Chapter 44 Happy Birthday "I'm thinking... about the sea."...
"Birthday?" Ashlin exclaimed in surprise, a smile spreading across her face. "Oh dear, why didn't you tell me your birthday was coming up? How old are you? Seventeen, right?"
The black cat nodded reluctantly.
"when?"
I won't tell you.
Ashlin lowered her eyes, looked at him sadly, and made a wronged expression.
"I thought we were good friends."
“Yes, we are.” Lucas sighed, captivated by her green puppy eyes. “Meow. Well, tomorrow is my seventeenth birthday. From now on, no elves will threaten me with sketches anymore.”
"Tomorrow?!" Ashlin would have jumped out of her skin if she hadn't been wrapped in a blanket. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? How am I supposed to prepare a birthday surprise for you now?"
The black cat looked at her as if she had three heads.
"Birthday surprise? You must be kidding me. We're in a cave in the snow-capped mountains, penniless and almost out of food. What kind of surprise could you possibly prepare for me? You don't even know what I like to eat."
"Oh, so what do you like to eat?" Ashlind seized the opportunity to ask. "Let me guess, eel jelly?"
“I like eel now,” Lucas thought for a moment, “but I suspect it has something to do with cats. Back in the palace, I preferred almond pudding.”
Ashlyn shrugged. She rarely had the freedom to choose what to eat in her life. Sanova's terrible cooking had ruined her appetite, and she would have been malnourished if it weren't for the "charity" from Mia Collins' family.
Now that they had just regained some body temperature, the hunger that had been suppressed by the cold began to rave. Her stomach complained incessantly of its emptiness, trying to argue with her again and again, louder than the raging wind outside.
"If you were in the palace right now, you'd be celebrating a grand birthday banquet," she said longingly, ignoring the rumbling in her stomach. "A huge multi-tiered cake, silk dresses..."
“And the endless fake smiles and flattery,” Lucas added. “No, thanks, meow. I’d rather spend my birthday in a cave with you than go back to the palace.”
"You hate the palace."
Lucas lowered his head.
“I don’t understand,” Ashlin said. “If Elaine is suitable and willing to be the crown princess, why is there so much controversy?”
The black cat chuckled.
Ashley hadn't thought about that. She never felt that any particular quality was unique to one gender; in River Bend, everyone was equally poor. Of course, another reason was that she was born in a new era where everyone received the same education. That kind of thinking was outdated.
“What he thinks is not important,” Ashley said. “What matters is what you think.”
“You’ve got it backwards. My thoughts are irrelevant to anyone, especially this country,” Lucas said. “You don’t know what those ministers are saying; they think I’ll follow in my uncle’s footsteps.”
After saying this, he seemed to realize something and suddenly looked a little panicked.
“Your uncle?” Ashlin asked. “You mean Duke Langrit?”
“Yes,” the black cat immediately said. “He was a daydreamer in his lifetime, decadent and useless, spending his days in taverns. He never personally went to the battlefield during the Dragon Clan War.”
Ashlin narrowed her eyes. His response was too quick, like a memorized, official answer.
She disliked doubting others, especially her friends, but she didn't know much about the Deville family, which meant that she actually knew almost nothing about Lucas.
This wasn't the first time Lucas had reacted strangely. Previously, she had simply assumed the guy was frightened by the curse, or that he was just naturally a little odd.
But what if he actually has other secrets?
When she began to doubt Aidan, she lowered her guard without giving it much thought; she waited to see what the consequences would be.
The Duke of Langrit died more than twenty years ago at the young age of twenty, before she was even born. He is not often mentioned, because a duke who accomplished nothing and died young is really not interesting.
A strong sense of curiosity captivated her. But if Lucas wanted, he would tell her. So, despite her dissatisfaction, she didn't ask any further.
The black cat suddenly stood up.
“Lucas, listen to me. Sanova has always told me that true magic comes from within. If you don’t even listen to your own heart, then magic is meaningless. The same applies to you: if a prince doesn’t follow his heart, how will his people know to uphold their own hearts, and how will they know to be loyal to anyone?”
