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On the morning of February 26th, Solid woke up with stars in his eyes. He dressed quickly and hurried to the dining room, sucking in breaths of air in search of the smells of his favorite breakfast. It wasn’t until the table came into view that he smelled anything at all, and when he did, it was only fresh waffles. No ham, or eggs, or even a quiche. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.
Nozel and Nebra sat at the table, browsing the paper over cups of tea and waffles. “Morning,” Nebra greeted, her pink eyes never leaving the paper.
“You’re up early,” Nozel observed in the same disinterested fashion.
“Yeah.” He padded into the room and sank into a chair. “I was expecting a big breakfast.”
“Oh? Why is that?” Nebra asked.
Solid glowered to stave off a hurt pout. “Don’t you remember what day it is?”
Nozel and Nebra exchanged a puzzled look, but didn’t dwell on the question long before returning to reading. “The Wizard King addresses the public today, but not until this evening, which definitely doesn’t warrant a big breakfast,” Nebra said. Nozel hummed in agreement.
Solid’s shoulders slacked. He picked up a waffle and drowned it in honey. “Yeah, I guess not.”
By the time breakfast was over, Solid decided that his siblings must be playing a trick on him. They’d never made such an error before, so there was no way that this faux pas was intentional. He’d bide his time, and wait for a surprise-- probably at work. Besides, surely his other friends would remember. This was nothing to lose his head about-- even if it was the most important day of his life in six years.
To his surprise, the Silver Eagles base showed no sign of knowing about his special day. He expected some cards on his desk, or a couple casual ‘Happy birthdays’ from other knights, but no one mentioned his birthday at all. There were no cards on his desk, and no presents delivered to his office. Not that he needed presents. He was royalty; he could have anything he wanted. But didn’t the Silver Eagles know how lucky they were for the chance to wish a royal happy birthday? Why wasn’t anybody saying anything? It hadn’t been this way on his last six birthdays, which were far less important.
Maybe he wouldn’t have felt as bad if he had anything to do, but of course this was the day he had no work to catch up on. So halfway through the day, he found himself sitting in his office, glaring at his desk while no one paid him any attention. If he thought it’d make a statement, he’d leave. But it seemed like at this rate, no one would even miss him.
Finally, he decided that this could not go on. His siblings were too busy to notice, and he could dismiss the other knights forgetting (but not forgive them). But there was one person that he was sure hadn’t forgotten. And it wouldn’t hurt to do a little prodding on that front. He pulled out his communicator and dialed Langris’ number. Rubbing the desperation out of his cheeks, he set the communicator to visual mode and set it on his desk.
His boyfriend’s lovely face appeared in a magical hologram above his communicator. “Hello, Solid. What is it?”
“Hello, Langris.” He smiled easily, confident in what he was seeking. “You kept me waiting, so I called you.”
“Did I?”
Solid’s brow twitched. Forcing his smile to persist, he replied, “Yes, you did. Don’t you have something to tell me?”
Langris stared at him until the silence grew awkward. Then, he looked away. “I don’t think so.”
His smile cracked like glass. “You don’t? Are you sure?”
“I’m very busy today. If you want something, just say it.”
“Are you sure that you have nothing to say to me?”
“I have to go. Goodbye, love.” Langris severed the connection, and the hologram vanished.
Solid stared, mouth hanging open in disbelief. Anger clawed at his throat, but only heartbreak pricked at the corners of his eyes. This had to be fake. This could not be happening.
He pushed himself from his desk, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. Solid had always cried easily; a quirk that he blamed on his affinity (even though Noelle didn’t share it with him). He slammed his door open and marched out of the base, straight past several surprised knights, including his brother and sister.
“Solid, where are you going?” Nozel called.
“I’m taking a long lunch!” he barked.
He decided that if no one else was going to treat him, he’d treat himself. He bought a large and luxurious lunch at his favorite restaurant, and wasted the afternoon eating it, alone, by himself. Although plate after plate vanished, he couldn’t trick himself into a good mood, and he couldn’t bring himself to have his first legal drink by himself either. When he was finished, he decided that he’d mope around until he was ready to go home. It was his birthday, and if he wanted to throw a pity party, by God, he was going to.
The evening loomed over him as he made his way back to House Silva. He plodded onto the estate without paying the servants any mind; their “Happy birthdays” meant little to him, and made it sting that much more that none of the people he loved had remembered.
He was nearly to his room when a servant stopped him with an announcement. “Master Solid, Lord Nozel and Lady Nebra are waiting for you on the back porch.”
“Tell them I’ve gone to bed early,” he grumbled, shambling down the hall.
“...My lord, they insist on your attendance. I fear they may grow angry if you keep them waiting any longer.”
Solid clenched his jaw. Angry tears prickled in his eyes. Of course they would do something like this; adding insult to injury. He turned on his heel and stomped toward the back porch, angry mana broiling around him. They wanted to forget his birthday and threaten him with their bad moods? Well, he could threaten right back.
The back porch’s French doors were already partially open, and his mana threw them open with a bang. His voice rose to a livid boom, and then broke mid-sentence. “Who do you two think you are, treating me like this!?”
Nebra and Nozel’s heads shot up. They sat at the table, a tall pitcher of iced tea and cups neatly laid out before them. Despite his dramatic entrance, neither of them looked shaken. “We think that we are your brother and sister,” Nozel replied easily.
“And-- And that excuses your behavior!?” he cried, throwing back his head. The tears at the corners of his eyes finally made good on his promise, and hot, angry droplets dribbled down his cheeks. “I will not stand for it! I deserve better!”
“Better than being royalty?” Nozel replied incredulously. Behind her hand, Nebra giggled.
Solid stared through tear-blurred vision; his anger couldn’t keep up with his hurt feelings. “Y-Yes! How could you forget?” His mana coalesced into looming tendrils of water to hide his tears, but it did nothing to mask his quaking voice. “I’ve never forgotten your birthdays! Don’t you care?”
Nebra and Nozel exchanged a knowing look, and Nozel shook his head. With a sigh, he pulled out and turned around the chair tucked into the table between him and Solid. On its seat was a pile of cards and presents.
Solid blinked until his vision cleared. The tempestuous mana around him slowly, cautiously, settled. “Huh?”
“Solid,” Nebra chided, shaking her head. “You really thought that we would forget your 21st birthday?”
He stared.
“You are so immature.” Despite the scathing tone of his voice, Nozel wore a smile. “This bit was supposed to last for at least another five minutes, but if you ran away crying…”
Solid pressed his hands to his cheeks as he turned an embarrassed red. He scurried up to the chair and rifled through the presents. There were gifts there from everyone; from distant family, to royal knights. He dug until he found an envelope with Langris’ handwriting, and he eagerly ripped it open. The card was simple in classic Vaude fashion, with a note written inside, along with a receipt for a reservation at a high-end ski lodge.
Solid,
I apologize for not delivering this personally, but your siblings would not allow it. Forgive me for the part they forced me to play.
Love,
Langri
Solid bit his lip, beating back a wild smile. He balled up the envelope and threw it at Nozel. “Why did you do this to me? Aren’t I too old for this now?”
Noze flicked the ball aside with a smirk. “I did this to Nebra, and I will do this to Noelle. You are not the exception.”
“Sit down with us!” Nebra laughed. She lifted the pitcher and poured him a glass of tea. “We can have tea and cake while you open your presents.”
Solid pulled out the fourth chair at the table. As he sat down, he took a big swig of iced tea, and nearly spat it right back out. He gagged down the gulp and squawked, “Ugh, what is this!?”
“That, little brother,” Nebra giggled, eyes flashing mischievously, “is Long Island iced tea.”