Interlude: Happy Birthday

It was a time when age hadn’t yet claimed Siegfried’s youth. Decades of a festering grudge had not yet shaped his heart into a thorned nest of roses—though its seeds had already been sown.

A few months had passed since Siegfried’s defeat in the hands of his best friend, Sert.

A fresh spring air rolled over the morning dew. A swath of newly-bloomed cherry blossoms marked the arrival of spring.

Siegfried emerged from a taxi. His dark hair was tied in a long, neat ponytail. He donned a spotless white dress shirt and formal slacks.

In front of him was the refurbished white archway of the grandest hotel in Espada City, which matched the aesthetic of the old church at the heart of town.

People came and went to and from the hotel’s revolving doors. The world still turned, unaware of who Graham was, or what sordid acts began to shape him months prior.

A shiver ran up his spine. Winter chills were still common at the cusp of spring, he thought, fooling himself—though it was no work of any early spring breeze.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he marched into the hotel, unflinching. After making his arrival known to the reception, he made his way up to the fifth floor, and towards the 10th door to the right.

Siegfried stood a few meters away from the door. He dusted the absent dust from his sleeve, then looked in the nearby mirror, checking himself for even the slightest blemish. He breathed deep the halls’ pine-scented air.

But before he could knock, a bespectacled, somewhat stocky young woman walked out of it. An open bag of sewing tools hung from under her arm, red thread spilling from an open pocket.

“Oh, my!” The women flinched at the sight of Siegfried. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks red.

Siegfried tried to force a smile, but it came out more naturally than he thought it would.

“Did I scare you, Hilde?”

“Not at all!”

Hilde hid the bag behind her. She wasn’t secretive or anything; rather, she had always been a little shy around Siegfried. She disliked painting herself a scatterbrain to others, much less him.

She swayed in place, then stepped to the side.

“Anywho!” Her face shot up at Siegfried, who was a head and a half taller than her. “I just got done fixing up her wedding dress. Plus, we got all the ‘lil doodads for the event stitched up to.”

Hilde simpered. “Sooo… you don’t really have to do anything!”

He didn’t come here to help. But all the same, he was glad—at least, as glad as he could be. There was an upper limit to his happiness.

“Thanks.” Siegfried gave Hilde a pat on the head. Hilde purred, then shortly after, protested and slinked away.

“How old do you think I am, doing that to me?”

“I know, I know.” Siegfried chuckled. “We’re only two years apart. But—”

Siegfried wanted to remark how cute and short she was, but held himself back.

“—Nevermind.”

Hilde shot him a look—a look that said she knew what he wanted to say. A silence of words unspoken but known followed.

“Oh yeah…” She glanced at the pristine wall beside her. Hilde strained a grin.

“Happy Birthday.”

Siegfried’s lips curled into a half smile. “...Thanks.”

“...I’ll see you at the church?”

“Yeah.”

“See ya.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Hilde disappeared into the direction of the elevator hall, like a rabbit hopping back to its hole.

Again, he took a deep breath. He flapped the collar of his shirt. Siegfried drew courage from deep in his stomach. Then, he knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

The voice of the woman on the other side was warm and tender.

When Siegfried opened the door, a blanket of white cloth greeted him. The pleasant glow of the early afternoon sun bathed him in a gentle yellow light. The scent of daffodils wafted in, overpowering any trace of smoke from the city below.

He made his way through a series of velvety white curtains, until he arrived at the heart of the room.

And there at its heart—was his.

A woman with auburn hair tied in an elaborate bun sat in front of a large, round mirror. Her slender figure was wrapped in an elegant silk wedding dress, its tail trailing all the way to the floor behind her.

A bright, crimson rouge danced on her lips. A subtle blush gave her quiet smile a waltz-like quality. Her lashes veiled the beautiful emerald eyes under them—eyes that arrested Siegfried in place when his gaze met hers.

For as long as he’s known her, Kiana’s beauty was a fact of life, as true as the sunrise every morning.

But today was different. It wasn’t just the makeup, or the dress, or the rouge—

Happiness.

It colored every inch of her face. A new makeup he’d never seen on her before. A happiness yet unseen.

