“…No, how could I possibly like Reina?”
Dean’s face burned red as he firmly concluded that what he felt wasn’t affection—it was only respect.
Reina didn’t remember it, but Dean owed her a great debt from the past. Because of that, he wanted, if Reina would allow it, to give Bonita a gift as well.
That’s what I wanted to ask her about…
During sparring practice at the knights’ training ground, the Star’s Birthday had come up in conversation. Since it would be the first celebrated after Lady Estelle’s return, it was going to be prepared on a grand scale. At that moment, Dean thought of Reina and Bonita.
The only children in the duke’s estate were Estelle and Bonita. He worried Bonita might feel small or left out when she saw the many gifts arriving for Estelle. He had planned to ask Reina if it would be alright for him to take Bonita to see a play while she worked.
But he had failed. Scratching at the back of his flushed neck, he knew his face must look like a boiled shrimp.
“…I’ll be heading back to training now. Take care.”
“Yes, good luck today,” Sophia replied.
Dean walked away heavily, sighing as if the ground would cave beneath him. Watching his back, Sophia sighed in the same way.
“…So difficult.”
This year’s Star’s Birthday was to be the grandest since Damian Winternight had inherited the dukedom. Because it was the first after Estelle’s return, everyone poured their hearts into preparing.
Every servant in the household planned to bring a gift Estelle might like, even whispering bets on whose would be best.
The Duke, of course, was convinced he would come first—though he was strangely uneasy.
Would a vineyard be too common?
He thought of giving Estelle the largest vineyard in the empire. The wines produced there were so prized they were sold for high prices even beyond the borders. He had intended to save it for her debutante celebration, but…
She’s still too young to know much about wine…
Perhaps a mine would be better? Diamonds, maybe? Or rubies? Topaz? He had no idea what his daughter liked best. Frowning, he rubbed his chin.
“…Hm?”
Then he saw Reina walking down the corridor, her face bright with excitement.
“Reina Borton.”
“Ah—my lord. Good afternoon.”
Startled by his voice, Reina bowed. The Duke, knowing she was not usually so expressive, asked quietly:
“…Something good happened?”
“Ah! I-Is it that obvious?”
“….”
Obvious was an understatement. She looked radiant.
“I finally thought of what to give Bonita for the Star’s Birthday. But I’m not sure if it’s good enough… It’s such an important day, I want the gift to be special.”
“Of course. That’s what the festival is about. Not that I believe in the god behind it.”
“…Pardon?”
“What is it?”
“Oh—nothing.”
Reina had assumed everyone believed in Bendicion, the deity celebrated on this day.
“The Star’s Birthday was made to honor the first human Bendicion loved. I thought belief was required… but I suppose not.”
The Duke only answered calmly:
“If it makes the children happy, that’s reason enough.”
“…Yes, you’re right.”
Reina smiled easily, more comfortable than she once had been. The Duke, seeing her, was reminded of Bonita, who resembled her so much.
“What gift are you planning?”
“…A performance. A traveling theater troupe is in the city. I’d like to take her to see it.”
“A play?”
Reina blushed. Standing before a man who could buy anything, she felt foolish for being so delighted about something so simple.
“…Yes. She mentioned she wanted to see them last time we went out. It may not seem like much to you, my lord, but…”
“A good idea.”
“…?”
“I never thought of it, but she would surely enjoy that.”
The Duke himself had never gone to plays or performances except for official duties. It hadn’t crossed his mind that Estelle might enjoy one. Thinking of his daughter reading fairy tales, his face softened into a smile.
He’s smiling again, Reina thought, realizing he must be imagining Estelle.
So she asked, “What gift do you plan to give, my lord?”
“…A vineyard, perhaps.”
“….”
“Though I don’t know if a child would care for one.”
Reina felt dizzy at the sheer scale of his plans.
And then—like a memory not her own—words floated into her mind.
On the morning of the Star’s Birthday, during breakfast, the Duke handed Estelle a document.
“What is this?”
“…Just a little gift.”
But it was no small matter—he had agonized over it for days. Star’s Birthday gifts were always meant to be extraordinary.
“Thank you.”
Estelle, already told by Peter to expect something, opened the envelope with a pounding heart.
Inside was the deed to a vineyard.
“The grapes there are exquisite. When you’re grown, you can…”
“I-I’m happy! Really!” Estelle forced a smile.
“….”
“Yes, perhaps the vineyard…” the Duke muttered.
“M-my lord!” Reina blurted, pale. She dared to interrupt him—unthinkable, yet she couldn’t let father and daughter be hurt by such a gift.
“What is it?”
He didn’t seem offended, only curious.
“…Would you come with us to the play? You, Estelle, my daughter, and me—together.”
The Duke’s expression was openly startled.
