Chapter 51 – A Birthday to Remember

The morning sun filtered through the tall academy windows, painting golden rays over polished floors and flower-filled vases. It was a special day—one that had been whispered about in the halls for weeks, even if Elara had tried to pretend it was just another date on the calendar.

She had changed.

Two months had passed since the moment she had stopped pretending, since she'd embraced every layer of who she'd become. And though the change wasn't loud, it was undeniable. Her once carefully reserved demeanor had softened. Her steps had grown more relaxed, her laughter more frequent. She still worked just as hard, taught with just as much fire, and innovated with the same brilliance, but now… she allowed herself to enjoy the little things.

Lyria had been the first to notice. "You bought three new pairs of heels this week," she'd said one morning, smirking over tea. "And you're actually telling us about them."

Sylv had nodded, eyes glinting. "And she discussed the merits of coral pink versus rose gold for her next manicure for twenty minutes."

"It's not like I've changed completely," Elara had replied, half-pouting. "I just… I don't see the point in resisting anymore."

And resist she didn't. She began enjoying things she'd once dismissed—talking about fashion, experimenting with nail colors, and finding outfits that made her feel confident and radiant. She still spent most of her time in the lab, but there was something undeniably different in the way she walked and talked.

But with her growing acceptance of herself came a new set of challenges.

Being an 18-year-old woman in a society that saw powerful women as political assets had unintended consequences. Over the last several weeks, Elara had been approached more times than she could count by sons of noble houses, high-ranking military officials, and even minor royalty. Each came with flattery, compliments, and—most alarmingly—proposals.

"A union between House Wyrmshade and House Daramont would ensure stability in the western territories."

"We would offer five million gold in dowry and access to three enchanted mines."

"We seek not just your beauty, Lady Wyrmshade, but your wisdom."

Elara had politely turned down every single one. She had more money than the kingdom's treasury, no interest in politics, and certainly no desire to be auctioned into a loveless alliance. But something about the persistence of the offers—and the way they came not despite her status but because of it—left her deeply unsettled.

Kael noticed. "Should I start biting suitors?"

Elara chuckled, shaking her head. "Not yet. But… keep the idea on standby."

The Morning of Her Birthday

A knock on her door came at sunrise, followed by giggles and the rustle of fabric.

"Elaraaaa~! Wake up, birthday girl!" Lyria's voice was singsong sweet.

Before she could respond, the door burst open and in streamed Sylv, Lyria, and Kael—each dressed to the nines.

Sylv wore a sleek blue corset gown with silver trim and matching heels. Lyria sported a flowing red and gold mini-dress with open shoulders and sparkling sandals. Even Kael had traded her usual militant armor for an elegant high-cut black dress with golden dragon embroidery, though her arms were still armored and bracers proudly worn.

"W-What is going on?!" Elara groaned, shielding her eyes.

"You're 18 now," Sylv said. "And that means no school, no teaching, and definitely no working in your lab. Today, we celebrate."

They descended upon her, pulling her out of bed and practically dressing her themselves. After some debate—and a lot of teasing—they settled on Elara's outfit for the day: a deep violet silk dress with a high slit, sleeveless with a plunging neckline that hugged her figure gracefully. Around her neck, a silver choker etched with runes shimmered softly. Her shoes? Iridescent high heels with glass-like clarity and lace-up ribbons winding up her calves. Her nails sparkled in a matching lilac chrome.

Elara stared at her reflection. "…I look like I'm going to seduce a diplomat."

"That was the goal," Lyria winked.

They rode in a private carriage, first picking up Mira, who wore a flared pink dress and hugged Elara tightly.

"You look absolutely ravishing," Mira gushed. "And if you weren't already taken by your own genius, I'd say you could conquer kingdoms tonight."

Their first stop was a café brunch—Tolan had reserved the entire second floor. He stood by the window when they arrived, eyes warm as he turned to greet them.

"You're late," he said, mock stern.

"You're ancient," Elara replied with a smirk.

They all laughed and sat, enjoying fruit-stuffed pastries, floating cream tea, and mana-sweetened syrup pancakes. As they ate, Tolan leaned toward her.

"You're becoming someone very different, Elara. But it suits you."

Elara didn't answer right away. Instead, she smiled and quietly reached for another pastry.

The Royal Visit

Later that afternoon, they arrived at the palace. The guards greeted them with salutes, and Elara was welcomed by King Aldemar himself, who offered a small gift—an enchanted writing set, complete with a floating ink vial that never spilled.

Then came him.

Prince Elrin.

He approached with an enormous bouquet—flowers from every region of the continent, petals enchanted to shimmer and change color.

He dropped to one knee, much to Elara's horror.

"Lady Wyrmshade," he began, voice trembling slightly. "On this most sacred day commemorating the birth of brilliance, I extend not merely felicitations, but a testament to your awe-inspiring presence. May the celestial winds ever favor your path, and may your grace illuminate this kingdom as the moon does the tide."

Elara blinked.

"Uh… thank you?"

Sylv whispered, "He's trying so hard not to nosebleed. It's adorable."

She took the bouquet with a curtsy, cheeks glowing.

And… she liked it. She liked the way eyes followed her. She liked the way power, beauty, and intellect were no longer mutually exclusive.

Evening: Girls' Night Out

They said farewell to the court and Tolan walked them to the carriage.

"Come visit me tomorrow," he said softly to Elara. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about. Privately."

She nodded, curious.

Their carriage pulled up in front of a shimmering building glowing with rune-lit signage. Mira turned with a grin.

"Ready to party?"

Inside, the private bar had been transformed. Elegant velvet chairs, glittering lanterns, mana-laced cocktails, and a menu of magical drinks lined the counter.

Notable Fantasy Drinks:

Fairy Dust Spritz: Sparkles as you drink, gives a faint glow to the skin

Mermaid's Kiss: Blue with floating fruit pearls, tastes like ocean breeze and coconut

Dragon's Breath: Spicy cinnamon and cool mint, leaves your breath steaming

Sylph's Delight: Pink and citrusy, makes your hair float lightly

Elara Special: A newly invented sweet-vanilla almond blend that shimmers gold

Elara giggled as she sampled a few. By her third drink, her cheeks were glowing, her posture more relaxed, and her laughter louder than usual.

And then… he walked in.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, shirt half open, and hair tousled with intent. Lyria squealed. "The entertainment is here!!"

"What—?" Elara asked.

Sylv nudged her. "You'll see."

The man approached with a confident smirk and began… dancing.

Elara's jaw dropped.

She tried to backpedal, but the others had planned well. She was the target, the guest of honor, and now—front-row seat to a very enthusiastic performance.

Her cheeks flamed. "G-Girls?! What is—!?"

Kael appeared behind Mira, watching the scene carefully.

"Mistress seems to be aroused. Should I resume the heat cycle monitoring protocols?"

Mira facepalmed. "Kael, no. This is not about reproduction!"

Lyria laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair. "It's for fun, Kael! Pure entertainment. She's not in heat!"

Kael tilted her head. "So… it is ritualized mating courtship without intent?"

Sylv wheezed. "More or less. Let her enjoy it."

And she did. Embarrassed, flushed, and overwhelmed—Elara enjoyed it.

By the end of the night, the drinks were gone, the entertainment had bowed, and the girls were giggling their way back to the dorms.

Elara leaned back in the carriage, head resting against the velvet cushion.

She was 18 now.

She was brilliant, respected, powerful, desired—and for the first time in this life, she didn't feel like she was pretending anymore.

She was simply… Elara.

And she wouldn't trade that for anything.