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...
The Unbirthday party began the day after Y/n woke up, much to the relief of many. Those 24 hours had felt like an eternity, especially for those who wanted to visit, since Isfrid had banned anyone from getting close to Y/n. Even Vanitas wasn't allowed to be near her, his presence deemed too dangerous for her delicate recovery. Isfrid, ever the possessive older brother, had made sure Y/n rested in peace, in the cold, isolated space of the Minka, an environment kept under his magical influence.
With the temperature so low, any normal mortal would have succumbed to frostbite within minutes—so Grim, Vanitas, and anyone else who tried to visit were promptly kicked out. They had been staying with Ace and Deuce, eagerly awaiting the Unbirthday party as their only chance to see her again.
Trumpets rang through the air, signaling the entrance of the newly reformed Housewarden. The students gathered, attention shifting to the entrance of the tea garden. Trey and Cater stood on the sidelines, making way for the newly reformed Housewarden.
"All hail our leader, the Red Sovereign himself...Housewarden Riddle," a student announced.
"We salute you, Housewarden Riddle!" another student cheered, their voices echoing through the garden as Riddle walked in, surveying the scene before him.
"Hm. The garden roses are red, the tableclothes are white..." Riddle hummed, a satisfied smile on his lips as he made his way to his seat. "It's a proper unbirthday indeed. Is there a dormouse asleep in the teapo-" he began, his gaze drifting across the table before shaking his head.
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"Ur, well, I suppose it's fine either way," Riddle says.
"Not everything has to change completely, you know," Trey chuckled, stepping over to Riddle. "Like, maybe spread the jam on your scones, instead of on the dormouse this time? Let's try to set the bar at 'it's great if it's this way,' not 'it absolutely has to be this way.' That's a good enough goal for now," he explained, spreading the jam on a scone before placing the plate down in front of Riddle.
"Yes, that makes sense," Riddle nodded with a gentle smile.
*Sigh* I can't believe we got roped into cleaning up and prepping the garden again," Ace complained.
"Well, at least Housewarden recovered from his overblot without any complications," Deuce added, having a slight smile as he looked at Y/n who sat with Isfrid and Vanitas.
She licked the frosting off her cheek with a lazy flick of her dragon tongue, and Vanitas, standing nearby, visibly tensed, his gloved fingers curling at the memory of how that same tongue had traced his skin after she drank his blood the moment she woke. He had tried to be patient. He had. But seeing her with frosting on her lips, that tongue, that dress—Heartslabyul red and white hugging every inch of her—while Isfrid hovered so close, was pushing the limits of his restraint.
