Chương 61: CHAPTER 60 – Happy Birthday!

"Is everyone truly here?" Jeanne murmured, wiping her tears. Monica was smiling and laughing, pointing a finger at her face.

"Of course we are all here! How could we possibly forget your birthday?" She sprang upright, embracing her from behind and playing with her hair.

"If it had not been for Lucas and Lance, you wouldn't even have known it was her birthday…" Maliard murmured, cleaning the dirt from beneath his nails. Monica hissed a few insults, followed by a sharp jerk of the neck.

"Actually, I only informed Lance. He did the rest entirely on his own." The whole room turned to look at the boy, his hands under the hot water of the tap. Whistling, he seized his glasses and cleaned them with a dish towel, keeping his head down.

"How did you find out?" Jeanne asked, looking first at Lance, then at the scientist seated on the sofa.

"Lucas said you whispered it in your sleep." Lance answered, letting the drops of water fall from his fingers into the drain. Lucas nodded, murmuring some excuse.

"Eavesdropping on conversations, mostly from someone asleep? You two have become quite suspicious…" Monica smiled, covering her wide grin with her fingers. Immediately, Maliard seized her arm and made her sit down, handcuffing her to the chair.

"Where did you keep those?" Edvard asked, studying the small silver key with interest.

"I asked Maverick for them, for situations like this…" He answered, fixing his sister with crossed arms while she tried every way she could to free herself.

"Very funny… NOW LET ME GO!" The chair began rocking left and right, even bouncing.

"Perhaps if you stopped making that poor man Lance uncomfortable, you wouldn't be thrashing like a madwoman." He answered, sitting down at the table himself.

"Excuse me?! Now I am the disturbance? Every time you have gone after him unfairly, you have already erased it from your memory." Maliard, startled, slammed his fist on the table amid insults and shouting, instantly returned in kind by Monica.

"Yeah, we had some bad interactions, but everything is fine. Right, Lance?" Maliard grinned at him, all while Monica was flabbergasted.

"C'mon, Lance! Do you really prefer this brute to your cute commander?!" Monica was about to cry, but didn't quite stop glancing nervously at her brother.

"I... I..." The boy started babbling, biting his tongue multiple times.

"And here we go…" Maverick smiled, sitting beside Lucas with his legs spread and his body nearly fused to the sofa. Amid the attempts to calm them and the threats, a violent thud dominated over all the other sounds.

"EVERYONE STOP!!!" A wooden crate continued to rattle on the table, loaded with bottles of various colours. Their shape was strangely squared, resembling a rectangle, with a dark, cloudy liquid dancing inside. Every eye in the room fell on Lautre, a small blue corkscrew in hand.

"If you must argue, drink something first!" With a gesture that would have made any waiter jealous, he uncorked the bottles. He immediately looked Lance in the eyes, giving him a single nod. Panicked, the boy set small glasses with violet rims on the table. Lautre took a bottle and filled them all halfway, then pointed toward Monica and Maliard.

"You really made it this time?!" Monica smiled, immediately draining the liquid down her throat. A shiver ran across her skin, followed by a huff.

"It is almost like the original! Well done, Lautre and Lucas!" Suddenly she seized a bottle by the neck and filled her glass again. Maliard murmured something under his breath and sipped at his drink.

"It seems good…" Lance carefully took a glass from the table, drinking it fairly quickly. The sweetish taste and the bitter aftertaste of the alcohol flooded his palate and throat.

"I would not have taken you for the type to handle stuff like this." Edvard joked, setting his glass on the kitchen island. Jeanne took one and brought it to her lips, tasting it briefly.

"It tastes of honey and almonds and is almost mild… How strong is it, out of curiosity?" Lance examined the few drops left at the bottom of his glass, rotating it between his fingers.

"Strange that you would call it mild, since half of it is alcohol…" Maliard joked, handing the liqueur to Arte and Sai.

"Really?! Beyond beer and grain liquor, I have never tried anything else." Lance answered, handing Jeanne a slice of cake. Ravenously, the girl skewered it with her fork.