How many years has it been since he’d seen her like this?

She carried the existential weight of being the Sankaku heir every single day of her life. It weighed on her, warped even her beauty. But today—none of it.

Just sweetness—and the delicateness of a young girl in love.

“Hmm? Are you okay?” The bride-to-be tilted her head.

Siegfried snapped out of his trance.

“Oh, sorry. I just thought you looked really good today.”

“Really good?” Kiana giggled with an impish grin. “Come on! Everyone worked so hard on me. Couldn’t you say something a little more flattering?”

Siegfried struggled with the words.

“Magnificent? …You look magnificent?”

Kiana laughed, but not at his expense. “Good enough!”

Siegfried hid his quivering hands in his pockets. From her words and attitude alone, he wondered if she ever knew how he felt.

He thought he let her know enough.

But maybe ‘enough’ wasn’t enough.

“Congratulations, Kiana.”

“Thank you.”

A gust of wind blew the curtains between them, like a veil that hid a confessor from their penitent. The breeze swept them into silence. When the curtains withdrew, Siegfried and Kiana simply stared, waiting for the other to say something—Anything.

“Hey, Sieg?” “Kiana?”

They spoke at the same time, then paused again, waiting for the other to continue.

“What is it?” Siegfried asked.

“Oh, nothing…” Kiana averted her gaze. “I was just wondering if you’ve already paid Sert a visit.”

The feeling that something had happened between two of her closest feelings knocked at the back of her head. She wasn’t there after all—not there to see the ferocious finality between Siegfriend and her groom.

“I haven’t,” Siegfried began to notice the sourness in Kiana’s smile. “Why?”

“Oh it’s just that…”

Kiana pouted, as if she were to say one thing, but chose to say another. “I was just wondering… if the reception reservation went through. I can’t help but worry, you know.”

Siegfried coerced a chuckle from his chest. “If he’s anything, he’s meticulous. And besides, that’s not his job, is it? It’s mine and Hilde’s.”

“Oh, right.” Kiana giggled. “I was just worried something was gonna throw all this off kilter.”

“We put so much into it,” An invisible pain shot through his heart. “So we did everything to make it work.”

“That’s good.”

Kiana pulled on some loose stretches of her wedding dress. “Don’t wanna be standing outside the venue for too long. This dress can get a little sweaty.”

“Really? Wedding dresses always looked drafty to me.”

“So you say. They’re like giant blankets. I feel like a big dumb alpaca.”

They shared a laugh—a natural one.

“Just don’t trip.” Siegfried shook his head. “The function—the stairs in the middle, they’re a bit of a tripping hazard.”

“What kind of inelegant minx do you think I am?”

Another laugh shared between them.

“So,” Kiana twiddled her thumbs. “You gonna go see Sert after this? He might appreciate your company.”

Siegfried shrugged. “He might.”

But of course he wouldn’t.

There have been, and will be, complications.

Siegfried thought about telling her everything.

The duel—

The defeat—

The wager he and Sert put on her.

It was maddening. Kiana was a trophy, and she didn’t even know. If he told her now, she just might break. She might even call off the entire thing.

And that smile would be gone—

Maybe even forever.

And maybe, somewhere deep inside, he valued that—more than he’d care to admit—or will ever admit.

And if he told her his true, honest feelings?

Would he have the heart to tear him from her? To live with how he’d not only ruined her ‘perfect now’, but to dishonor his own defeat?

He never really told her those words.

“I love you.”

He wanted to reach the top first. He wanted to be a Solaris Knight—a man worthy of her and her position.

Even if she thought otherwise, this was important to him.

And when he reached the zenith, he failed to realize that the roots he had ignored already strangled his own. His own best friend, Sert—the venom that ruined everything. There was no time to react, to process anything.

It just happened.

“Hey, Sieg.” Kiana’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You know, there’s just something I’ve been wondering about.”

“What is it?”

Kiana looked away, her eyes narrowed.

“Have you ever thought things would turn out like this?”

“Like what?”

“We’ve known each other for a long while, haven’t we?”

Siegfried nodded. “Almost our entire lives.”

