10 Happy Birthday

Veronica was so easy to please. Why settle for simple wildflowers when she could have had a glorious garden? Had the person she was supposed to be married off to been that horrible?

Rukelion had the sudden, useless thought that she would have loved the palace gardens. Why bother thinking of such a thing? She would never see them. They had been destroyed along with everything else.

He was willing to bet that any other potential survivors had fled and assimilated into other kingdoms the way he had since their homes were destroyed. That or they had been taken as prisoners of war and turned into slaves by the Mireans. His blood boiled at the thought.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he focused on his cider. He was fine. He was dealing with his exhaustion because it would lead him to his ultimate goal. He would avenge all of them!

He needed a distraction so he blurted the first thing that came to mind outside of his rather depressing thoughts. "What's your favorite flower other than daisies?"

Veronica did not disappoint. "Roses. Specifically, hybrid tea roses since there are so many different subclasses. My favorite ones are bicolored. Yellow and pink. They're beautiful! But I also really like the purple ones…and the ones with petals that go from white to red."

After that, she went on about various subspecies of roses that he had no idea existed for quite a while before switching to talking about her third favorite flower, lilacs, and all of the different types of those. He had never realized one person could be so full of flower facts. She probably knew more than any gardener.

Where would she have learned all of this? Gardening, like baking, wasn't a common skill among the nobility.

Rukelion was fascinated by what she was saying even though flowers had never been of great interest to him. They had hardly crossed his mind at all before he found out she loved them.

He wanted to know more about this strange girl. Deep down, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it, he knew he would miss her terribly when he left. But he couldn't get her involved in his plans.

Someday…if everything was all said and done and she was still here on her own…could he come back for her with the promise of giving her all the flowers she could ever want? Would that even work on a person like her?

He was surprised at himself for even thinking such a ridiculous thing. He was going to be a tyrant. A war criminal. A villain. He couldn't have any attachments.

And yet when she smiled at him so brightly, he couldn't help but wish things were different. He would have liked her even if she hadn't been the one who saved his life; he was certain of it.

Rukelion liked Veronica a lot since she was the one good thing in his life but he would be leaving her and couldn't allow himself to have any flights of fancy that would distract him from his goal. Revenge was all that mattered.

That being said, he still brought her flowers the next day on his way back from his morning training. The look on her face made the extra effort while he was exhausted worth it. He wasn't aware of it then but his lie to Barry was about to become much less of a lie than he thought.

Fall turned to winter but his training didn't stop since this region didn't have very heavy snowfall. He wasn't sure where Veronica got them but she managed to find a pair of thick boots, gloves, a coat, a hat, and a scarf in his size and those helped him get through being outside in the cold.

There was much less for her to do these days since the majority of the crops were dormant in winter. She spent time cleaning the house and tending the animals but there wasn't much to do aside from that.

Not one to be idle, she spent a lot of time doing things that had been put off during the busier season such as mending clothes. Every so often she would prick her finger and wince, which always made Rukelion frown. She shouldn't be injuring herself for things like this.

He began thinking that he could send her money anonymously to take care of herself with and leave those things to others and hire more farmhands to lessen her load once he was in charge. Over time, those thoughts were replaced with ones daydreaming about simply bringing her to the palace with him and allowing her to live the life of luxury she had as a child.

He liked the thought of that more than he should have considering there was very little chance she would agree to such a thing. Who would accept help or companionship from someone that overthrew the monarchs of their country?

Those thoughts festered all winter long. He was becoming stronger by the day in both his sword training and his magic now that he had more time to practice that without any real farm work to do. His eyes needed to stay on the prize so he did his best to push them away but they always came back.

One day, Rukelion was coming back from a productive magic training session in the forest and found Veronica puttering around in the kitchen singing something sadly to herself. "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear—WHOA!"

She clutched a hand to her heart and leaned against the counter. "Leo, you nearly gave me a heart attack! A little warning next time."

"Sorry. What it is you were singing just now?" he asked with a frown.

"Oh…it's a birthday song. Today is my birthday so I'm making myself a cake. Kind of sad, huh?"

Her birthday?! She had never said anything! If he had known, he could have done something for her. But what? It wasn't like he had any money. Using her money to buy her something would be kind of against the point.

"You should have said something, Veronica!"

Veronica shrugged and continued stirring the batter. "I didn't see the point. No one has celebrated my birthday in years."

Years? Had she truly been here at the farm that long? Surely her family would have celebrated her birthday even if the parties weren't as lavish as the ones he experienced as a child.

"Well, I want to celebrate your birthday somehow," Rukelion insisted stubbornly. "Wait here."

He ran back to the mercenary camp as fast as he could and, panting, asked where Barry was. Firrol, a mercenary he had managed to beat in a fight for the first time last week, pointed him in the right direction.

He found the leader of the mercenary band polishing his sword. Barry looked up curiously when he heard someone enter.

"What are you doing here? I sent you home an hour ago."

"Yes but I came back," Rukelion puffed. "I need to ask a favor. Please loan me three bronze coins so I can buy Veronica a birthday present. I didn't know it was her birthday until I got home but I can't let the day pass without doing something for her."

Barry laughed. "Look at you being all romantic! And here I thought you were the strong, silent type who never expressed your feelings in front of your girl. I won't loan you money but I will give it to you. You're only young once."

He certainly hadn't expected that. "…are you sure?"

"I've had a special lady friend before too. I know what it's like. Go on."

Rukelion thanked him profusely before sprinting back out of the camp and to town. By now, his lungs were about fit to burst from all the running he had been doing in the frigid air. He knew exactly what he wanted to get since he had seen Veronica admire it the last time they were in town a few days ago. He sincerely hoped no one had bought it since then.

He was in luck. The white ribbon with embroidered red flowers on it was exactly where it had been the last time he saw it. He paid the woman running the stall the three coins and sprinted back to the farm, sure to collect himself for a moment before going inside so he wasn't a wheezing mess in front of Veronica.

"Here," he said once he was inside and held it out to her. "Happy birthday."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "How did you get this?"

"I didn't steal it if that's what you're wondering. A simple 'thank you' would have sufficed."

Veronica laughed and accepted the ribbon now that she was sure it wasn't stolen goods. Did she truly think so little of him? Well, he supposed she didn't know about the mercenaries and was aware that he didn't have a coin to his name. It wasn't an unreasonable assumption to make.