Shortly after eleven on Tuesday night, less than an hour remained before Roswitha’s 218th birthday would come to an end.

And yet, the birthday girl was still not home.

Leon had originally planned to bring Muen into the surprise as well, thinking it would give the mother and daughter a pleasant moment, while also making up for last year. After all, during Roswitha's last birthday, her daughter missed seeing her father wake up in time to celebrate.

But it was already so late, and Muen had fallen fast asleep.

Noa had returned to Saint Hiss Academy yesterday morning.

Tomorrow, when Muen woke up, Leon would likely be able to charm his daughter with his cheer, saying, “Guess what, sweetie, Daddy made it in time for Mommy’s birthday this year!”

Muen would undoubtedly be thrilled.

But the question now was:

What about tonight?

Leon had initially agreed to help Roswitha organize her birthday celebrations in large part because she had brought up their daughters.

But now that one was away at school and the other was tucked in bed, it felt as if this entire event had been orchestrated solely for Roswitha’s sake.

Leon sat on the sofa in Roswitha’s room, wrinkling his nose. “You sly old dragon. There’s no way I’m throwing you a birthday party next year!”

For now, he’d have to make do. Just for this year.

Yes, just this once.

...

Meanwhile, Roswitha was walking toward her own room, carrying several gift boxes in her arms.

Although members of the Dragon Clan celebrated birthdays only every ten years once they reached adulthood, hosting grand banquets with friends and family, that didn’t mean they didn’t receive heartfelt little gifts on the actual day of their birth in the interim years.

The gift boxes Roswitha was carrying included presents from her elder sister Isa, the head maid Anna, and a few old classmates she'd gotten along with well back in school.

She had stayed late at work tonight, handling some official matters, which explained her belated return.

Initially, she thought about checking in on her daughter, but by this time of night, Muen was usually sound asleep, so Roswitha decided to skip it.

And besides...

Aside from a brief shared meal at the dinner table, she hadn’t seen Leon all day.

Could it be that the birthday plans hadn’t gone well and he was hiding somewhere out of embarrassment?

Roswitha shook her head, dismissing the thought. There was no point in overthinking. Judging from tonight’s trajectory, it seemed like the day would simply end this way.

Nothing special at all.

When she reached her door and reached out to open it, she realized that the door was slightly ajar.

Through the gap, she could see that the lights were off inside.

Holding her boxes of gifts tightly, Roswitha blinked a few times, hesitated briefly, and then turned sideways to nudge the door open with her shoulder. “Leon, is that you in my roo—”

Boom~~

The moment she stepped inside, the room lights burst to life, followed by a muffled bang as several streamers floated lazily onto Roswitha’s long silver hair.

Startled by the sudden sound, Roswitha hadn’t yet gathered her thoughts when someone covered her eyes from behind.

It was Leon.

She immediately recognized the feel of his touch.

And in all of Silver Dragon Castle, he was the only person bold enough to sneak into her room and block her sight like this.

How outrageous—what kind of privileges were these for a captive?

Well, not that captives typically threw birthday parties for their captors either. Considering that, Roswitha found herself slightly less annoyed.

“Happy birthday, you old dragon,” came a familiar voice from behind her.

Roswitha didn’t struggle. She simply stood there quietly with her gifts in her arms.

Hah, this despicable man actually managed to throw her a party without her noticing?

Her brief feeling of joy was accompanied by a teasing remark. “If you swapped out ‘old dragon’ for my name, wouldn’t that sound better?”

“Next time, for sure.”

Roswitha let out a snicker. “So, is covering someone’s eyes and saying ‘Happy Birthday’ part of human birthday customs?”

Leon pondered briefly. “Not entirely. Now, step slowly toward the living room. There’s another surprise waiting for you.”

Roswitha shrugged and began walking forward slowly.

Leon stood slightly to her side, lowering his gaze to watch her steps.

“Lift your foot higher—there’s a small step at the entryway.”

“Okay.”

The two moved steadily forward, one leading, the other following closely behind.

Roswitha sniffed the air. She detected a faint scent of burning candles.

Curious, she thought to herself—lighting candles for a birthday? Was that also a human tradition?

But just as she was about to ask, she caught a whiff of something else mixed into the air...

“Cream?!”

Cream.

Oh no.

The memory of the cream puff incident at the school sports event flashed vividly in her mind, and she instinctively wanted to flee.

“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not what you imagine.”

