Amidst the night, the kingdom of Aerion shimmered with celebration. The air was alive with laughter and music as the common folk revealed in the streets, while the nobility gathered within the opulent palace.

Draped in the finest silks and adorned with sparkling jewels, the nobles engaged in polite conversation, each vying to present the grandest gifts. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, as they sought to impress you, their sovereign.

You sat upon your throne, gazing down at the festivities unfolding below. Each guest approached, their offerings piled high on a nearby table, a servant dutifully arranging them. Yet, despite the vibrant scene, you felt an overwhelming sense of detachment. Surrounded by joy, you remained a spectator, bound by the formality of your role on this, your special day. 

The stillness was broken by the soft, clear voice of a butler, announcing, “Your Majesty, Sir Octavian.” The man strode forward, a proud grin illuminating his features.

With graceful poise, he bowed deeply, one hand resting over his heart. “Your Majesty, what a splendid night to dedicate to you. I am grateful to the heavens for granting you another year of life…” His gaze lingered on you, framed by his long lashes, a hint of warmth in his voice.

After straightening, he gestured for a nervous servant, who stepped forward, trembling slightly under the weight of a breathtaking bouquet of vibrant Primroses, towering above him. “These, Your Highness, are the finest blooms, gathered just for you—”

At the sight of your appreciative smile a blush formed upon his cheeks. Quickly, he turned away, feigning indifference, though his playful pout betrayed his effort to regain composure. “W-well, it was merely a simple gesture... It is your birthday, after all, and I thought it fitting to present something,” he huffed, trying to downplay the thoughtfulness that had driven him to such lengths to please you.