"You like Crooked Rice?!" Lautre exclaimed, standing up and shaking his shoulders.

"Yes, exactly that one… An old woman in my building had me try it once, when I was coming back from a delivery." Lautre brightened, muttering something about his own supply.

"In any case, this cake is excellent! I am glad to know my breakfast was not wasted." Noel seized a slice and threw it into his mouth.

"That used to be the Founder's favourite liquor, though the recipe is incomplete, so every batch of ours comes out a little different from the original..." Hoku explained, tapping Noel on the shoulder. During the conversation, Jeanne had already had another slice of cake handed to her.

"In any case, what were you two talking about?" Monica asked, her head resting entirely on the table. Her blonde hair scattered across her face, lit by the flush of the drink.

"Hm? Did you hear something?" Lance asked, tapping his foot on the ground as though keeping time with some music.

"What, what?" She smiled, sliding her finger along the rim of her glass. The golden reflection of her face danced across her heavy, flushed forehead.

"What were you two talking about, come on… Tell me a little." She raised her head, trying to get back to her feet. The strap of the handcuff let out a faint metallic click, followed by a screech. In less than a blink of an eye, Monica found herself thrashing on the floor, dragging the chair along with her.

"I honestly expected that…" Maliard said, tired, bending down to free her. Monica was now busy dozing, motionless on the rug.

"I will take her." Lucas seized her, sitting her down beside him. Slowly, Monica's head settled against his shoulder, and her breathing began to slow.

"Do you like the cake, Rea?" Lance asked, smiling at the girl in Jeanne's arms, her lips and cheeks smeared with cream. She nodded clumsily, smearing the mess across her face even further.

"I would take that as a yes, if I were you." Lautre joked, setting a second glass on the table. Suddenly Arte appeared from the crowd, laden with packages and bags held together in a precarious, unsettling balance. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"She can't really speak that well yet, right?" Lance asked, ruffling the girl's head.

"Years of abuse do not wash away easily, but I think now that she is just happy!" Rea jumped on Lautre's lap, starting to hum a song.

"Did you already figure that out?! You make me proud, girl!" He began singing too, following the little child's notes.

"Lautre would have been quite the father... If he only wasn't normal for just two hours a day." Edvard sighed before smiling at Rea. §"Mr Clerc... I-is gentle and nice to me! I like him a lot!" Jeanne and Lance both smiled, soon finding themselves laughing.

"See, Eddy? I'm way more popular than you!" The blind man laughed with all of them, while Edvard nodded with his fingers caressing his beard.

"I have to say that Rea does look quite different from most people in the archipelago." Lautre sighed, smiling one last time at the girl before dropping her off.

"She is from Termìe. Men and women from that empire have strange blue eyes and blond hair. They are most of the time pallid, but there are some noble families with darker skin." Jeanne nervously scratched her arm, listening with her eyes down. Rea hid behind Edvard's legs.

"I guess this is not a good topic either?" Lautre nodded at the boy's words.

"This is not the time for such a discussion. Let's just say that andimicans and termicians have more poison than good intentions in their blood."

"If you want to know more, even Hoku and I are from a different part of the world!" Noel smiled, pumping his chest.

"I thought about it! You are way more muscular than anybody I have seen!" Lance laughed, flexing his arm.

"Well, people from Turgnevet, my country, are way more muscular. Maybe it has to do with all that survival in the desert?"

"Sorry, but... Shouldn't you know?" Noel shrugged"My family managed to reach the forest line. Only the eastern part of the nation is desert, and NOIR's researchers have already thought that a singularity might be the culprit. I don't care, frankly, about the place. I remember so little."

"Yeah, I agree. Both Noel and I are basically refugees. Our homes are isolated from the bigger empires of the world, and are way more vulnerable to any form of corruption caused by Hel, not to mention the declining economy." The duo nodded almost simultaneously.