Reina herself was shocked at what she had just said. It was reckless—even insolent—to invite her master out. Yet Damian agreed. He didn’t seem displeased. As long as Estelle enjoyed herself and neither Reina nor Bonita felt uncomfortable, he would allow it.
Still, word spread quickly. Though neither he nor Reina were ones to gossip, soon the entire estate knew the Duke would attend the Star’s Birthday festival with Reina and their daughters.
Many looked at Reina with envy, admiration, or jealousy. That night, brushing Bonita’s hair, Reina thought:
All I did was deliver a threatening letter. And yet… here I am, finding my daughter, receiving such treatment, even chatting casually with the Duke.
Her status was still only that of a maid, but her life had changed—better quarters, protection, and privileges no ordinary servant could dream of.
I suppose people would envy me…
“Bonnie, you must sleep well tonight.”
“Mhm.”
The estate was decorated with stars in honor of the holy day. Estelle had shyly smiled as she hung them herself. Even Reina and Bonita’s room had a little star-shaped wreath on the door.
“Tomorrow we’ll see the play and eat delicious food. If you don’t sleep now, you’ll be too tired to enjoy it.”
“But… my heart’s beating so fast. It might burst.”
“Goodness, it mustn’t burst.”
Bonita placed both hands over her chest, her little face serious. Reina laughed and took her hands, walking with her slowly like in a dance.
“If it burst, Mama would be so sad.”
“I’m holding it tight so it won’t.”
Reina laughed again, showering her daughter with kisses until she pouted, then tucked her in.
“…Will we have pancakes this year?” Bonita whispered in the dark.
“No. This year we’ll have something even better.”
“…I see.” She sounded a little disappointed.
The next day, Reina dressed Bonita in a navy dress lined with lace and pearls, and a bonnet with two large ribbons. On her feet went new Mary Jane shoes. Bonita twirled in delight.
“You look like a princess,” Reina said warmly.
She herself wore simple, modest clothes, tying her hair back with a white ribbon. She reminded Bonita of the rules for crowds—never let go of her hand, and if lost, stay put.
Outside, the air was brisk. Estelle was waiting, in a pink cape trimmed with fur, her white hair hidden under a bonnet.
“Reina!” she called brightly.
“Good morning, miss. You look beautiful.”
Together they went to the Duke, who stood in the winter garden. Even in plain clothes, his presence was unmistakable—tall, refined, impossible not to notice.
They entered a carriage that looked plain outside but was luxuriously furnished within. Reina hid her surprise.
Inside, she asked nervously, “Shall I still call you ‘my lord’ in town?”
“…No. Call me Damian.”
“…Pardon?”
“Damian. It’s an order.”
“…Damian… sir?”
“That will do.”
Reina’s heart raced.
The carriage soon stopped at the edge of town. Damian stepped down first, lifted Estelle into his arms, then—without warning—seized Reina by the waist and carried her down.
“Th-this…”
“The step is high. You could twist your ankle.”
“…Thank you, Damian… sir.”
He also lifted Bonita down, commenting she had grown heavier.
Reina steadied her daughter, still shaken herself. Damian, meanwhile, watched Reina and Bonita holding hands, then silently offered his own hand to Estelle. She hesitated, then took it. His lips curved faintly in satisfaction.
The four of them walked together toward the festival.
The streets blazed with stars and music. Shops sold decorations, sweets, and trinkets for lovers. Crowds pressed in from every side.
“Never seen so many people,” Damian muttered.
“Not used to crowds, are you?” Reina asked gently.
“Never,” he admitted.
The children clung close to their guardians, until suddenly Damian bent down and scooped both into his arms—one on each side.
“D-Damian! They’re too heavy—give me Bonita!” Reina protested.
“They’re light. Don’t worry.”
The girls clung to his shoulders like two little bundles. Reina could only sigh and follow quickly, guiding them through the throng.
Finally they reached the tent where the troupe performed, but the line stretched endlessly. It might take hours before they could enter.
Reina frowned. “The children will get hungry…”
Damian scanned the area, spotted food stalls, and strode over. He pressed money into Reina’s hand.
“Wait here. Buy something to eat.”
“….”
Reina looked down—at a bill worth 100,000 Teon. Hardly “a little” spending money. The vendor turned pale at the sight of it. Reina quickly used her own coins instead, buying animal-shaped cookies for the children—Estelle chose a rabbit, Bonita a squirrel.
“Don’t you want one, Mama?” they asked.
Reina hesitated, until the vendor cheerfully offered her a pink flower-shaped cookie, saying it suited her. Under her daughters’ hopeful eyes, she agreed.
Just then, a man in a splendid uniform pushed through the crowd. Spotting her, his eyes went wide.
“…Madam! It really is you!”
“Eh?”
He rushed forward, clutching her hand with desperate joy.
