Chapter 3
Pecenic laughed heartily, completely oblivious to the way Erica’s face was gradually turning red with anger as she blinked blankly.
“You tiny maid! How did you know it was my birthday and even brought candles? How sweet of you!”
“…Ugh.”
Erica bit her lip hard.
Wearing old, stained clothes and having messy hair, it was understandable to mistake her for a maid rather than the daughter of a count.
But blowing out someone else’s birthday candles was just plain rude.
A grown man, acting worse than a child—where did all those years go?
“…It’s not your birthday.”
“Huh?”
Staring at the extinguished candle, Erica couldn’t even get angry and spoke in a defeated voice.
“It’s my birthday.”
She wanted to express her anger, but she wasn’t used to it. She didn’t know how to show it.
Instead, sorrow settled in her heart like a heavy sigh.
“This was my wish… the one day a year I get to make a wish.”
It felt like the small, blackened candle was whispering to her:
“You idiot, today isn’t even your birthday.”
Tears welled up, and she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.
Her birthday wish had been stolen. Now Erica had no wish to make.
“I… I’m sorry.”
Pecenic scratched his beard.
Even drunk, his understanding hadn’t completely dulled. It was likely this little maid’s birthday today.
“Instead of a birthday candle, let me grant you a wish. How about that? I’m wealthy, so I can buy you whatever gift you want.”
Pecenic pointed to the worn-out teddy bear beside the girl.
“How about a big, cute bunny doll instead of that ragged cotton ball?”
Erica gave no answer.
Pecenic took the silence as agreement.
“I’ll send it to the count’s estate tomorrow at dawn. Which room do you work in? Kitchen? Laundry room? I’ll just send it to the head maid so you can pick it up.”
“…”
Erica gripped the egg tart in her right hand and hugged the teddy bear with her left.
“I don’t need that. That’s not what I wished for.”
Erica rose from the fountain’s edge.
“You should make a wish instead. Since you stole mine.”
“No, no. I don’t have any wishes.”
“Liar. Who in the world doesn’t have a wish?”
“I used to, a long time ago.”
Drunk, Pecenic started rambling about his personal life, unasked.
“You don’t know how many times I wished to see my lovely daughter grow up and get married.”
“…”
“One day, I thought maybe I was asking too much. So I scaled it down. Just wished for her to live one more year.”
“…”
“Do you know how much money I gave to the temple to pray for that? With what I donated, they probably built two mansions like this one.”
“…Wow, you must be rich.”
“Of course. No one in the Tenearha is poor.”
“…”
Tenearha.
Erica looked up at the familiar name.
It was hard to believe that this goofy-looking middle-aged man was in the same Imperial Knights as her father.
“So come on, tell me anything. What can I buy you?”
Pecenic asked again.
He couldn’t just ignore the fact that he had stolen a little maid’s birthday wish and made her cry. He wouldn’t feel like drinking again until he at least promised her a gift.
“Let me leave the count’s estate.”
Erica finally spoke.
“Please help me.”
Her clear eyes looked up at Pecenic.
“That was what I was going to wish for.”
He was so tall that she had to tilt her head all the way back to see him.
Pecenic wasn’t the kind of man to kneel down for a mere child maid.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, Pecenic said nothing.
His gaze finally took in the child carefully.
“…Looks like she’s being bullied by the other maids.”
There were scars on her eyes and forearms.
At first, he had thought the Count of Herais just trained his maids a bit strictly.
But even for a maid, her appearance was far too shabby.
It was rude to judge the quality of a noble’s servants, but when guests were visiting, even child maids were typically dressed neatly.
But this girl looked like a beggar from the slums.
“This is going too far.”
If a young maid was asking to leave the estate herself, then something was clearly wrong.
He already knew well that Count Herais had no interest in managing his estate.
Most likely, the problem lay in the hands of the countess or the head maid—
“…That would be difficult.”
Pecenic couldn’t get involved.
There were unspoken rules in noble society.
Though he was close with Count Herais and could probably get the girl out with a few words, the “few words” would come with a great deal of hassle.
“If you don’t want a gift, I’ll be on my way.”
“…”
“Are you sure? Not even a bunny doll?”
“…”
“I’m really going.”
“…”
Erica said nothing to the end, and Pecenic finally turned his back.
“…”
She silently watched his broad back as he walked away.
There was no real meaning to it.
After a few steps, Pecenic suddenly stopped.
His broad back turned around.
“Oh, right. Happy birthday.”
He awkwardly scratched his nose as he said it. Midnight had probably passed already.
“…Mm.”
Erica hugged her teddy bear tightly. She felt shy.
“Thank you.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard that.
Actually, it’s not my birthday today. Or yesterday. I just picked a day on my own.
She hid the truth that had risen all the way to her throat.
“Happy birthday to you too, mister!”
Erica smiled, for once.
Her eyes crinkled, and she smiled brightly—so childlike and lovely.
“Dad, happy birthday!”
Pecenic felt like someone had struck him in the back of the head. His deceased daughter’s image flashed in his mind.
“…Yeah.”
That moment, he realized something terrible had happened.
“…Thank you.”
It was a disaster.
A memory box long unopened was suddenly forced open.
No question—it was a disaster.
He had tried so hard to forget. The daughter he had loved so much. But when he opened his eyes, he was alone.
The resurrected nightmare swept over Pecenic like the plague that had once taken his wife and daughter.
“…”
Even when he returned to the drinking table and got drunk until dawn.
Even when he passed out and slipped into dreams.
Even during the Imperial Knights’ early morning sword training, gripping his blade—
“…Damn it.”
The longing pierced his heart with ease.
Just like the fragrance from the memory box, now flung open and carried away by the wind, those people would never return.
Even with a sword in hand, or a silly grin on his face, life was no longer fun.
What had begun as emptiness was now a bottomless pit.
One Year Later
Erica met that strange man again.
Pecenic once again held his birthday party at the Count of Herais’ mansion.
The count’s family nearly fainted from the absurdity, but this time, at least he gave them advance notice, which the countess appreciated—if only a little.
“Did you know, madam? This little maid and I share the same birthday. I just happened to find out last year.”
“Oh my, how interesting. I’ll have the head maid give the child a slice of cake.”
The countess replied with her usual polite mask.
She couldn’t care less about a maid’s birthday, but showing off noblesse oblige at times like these was easy.
Of course, the head maid couldn’t figure out which maid had a birthday today, and the cake ended up going to no one.
Meanwhile, the actual birthday girl, Erica, lit a candle on a small piece of bread she had stolen.
She now knew that an 8th birthday required 8 candles—but she didn’t have that many.
Determined not to miss her chance like last year, she hurriedly blew out the candle and made a wish.
“Please let me leave the count’s estate.”
It was a fast, whispered prayer.
And then, Erica spotted Pecenic in the hallway.
The man who shared her birthday. She ran toward him with delight and called out—
“…Mister.”
