A fairytale of a beautiful maiden, the beloved Frost Flower Princess was supposed to be staying in the comfort of her castle masquerading as a cage to protect her from the dangers outside, imprisoned by her own brothers.
That is, until a mysterious...
* "Leaving each heart unfilled, Facing your vision (Woe to the losers of fortune)"
** Heartslabyul Dorm - Tea Garden
The group soon arrived at Heartslabyul Dorm, with Cater energetically leading the way to the venue for the Unbirthday Party. The gates of the tea garden loomed ahead, and in Ace's hands was a carefully wrapped, elegant little box containing the Mont Blanc tart. He let out a loud yawn, exhaustion still evident from the night before.
Cater twirled dramatically on his heel with a dazzling grin. "It's time for Heartslabyul's Time-Honored Unbirthday Party!" he declared, throwing the garden gates open with a theatrical flair.
The view that greeted them was like something out of a fairytale.
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"Wow..." Y/n breathed, her eyes sparkling as she took it all in—the long tables adorned with delicately arranged teacups and rose-shaped pastries, the flowers in full bloom, and whimsical decorations swaying in the breeze.
Vanitas let out a low whistle, his blue eyes scanning the scene, though they only lingered on the garden for a moment before shifting back to Y/n. A slow smile curved his lips.
"Beautiful," he murmured. "Though not as much as you." He leaned in, his voice lowering. "If you weren't here, mon trésor, I'd be bored to death already."
Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. "Vanitas..."
"Talk about swanky!" Grim exclaimed.
"...Hm?" Ace squinted toward the other tables, his eyes catching a few Heartslabyul students who had familiar red collars fastened tightly around their necks. "Are there a lot of guys in collars or what?"
"It's a looong story," Cater rubbed the back of his neck and gave a sheepish laugh.
Vanitas's smile twitched, his eyes narrowing just slightly at the sight of the collared students. "How fascinating. Such obedience...forced through chains." He leaned closer to Y/n again, his voice velvet-smooth but quietly intense. "Would you prefer a silk ribbon, chérie? Or something more... binding?"
"Do that and I'll be angry." Y/n bluntly answered.
Cater clapped his hands and gestured them forward. "C'mon, c'mon! We've got your table ready—Riddle wanted it near his, for some reason." He led the group across the garden, weaving through decorative archways of roses and pastel streamers.
Vanitas walked slightly behind Y/n, his hand ghosting along the small of her back. He didn't touch—yet—but the air between them felt charged, possessive. Watching her smile and awe at the decorations made something hot and restless coil in his chest.
