The dinner proceeded well.

  It was a fine dinner, prepared by the two maids. Usually, the food in the palace was the food prepared by the royal chefs. Such food was usually supremely good, so much so that even a simple onion soup by the palace was so top-notch that the average commoner who would have a taste of it would leave with tears in their eyes.

  It seemed that Marie and Phoebe had the ability to rival such cooking, as it was also top-notch, maybe even better, though Marcus wanted to doubt any possibility of that stuck-up elven maid being capable of cooking. In his mind, he imagined she just did the cutting while the kinder maid, Marie, did the rest.

  In any case, Stella and Marcus had a good evening eating two cuts of steak, which had a fine demi-glace on top, alongside a few servings of broccoli and creamy mashed potatoes. There were also a few toasts with ‘caviar’ on top—a strange fish egg foodstuff that Marcus had never once tasted in his life—alongside, of course, Stella’s favorite, a strawberry cake in the end.

  Marcus, on the other hand, decided not to indulge too much in sweets, as Marie already offered a nice crème br?lée after their meal while they were talking about the finances of Stella’s charities. Once he was finished with that, it was largely just Stella taking bites off her cake while she was explaining things to him.

  “As such, we have more than enough money not just to pay for the charities.” Stella’s smile brightened. “We also have enough money to run their operations for a year or more!”

  “Oh…” Marcus nodded. “That’s…quite a lot.”

  “Of course, I realize, you worked hard for said money, so of course—”

  “Give me ten or twenty percent of whatever money that is,” Marcus waved his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m a man of very meager needs. As you’ve said, the loot we have on our hands is going to be selling for a very high sum of money.”

  Marcus laughed. “I have the faintest of ideas on what I’ll even do with that. I think it’s better off helping people.”

  “My, so Sir Marcus does have a good heart in him,” Phoebe teased from the back. She was currently sitting on another table, lightly sipping wine—at night, no less!

  “Shut up,” was Marcus’s dry response. “Why do people always think I’m some kind of a heartless bastard?”

  “To be fair, you do appear like one,” Marie said, as she dutifully cleaned the table off their plates after Stella finished her cake. “Not only do you disguise yourself too much, but your mannerism is brash, cold, and too harsh. It’s quite the dichotomy to your softer features when you remove your mask.”

  That’s her practically calling me a boy.

  Marcus sighed. One thing he learned as he was getting used to not using his mask around them was that they regarded him as the youngest of the bunch. Stella, who seemed so youthful and innocent, actually had a much more mature facial structure than Marcus. His time in hell had greatly aged his expressions, and Marcus’s hair, according to Marie’s examinations, actually was already greying out.

  Probably due to stress. He didn’t know. But his face itself remained the same way it was ages ago, when he entered hell during the Glorious Expedition. He was drafted practically as a late teen to the war, and he still looked like one. It was one of the strange effects of hell. The passage of time there was so different that it was as if all of them were ageless.

  Until now that he was out of it, of course. Marcus believed that for how many years he spent in hell, he should be a middle-aged man already. He didn’t look one bit like one, and even the system still displayed the same age he had when he entered hell—eighteen. He imagined that would only change for the first time once he reached his birthday.

  Birthday?

  That made him shift on his seat a bit.

  “...Hey, can I ask something?”

  “Hmm? What is it?” Stella asked, after taking a sip of her tea.

  “What day is it?”

  She smiled. “It’s December 3. Why?”

  “Oh…winter must be really close now, huh…?”

  “Yes, though, it seems like it’s a bit late this year. Normally, the first snowfall should have happened right around a week ago.”

  “Shifts in weather. It’s normal.”

  Marcus lightly nodded to avoid telling the truth about his situation. He had almost forgotten about this, as in hell, he never really celebrated his birthday. There was no chance for him to do it in between battle and survival. Now though, it was different. Surrounded by good people, in a secure place, with very little trouble, save for the occasional headache of the king trying to approach him for currying favors, the situation for Marcus was different.

  Back then, I always came home to celebrate it with Mom and Dad.

  His last birthday was a bit of a troubled one. His mother didn’t want him to go, and neither did his father, but, with the reality that he was forcefully drafted and would soon be sent to an expedition, they gave him the best celebration he ever had. The food was good, and he loved the company of his family, but it was a somber day.

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  Still, he had a birthday celebration. Most folks back then, and maybe even today, rarely even had one. It was a tradition of the aristocrats and wealthy nobles, largely, with poorer peasants largely only having a slightly better meal for the day and whatnot. Back then, before Marcus was sent to the war, he had genuine cake for once.

  “Hey, is there really no reason for you asking about the date?” Stella sweetly asked. “You look like you’re thinking about something deeply.”

  “Ah…well…” Marcus awkwardly tried to look away. “It’s nothing really major.”

  “Nothing? Why so?”