Leon still had her eyes covered. “So, are you ready? I’m letting go now.”

“Okay.” She braced herself, ready to smear the supposed cream puffs on Leon’s face if her suspicions turned out to be right.

The next moment, his hands moved away slowly.

Roswitha adjusted to the room’s lighting, and when her eyes fell, she saw a gigantic cake sitting in the living room!

The cake, large enough to rival a coffee table, explained the strong smell of cream.

Decorated with small fruit pieces, it had oranges as its main topping, with strawberries and mangoes as accents.

And on the very top of the cake, a sentence had been written in fruit jam:

Happy Birthday, Roswitha.

Faced with this “spectacle,” Roswitha couldn’t help but be mildly amazed.

She’d seen plenty of cakes. She’d heard countless birthday wishes.

But a cake this enormous, paired with such a whimsical birthday message, was a first even for her.

She set the gifts she had been holding aside and asked, “Do all humans eat cake on their birthdays?”

“Pretty much, yes,” Leon replied.

Roswitha nodded thoughtfully. “Are they always this big?”

“No, not at all. This is what I was telling you about—though birthdays often follow traditional rituals, the details can vary.”

“All I see is a cake larger than my coffee table. What’s your special twist?”

“Candles, of course. Count them—there are precisely 218 candles, one for each year of your age.”

The sheer number of candles took her by surprise, though she had no intention to actually count them one by one.

It now made sense why Leon needed such a massive cake—there was simply no way to plant over two hundred candles on a smaller one.

She stepped forward, gazing in wonder at the oversized cake. The candlelight reflected in her silver eyes.

Even if she didn’t fully grasp why humans had such strange birthday customs, the novelty had already left her quite satisfied.

And credit where it was due: Leon had managed to prepare an enormous cake in just a few days while keeping everything completely under wraps.

As expected of the strongest Dragon Slayer—he’d concealed his tracks so well that even Roswitha had assumed he’d forgotten her birthday entirely.

Reaching out with her elegant fingers, she gently scraped a bit of cream off the cake with her fingertip and brought it to her mouth.

It was sweet, without being cloying.

Infinitely better than those horrific cream puffs.

The sweetness put her in a good mood. Smiling, Roswitha turned around and, for once, offered Leon a rare compliment. “Not bad. Human birthdays... aren't half bad.”

“It’s not over yet,” Leon said.

Her eyes lit up. “There’s more?”

Oddly enough, she found herself eager to see what other surprises humans might have up their sleeves.

Leon’s expression turned mischievous as he stepped closer to her and gestured toward the candles on the cake. “You need to blow them out and make a wish.”

“Wait, why does making a wish require blowing out candles? And... does making a wish on your birthday actually work?”

“Not always, and there’s no scientific proof. It’s just for the good luck. But blowing out the candles is non-negotiable. Otherwise, you don’t get to eat the cake.”

Roswitha stared at the 218 candles and swallowed nervously. “I really have to? I can’t skip it?”

“Nope. You’re the one who said we had to stick to human traditions.”

Leon’s grin grew wicked. “Now then, Your Majesty. Please blow.”

Narrowing her eyes, Roswitha scrutinized him carefully. Whatever trace of affection or gratitude she had toward him earlier instantly vanished.

This despicable man—of course he couldn’t just throw her a normal birthday.

Fine. She’d play along.

But if he thought he could make her miserable, he’d better be ready to suffer along with her.

Roswitha grabbed Leon by the arm and dragged him toward the cake, bending down alongside him until they were both eye-level with the candles. “Blow with me.”

“It’s your birthday! Why am I blowing the candles with you?” Leon’s heart skipped a beat as he tried to wriggle free.

“Shouldn’t blowing candles with the queen be considered an honor for a mere captive?”

“...”

“Come on, hurry.”

Clutching his sleeve tightly, Roswitha made it clear she wouldn’t be letting go until he complied.

Well, he dug his own grave.

The couple exchanged a glance before both took a deep breath and began exhaling toward the sea of candles.

“Phew... phew... gah—cough, cough!”

One candle after another flickered out as the two kept blowing until they were both red-faced and gasping for breath.

By the time all 218 candles were extinguished, both of them were leaning against each other for support, desperately sucking in fresh air.

As her breathing steadied, Roswitha glared at him. “You humans are ridiculous! What kind of tradition is this?”

“Oh, come on! Normally, there are maybe ten or twenty candles at most. It’s not my fault you dragons live for centuries!”