“I’ve been thinking, you know. What if we didn’t pass the Mobile Chivalry? Would things have been different? Would you, Sert, and I have been different?”

Siegfried’s expression turned serious, yet still hiding the pain in his heart. His silence, almost deafening.

“I keep wondering if this is the happiest I’ve ever been, will ever be, or could be.”

…

“We can’t quantify that.” Siegfried’s face fell. “It’s not a number or amount we can measure. It just is.”

A moment of silence passed. Then, he followed up:

“...I guess.”

“Besides,” Siegfried spoke again before Kiana could, a fake smile painted on him. “If we didn’t make it to the MC, we’d be renting out a much dingier hotel. No caviar after the wedding, too.”

Kiana paused. Then, she laughed. How did she expect Siegfried to respond, telling him all this on her wedding day, of all times? How foolish, she thought.

“Yeah. You’re right there,” she shook her head. “Sorry. Being who I am, my brain just keeps entering spreadsheet mode, counting numbers and all that.”

Kiana exhaled. “Sorry. I was just being a silly goose. Things are right where they’re supposed to be, right?”

“They are.”

The bride-to-be stood up. She walked up to Siegfried, then put her arms around him, and rested her head on his chest.

“Things will be very different from now on. I don’t know why you surrendered your title, but I just know you have your reasons. It’s just that—”

“I know,” Siegfried reluctantly wrapped one arm around her head. “But now, I want to see where life will take me next. You can’t see things clearly from the top.”

Siegfried felt sick.

Why now? Why do this now?

He wanted to resent her for this—but he couldn’t.

Siegfried grabbed her hand, and handed her a pendant from his pocket. Kiana inspected it.

It was a small, metal tube attached to a long, silver chain which looked like it wouldn’t rust in a millenia. A pendant made of Solaris Silver—timeless, precious.

“This is yours, isn’t it?”

Siegfried closed her hand around it with his own. “It’s not mine. It’s the Solaris Knight’s.”

“But you earned it.”

“And I gave it up. On my own accord.”

“Idiot.”

Kiana tried to hold a tear, but just couldn’t. Before it could run down her cheek and make-up, Siegfried gently wiped it off.

“I’ll be there,” Siegfried said. “I’m your Man of Honor. So don’t. They’re for your husband-to-be. Okay?”

Just saying that made his skin crawl.

But self-pity was just another thing he burned through long, long ago.

“Besides, I’m not going too soon.” Siegfried’s voice rose, forced as it was. “I’ll be here a few months more. So we can hang out like always, if you like. Just keep it safe.”

Kiana smiled resolutely. “I will.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries and small talk for a few more minutes, until Siegfried decided he had enough. The wedding drew near, and he didn’t want to be caught dead cavorting with the bridge.

As he was about to leave, Kiana stopped him one last time.

“The reception has a separate cake for you, okay?”

“Oh,” Siegfried said, surprised. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I did.”

Kiana shared with him a smile as bright as the sun.

“Happy Birthday, Sieg.”

It was too much.

“...Thank you.”

Siegfried walked out, and didn’t realize he was practically running back to the elevator.

He leaned on a nearby ivory wall. He ground his teeth. A mist covered his vision, a single tear flowing from each eye.

His rage couldn’t find its owner? Did it belong to him? To Sert? To the idea of losing Kiana? Or even to Kiana herself?

Lost in his emotions, he hadn’t even registered a second presence in the hall.

“Sieg…?”

Hilde emerged from the corner, as if she were in wait—like she expected something like this would happen.

Siegfried slid down the wall. Loose paint dragged across his pristine white dress suit, sullying it with trace amounts of old, loose paint—white, thankfully so.

“Oh my God… Sieg.”

Hilde crouched down to his level. When she put his arm on his shoulder, he twitched. She pulled her arm back—afraid. She swallowed her fear, and reached out to him again.

“Please.”

She wrapped his arms around Siegfried. He barely registered her presence at first, but eventually, he realized. He clung to her—the only remaining ally he thought existed.

Siegfried pulled her close, spilling the bag and its contents from her arm. The red yarn rolled across the floor. Hilde reached for it, but her focus shifted to him instead.

“Hang in there, Sieg.”