A Gift of Love

"Knock! Knock!"

A firm but gentle tapping echoed through the wooden door of my room.

"Young Master—I will help you change your clothes. Can you please open the door?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. It was early morning, and the warm glow of the sun filtered through the large windows of my lavish bedroom. The soft breeze rustled the curtains, but even that peaceful moment was interrupted by the persistent voice outside my door.

"I can do it myself. You don't have to worry," I called out, trying to sound firm.

"But—"

"Okay, okay, just come in."

The door creaked open, and a middle-aged woman stepped inside. She wore a neatly pressed maid's uniform, her apron pristine as always. Her short brown hair framed her kind yet slightly mischievous face, and the moment she laid eyes on me, an amused smile curled her lips.

"Carla," I said, crossing my arms, "I already told you yesterday that you don't have to come. And yet, here you are again—with that cheeky smile."

Carla, my personal maid, had been looking after me ever since I could remember. She had a warm personality, but her overprotectiveness bordered on excessive. No matter how much I insisted that I could handle myself, she refused to stop fussing over me.

"And I already told you that I will help you get ready," she replied, placing her hands on her hips. "Still, you look adorable in these clothes."

"Shut up! It's not cute at all. It's embarrassing." I scowled and turned away, but that only made Carla chuckle.

I caught my reflection in the large, ornate mirror standing by the wall. A boy with white hair and crimson eyes stared back at me. His pale skin contrasted sharply with the deep red of his irises . His face—no, my face—was delicate, with features too refined to belong to an ordinary boy. If I were to be honest, I did look… cute. Ugh.

It had been five years since I reincarnated into this world. At first, it was confusing—waking up in a completely new body, in a noble household no less. The language, the customs, the people—everything was different. But I adapted. I had to.

This world had magic, something I had only read about in fantasy stories from my past life. However, mages were rare, and those who wielded magic were considered almost mythical. I was curious—aching to explore, to see the wonders beyond these walls.

But I had never been outside.

For reasons I still didn't fully understand, I was forbidden from leaving the mansion. I had only seen glimpses of the world through the windows or read about it in books. It was like being a fairy trapped in a gilded cage—beautiful, luxurious, yet confined.

Carla, unaware of my inner thoughts, stepped closer and gently adjusted the collar of my shirt. "There. Now, you look presentable. You should be grateful to have someone like me taking care of you, Young Master."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She grinned, unfazed by my sarcasm. "Now, shall we go? Breakfast is ready, and you know how the head maid gets mad when you're late."

I sighed again, reluctantly following her out of the room. Another day in this grand yet suffocating mansion. But someday… someday, I would find a way to break free from this cage and see the world with my own eyes.

"Umm… young master?"

Carla's soft voice pulled me from my thoughts just as I was about to take my first bite of breakfast. I looked up to see her standing hesitantly beside me, her hands clutching something small.

"What's the matter? Do you have something to say?" I asked, noticing the uncertainty in her eyes.

She hesitated for a moment before stepping forward, extending a tiny box toward me.

"Ah… this is for you. Happy Birthday," she said, her voice warm yet a little unsure.

I blinked in surprise. A gift? From her?

Reaching out, I carefully took the box from her hands. The gentle glow in her expression felt unfamiliar to me—almost like a mother's warmth, something I had barely ever known.

"Thank you… Can I open it now?" I asked, my fingers tightening around the box, excitement bubbling inside me.

She chuckled softly. "Hehe… Of course, young master. You may open it."

With great care, I lifted the lid, revealing a single black earring nestled inside.

My heart skipped a beat.

"What? Why are you giving me this? This is… this is for girls!" I stammered, my voice laced with confusion.

Carla didn't flinch at my reaction. Instead, she smiled gently. "It's beautiful, isn't it? It will suit you perfectly. And… it's my family heirloom, so it's very precious."

I swallowed, staring at the small piece of jewelry.

"If it's so precious… why are you giving it to me?" My fingers trembled as I tried to hand it back to her. "I don't need this. You should keep it. Something like this is wasted on someone like me."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. A bitter truth I had long believed.

Before I could react, Carla stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.

Mmph—

"W-What are you doing?" I gasped, frozen in place.

Her embrace was warm, unlike anything I had felt before. It wasn't forceful, nor was it hesitant. It was steady, comforting—like an anchor pulling me away from the storm inside me.

"Don't ever say that you're not precious," she whispered, holding me tighter. "You are far more precious than this gift."

Something inside me cracked. The words I had always longed to hear… the warmth I had never been given… and yet, it came from her.

I clenched my fists. My vision blurred slightly, but I quickly blinked it away.

"Okay… I'll take it," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "But… why is there only one? Where's the other?"

Carla finally pulled back, smiling softly. "The other one… I gave it to my daughter. She's the same age as you, but she's not as bright. She can hardly speak."

I stared at her in surprise. Carla had a daughter? My age?

A strange feeling stirred within me—curiosity, sadness, and a little bit of longing.

"Okay… but when will Mother arrive?" I asked hesitantly.

Carla's expression softened. "She will be here at noon. She'll be having lunch with you."

A lump formed in my throat.

Mother.

After my birth, she and that person divorced. I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen her since then. And every time she came, she felt farther away.

Yet, despite it all…

"Hehe… I'm excited," I muttered, a small smile creeping onto my lips.

Even if she hated me… I will always loved my mother.