  “It’s just…” He tried looking away from the elven saint, only for his eyes to end up on Marie. He looked down. No point in mulling around. With a sigh, he answered. “My birthday is in four days. As I’ve said, nothing major.”

  Stella’s eyes widened. Marie nearly dropped the small plate she was about to place on a tray. Phoebe placed her wine glass down.

  “What?”

  “Your birthday is on the 7th!” They all shouted in unison.

  “What about it?” Marcus winced, covering his ears. “I said it’s not a big deal.”

  Stella slammed her fist on the table as she stood up. “Absolutely not. Marcus, your birthday is important!”

  Like a commander on the battlefield, she quickly snapped at Marie.

  “Marie, take note of this. Make preparations and reservations on the 7th.”

  “Yes, Lady Stella.”

  “Phoebe, I want you to make a trip to that fine spice vendor at the south side of the city. Tell him I need the best ones.”

  “Sure, of course.”

  Marcus waved his hands. “W-w-wait!”

  “And,” Stella pulled out a notepad and a fountain pen as she walked close to him, her eyes beaming. “Marcus, I want you to make a list of things you love and like. Anything will do, and I’ll see what can be done.”

  Marcus groaned. “I think…you’re pulling out too many things for me for no reason.”

  “Uhm…” Stella seemed confused. “But it’s your birthday. A birthday is a big deal.”

  “Not that big of a deal,” Marcus chuckled. “Your royal brain is assuming too much.”

  Stella stared at him as if her mind was empty of thoughts before her lips formed a tiny ‘O’ shape. “Oh…uhm…so, what do you want?”

  Marcus laughed. She just couldn’t understand him. Well, he wouldn’t blame her. She was an aristocrat. Of course, to her, such events were major family events, traditionally. Something that the family should splurge on.

  “How about…” Marcus tried to find a good idea in his mind. “How about a little stroll in Meriel’s Haven? Maybe a little feast there with all the children around? I don’t really need something too big. Right, I think that would do…”

  Marcus smiled to himself. “I would like to see the effect of my work. Before leaving this place, I’d like to see the people your charity cares for in good shape.”

  “That’s…that’s all you want?”

  “Isn’t that a good reward enough?” Marcus asked. “I worked with you to make sure that the debt and operating costs of your charities would be met. I think seeing the results of that would be a nice thing to see.”

  Stella leaned back before sighing to herself. “Alright. I’ll make preparations for it then.”

  “Splurge more on the children, can you?” Marcus said. “That would be much, much better.”

  “Alright. If you say so.”

  Stella had a smile so bright on her face. Marcus, on the other hand, felt like he was being truly righteous for the first time.

  Ahh…being morally superior really does make your ego bloom, eh?

  “Sir Marcus sure is a bold man, huh?” Phoebe remarked, as she gently styled Stella’s hair.

  It was already December 7, 382 YV. Today was Marcus’s birthday. To say that Stella wasn’t excited about it was an understatement. While Marcus’s requests caused her to downsize most of her more…elaborate and grand plans for his birthday, she still organized many things with Marie, Phoebe, and even Louise for their planned visit to the orphanage today.

  It would be a surprise celebration for the children. Today was Monday, with the first snowfall starting just yesterday, with a brief blizzard last night. She imagined many of the kids in the orphanage were now preparing for another dreary day of schooling, most of them idly watching as snowflakes lazily fell from the skies as their lectures went on.

  “I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Stella smiled. “But I can see why it’s a good plan.”

  “Hmm? Is that so?”

  “Yes,” Stella smiled brightly. “I can’t wait to deliver a lot of good food with him for the children today. I’m sure they will be happy today. And well, being with him, I suppose, that’s great too.”

  “Uhuh…” Phoebe’s gentle hands began tying Stella’s hair. “You know, it sounds like a date of some kind.”

  Stella’s face turned pink. “S-surely not. I mean, you’re all there too.”

  Though, I really wouldn’t mind…if he earnestly asked for one.

  “...Maybe not.” Phoebe considered Stella’s words.

  Stella pouted a bit. “Phoebe, you’re teasing us too much. I hope you can reduce that, especially today, when it’s Marcus’s special day! I don’t want him being annoyed and confused because of you.”

  “Sorry,” Phoebe winked as she glanced at the mirror. “I just can’t help it! But I suppose, this time around, I’ll cool it a little bit.”

  “Hmph.”

  Right then, a gentle knock on the door interrupted the two. Marie’s voice could be heard from outside. “Sir Marcus says he’s ready!” Marie reported. “He’s asking where Stella is.”

  “Tell him to give us a few more minutes!” Phoebe replied, before turning back to Stella. “Goodness, that man. Didn’t he just wake up ten minutes ago?”

  “He’s…well, he’s a former soldier, so that’s actually slow for him.”

  “Pfft. Won’t even spare an effort fixing his appearance on his day, huh?” Phoebe shook her head. “Commoner men, I swear.”