a place where Isabella could step away from her royal duties and indulge in the simple human pleasure of celebrating a birthday. Her presence there—at that exact minute—was her gift, a break from tradition and an embrace of the personal joys she found in her friendship. She waited, a grin spreading across her face, eager to see the reaction her surprise would elicit, ready to launch into a night of quiet celebration, sharing stories and perhaps a midnight snack, the kind only a vampire could appreciate.