Happy Birthday, Eins

'Happy birthday, Prince!'

Eins flinched, although he wasn't entirely certain whether it was at hearing the word 'happy' or 'birthday' — or both of them combined together, heaven forbid.

He turned around to come face to face with Count Rosenberg, who was smiling in a way that almost made Eins want to punch him, so he could find out if it was physically possible to displace that infuriating grin.

'Ernst, wipe that look off your face at once — '

Eins stopped and looked down.

'What… is that?'

For Rosenberg was holding a bouquet of white roses wrapped with black-and-gold paper. He tipped his head to the side, still smiling. 'The usual complimentary flowers, as befits the occasion. Why, it's your birthday, is it not?'

Eins' mind blanked, then he recalled that it was the third of January. 'It was my birthday two days ago.'

Ernst finally let up a little on the smiling and gave him an unimpressed look. 'Well, forgive me for not freighting them to you while you were away on business in the Kingdom of Kataro, but I wanted to give them to you personally and their import taxes are horrendous.'

And he pushed the bouquet into Eins' arms.

Immediately, Eins pushed it back. 'Flowers? This is ridiculous!'

Ernst laughed and stepped out of the way, leaving Eins with his hands full of flowers and paper. 'But white roses are your favourite, and have been ever since we were children, no? Whenever I managed to misplace you, I could always find you beneath the rose arbour, guaranteed.'

'Exactly. When we were children.'

'For goodness' sake, can you just take them?'

Eins hissed, one moment away from throwing the flowers in Rosenberg's face. 'Enough of this. And it will get all over my uniform.'

'It's already travel-stained enough as it is. Good grief. I got you a gift out of the kindness of my heart. You should be touched — '

'I'm a touch irritated.'

'Come on, can't you — '

'I don't want them, and your concern is needless!' Eins snapped, and slapped the bouquet back into Ernst's hands.

Rosenberg froze. And looked down, with his jaw clenched. His ruby eyes were hidden beneath lowered lashes that shadowed a far-too-pale complexion. He was completely stiff. As though if you touched him, he'd shatter into brittle shards like toffee candy. 'Forgive me, my lord.' His syllables were sharp and clipped. 'I did not mean to put you in an ill humour. I beg your pardon.'

Eins stopped. And realised that he'd hurt him.

It was nearly impossible to hurt Ernst in any way; he was so resilient, so used to enduring Eins' sharp tongue day-in and day-out. He was meant to be able to take it. To put up with Eins and his ill temper.

Eins couldn't help but remember the time when he did the same thing, but to his brothers. They even gave him the same gift — a bouquet of flowers. And he told them to shove their concern and the gift they wanted to give him.

Why do I always have to say these things?

'…Ernst.'

After a moment, Rosenberg's eyes flicked up.

'I'm…' Eins ran a hand through his hair, and gritted his teeth. 'I… was… unreasonable.'

Rosenberg blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'I — ' He stopped. '…I was being unreasonable.'

Rosenberg's lips quirked in a wary smile. 'An apology from you? That's something you don't see every day.' He thawed in a moment, and laughed. 'Quick, someone take a photograph before it disappears.'

'Ernst, I — ' Eins stopped, and bit back his temper. He reached out a hand. And closed his fingers on the edge of the wrapping paper around the bouquet. '…I'll take them. I'm sorry,' he added, in the barest whisper. His pride practically choked him to death, but he survived nonetheless.

Ernst smirked and tossed the bouquet into Eins' hands, forcing him to fumble for it, then walked off with a wave. 'As you wish, my lord. Many happy returns.'

'…Idiot.' And Eins walked in the opposite direction, tossing an irritated glance over his shoulder.

He stopped in the middle of the hall.

All the vases in the palace were filled with white roses.

The fragrance filled the air, and memories filled his head.

Eins! I found you!

…I noticed.

You have a thing for roses, don't you? These white ones are nice. Let me guess, your favourite is black roses, like you're hair.

...But there isn't any such thing as black roses.

What? Well, there should be. Like the two of us: black and white, like chess pieces!

Heh…

And Eins could still feel the ghosting touch of Ernst's hand on his shoulder. Of their childhood memories, not as long gone as he thought they were.

He glanced down, and drew a card from the depths of the bouquet. He unfolded it.

Dear Prince, I mean, Eins,

Apparently you're meant to be able to write something witty on birthday cards once you're an adult, but to pieces with that, because nothing's coming to mind. Well, another year, I guess. Make the most of it. You're stronger than you feel, kinder than you realise, and older, I mean younger than you look…

Eins did a double-take and reread the last line.

He whirled around and yelled, 'ERNST!' but his friend had already made a sprint for safety and the doors at the end of the hall slammed shut.

'…Curse him.'

Eins glanced at the card again.

Many happy returns, Prince. And many more for the years to come. …And here's hoping these years are easier on your looks than the ones before them.

Best Wishes —

'ERNST!'

The End