"Frankly, most of the people here find us strange, but they seldom hate us openly, unlike termicians." Hoku nugged the sword's hilt.

"The problem is that both Sol and Turgnevet, together with all the small states that divide Northest and Termìe, didn't openly participate in the Great War, thus nobody sees them as a valid partner for commerce." Edvard puffed a small ring of smoke, standing at the corner of the window, away from Rea.

"Not sure about that. The government knows way too well how to convince their people to give their lands away." Maliard sighed, tapping his fingers on his knee.

"That's how the economy works, baby! Trash and beat to eat what remains! Those fu... Idiots in Sector V are way too happy with the current situation to ever stop." Lautre whistled, covering Rea's ears.

"Now, now. Despite it being interesting, this political discussion is not a good pairing with this festive moment." Lucas' distorted voice rose from the couch.

"I do have to agree. This is a fine party." Arte smiled, drinking from her glass.

"A birthday does need presents, after all! I had almost forgotten." Noel joked, striking Hoku squarely on the back with a slap.

"Really? You truly did not have to… What you have already done for me is more than enough." Edvard appeared behind her, his expression far more severe than usual. He placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to turn around.

"I do not find it polite to silence anyone, women especially, but for now it is best to accept without any regrets." Jeanne saw all the smiles and laughter in the room, returning them with glistening eyes.

"This one is mine!" Maverick exclaimed as Arte handed the girl of honour a small black box. It was light, square, and strangely rough. Inside, wrapped in a thin bluish scarf, was a brooch shaped like a sunflower.

"I imagined you might like it! The scarf was an extra." The engineer joked, urging the girl to put it on. At first she tried to fasten it to her clothes, but quickly realised where it truly belonged.

"It really suits you." Edvard smiled, watching the golden sunflower shine among Jeanne's hair. The whole room gave a nod of approval, at least those who still could.

"Now open mine. I want to see what you think." Lautre added, pointing to the small paper bag in Arte's hands. Inside, a black glass vial with metallic violet leaves fused across its surface.

"Mr. Clerc is a perfumer by passion. Fortunately, he had already prepared it before knowing about your party." Arte explained briefly as Jeanne rotated the vial between her fingers.

"Lavender, honey, vanilla, and a touch of distillate. I might even consider it my masterpiece." Satisfied, he struck his own chest with his fist, fixing the exasperated Edvard.

"M-mine…" Poor, drowsy Monica murmured, pointing to a much larger bag. Arte took its contents and handed it to her, smiling with a hint of emotion.

"That is decidedly the best gift…" Lucas smiled, seeing the black dress in Jeanne's hands. The long garment was thick and lustrous, lending an air of maturity and refinement.

"Though it might fit you a little more snugly than it did Bluette." Jeanne and Lance both immediately turned their gazes toward the scientist, lips parted, eyes wide.

"I cannot accept this…" She stared at the fabric in her hands and immediately tried to put it back into the bag, which suddenly vanished from her grip.

"If Monica realised you were refusing it, she would already have attacked you." Lucas smiled, his fingers pressed against his temples. Jeanne turned her gaze back to the dress and immediately pressed it to her chest.

"In any case… Lance, your gift?" Maliard asked, seizing a package from the ground and holding it under his arm. The boy immediately began slowly slipping toward the corner.

"Come now, words alone will do, you know…" Lautre smiled, weaving his thumb between his index and middle fingers, only to be struck full in the face by Edvard.

"Mr. Klint arranged the entire evening on his own. I would say that counts as more than enough." Arte answered, cleaning up the crumbs Noel had left on the floor, now busy dozing beside Hoku, no less drowsy himself.

"In any case, excellent work… NOW IT IS TIME FOR ANOTHER ROUND!" Lautre exclaimed, tearing Edvard's hand away from his own mouth and beginning to refill the glasses.

"I am going to fetch my present. I will be right back…" Before he could even turn toward the door, Monica's boot struck Maliard's face squarely. Amid laughter, shouting, and squabbles, the first night of celebration for the agency began to pass without doubt or regret.