“So what can I do after listening to my heart?” the black cat asked. “You grew up in the free river bend, Ashlin… you don’t know what life is like for nobles. It’s not as simple as you think.”
Ashlin pouted.
Indeed. But I hope that one day you will listen to me.
"because?"
"Because the forest is always real."
The black cat stared at her intently, then said nothing more.
They sat there quietly, enveloped in the warmth of the campfire. Ashlin gently stroked the black cat's head and back, and a soft purring sound emanated from it.
He fell asleep.
The heavy snow gradually subsided, falling as lightly as goose feathers.
He transformed back into a half-human, half-cat form. Of course, only for an hour.
This also means that it is now midnight.
“Happy birthday, Prince Lucas!” Ashlin laughed, handing Lucas a crown made of pine branches. “It’s a pity there aren’t any real green plants around. I think a blue wreath would suit you better! Do you think the orc wreath could be customized in color? How about forget-me-nots?”
The crown bound his two cat ears, causing them to tremble.
“Thank you, Ashlin,” Lucas said helplessly. “This is the most…biting gift I’ve ever received.”
“At least one of us is only sixteen,” Ashley said.
Lucas grinned.
Half of his face was hidden in shadow, while the other half was outlined in a clear and smooth shape by the warm campfire, his jet-black, shoulder-length curly hair hanging down in a messy yet elegant manner in front of his eyes.
In an instant, Ashlin felt an intoxicating warmth, not from a campfire, not from a blanket, and not from a warming spell.
She boldly raised her head, looking into Lucas's eyes, her heart racing, feeling as if she were struggling to breathe in the ocean. He gazed back at her, the branch crown loosening and falling onto his lap.
"What are you thinking about?" Lucas suddenly asked.
Ashlin took a few centimeters back, ruffled her hair, and looked... looked anywhere, anywhere that wasn't Lucas's gaze.
“I’m thinking…” she took a deep breath, “the sea.”
She was not lying.
Lucas was very surprised. "The sea?"
"Yes. I was thinking... let's become pirates, just you and me."
"Are you serious? I can't even swim. Unless, you think a cat can learn to doggy paddle."
“Let me cheer up, okay?” Ashlin said. “Actually, we’re not in the snow. We’re on a pirate ship together, robbing sailors! Killing octopus monsters! Fighting off storms!”
Lucas chuckled softly; it was the same melodious laugh Ashlin had ever heard.
"What's the name of our pirate ship, Miss Witch?"
“‘Light Ash,’ how about it? Your name means light, and mine means ashes,” Ashlin proposed loudly. “Now, our ship is about to set sail!”
"The vines are ready, sir."
A cold wind howled outside, and the cave entrance seemed to sway precariously, as if they were truly on a pirate ship. Ashlin laughed and covered her ears, while Lucas's tail wrapped around her arm, tickling her slightly.
“You know what I’m thinking?” Lucas said. “Next, I should write a book; you should sell herbs to help others, we’ll make money from that, and then we’ll continue our adventures.”
"You? Write a book?"
“Of course! The grammar and foreign languages I learned in the palace can’t be wasted, right?” Lucas said cheerfully. “We can ride dragons, learn magic, invent machines with dwarves, make new sculptures for elves, and fight orcs…”
"You mean, you were beaten down by the orcs?"
"Then write that we won. Writer's privilege."
As he spoke, he was beaming, his cat ears twitched, and his blue eyes sparkled in the firelight, more vibrant and captivating than ever before, causing the blanket to fly to the side.
She laughed, feeling the honey flowing slowly from her throat to her heart and soul.
Completely absorbed in their fantasy, they lay down wrapped in blankets, grinning, gazing at the white cave ceiling. Adventure, magic, travel, maps…
Nothing else matters anymore; only the journey, only the story, only the imagination.
Because reality is too cold, too cold.
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