Roswitha snorted, straightening up. “So, now what? Make a wish?”

“Exactly.”

“Can I wish for anything?”

Leon nodded. “Sure. But like I said, it’s just for luck. Don’t blame me if it doesn’t come true.”

“Hmm... and can I say my wish out loud?”

“That’s up to you.”

Gazing at the cake, Roswitha closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and—

"I hope—"

Leon perked up his ears, curious to hear what this dragoness might wish for.

"That my captives can never escape."

Leon rolled his eyes, feeling speechless beyond words.

"Dragoness, that's not how wishes work!"

"Mind your own business. It's my birthday—I'll wish for whatever I want."

Leon waved his hand dismissively, deciding not to argue with her.

He picked up the oversized cake knife beside him. "Alright, can we eat the cake now? Which piece do you want?"

Roswitha stroked her chin, her gaze wandering over the large cake before finally settling on the words "Happy Birthday." "This part," she declared.

Leon cut out that section and handed it to Roswitha.

Then, he sliced off the "Roswitha" written to the left of "Happy Birthday" and placed it in front of himself.

Roswitha frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Eating Roswitha," Leon replied casually.

"You!..."

He took a bite. The jam was sweet and slightly tangy.

After finishing it, he even offered a critique. "Roswitha tastes great!"

Roswitha gritted her teeth in secret. She swore that on Leon's birthday, she would cut out the "Leon" on the cake and smash it onto his face to let him have his fill!

The cake-eating segment came to an end.

Hands on her hips, Roswitha began ticking off the checklist. "Candle blowing, wish-making, cake cutting, cake eating—all done. Hmm..."

Leon tilted his head. "What? Not satisfied?"

Roswitha had said earlier that if she wasn't satisfied, Leon would have to come up with something else.

She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Not very satisfied."

Honestly, she'd had a lot of fun, but Roswitha wanted to mess with Leon a little longer. Maybe see what other tricks he had up his sleeve.

"What wasn't good enough?"

Roswitha glanced around, and finally, her eyes landed on the pile of small gifts she'd just received. She immediately asked, "Where's my birthday present?"

"You Dragon Clan types. No cake, no wishes, but you insist on gifts as part of your birthday, huh?" Leon couldn’t help but tease.

Roswitha snorted. "Forget it if you don’t have one. This birthday barely passes as acceptable."

"Barely acceptable?"

Sorry, but in the life dictionary of Leon Cosmorth, there is no entry for "barely acceptable."

He nodded toward the balcony. "Follow me."

"For what?"

"To see the gift I prepared for you."

With that, Leon stepped out onto the balcony.

Roswitha followed behind him.

The two stood side by side, gazing up into the deep night sky.

"Where’s… the gift?" Roswitha asked.

Without responding, Leon slowly raised his right hand, a preparatory motion to snap his fingers.

Roswitha looked at him blankly. "What’s this supposed to mean?"

Snap—

The sound of his snapping fingers echoed. A blue light shot up into the sky from the distant forest.

Roswitha followed the beam with her eyes.

"Is that… lightning?"

The dazzling blue glow reflected in the Silver Dragon Queen's eyes. Under her watchful gaze, the radiance gradually coalesced, split apart, and then reassembled. Finally, it formed into a simple phrase written in bolts of lightning against the night sky:

Roswitha, Happy Birthday.

On the final minute of her 218th birthday, Leon Cosmorth had carved this fleeting message into the heavens for her.

Unique and ephemeral.

So this was why he had been standing on his balcony a few days ago, looking out as if searching for the perfect angle...

This guy… alright, he had put some thought into it.

Lightning couldn't endure for long, not even with the aid of magic.

As such, the bold "Happy Birthday" written in electricity only lasted a mere five seconds before it faded into the vast night sky.

But that was more than enough.

"Only things that are fleeting—" Roswitha murmured.

Leon completed the second half of her sentence for her. "—are worth cherishing."

She turned to the side. "Anna told you that?"

"Noa said it. Judging by your reaction, I can tell you’re happy with it." Leon spoke confidently.

Roswitha didn’t bother to protest further and nodded. "Yes, very satisfied. Didn’t think you’d be this good at planning a birthday party."

"Of course!"

"Oh? Care to explain?"

Leon puffed out his chest proudly. "I always plan my donkey’s birthday celebrations. I’m quite practiced by now."

If not for the sentiment of that lightning display, Roswitha would’ve kicked him right off the balcony at this very moment.