Chapter 39

As soon as Dario opened the dining room door, he looked for Fierra. 

He wondered if they’d made up an excuse to lure him there, but fortunately, Fierra was actually present.

As always, she was seated next to Delia during meals at Rufflo mansion.

A fork gripped firmly in her hand held a halved cherry tomato.

It was supposed to be a breakfast for celebrating his birthday.

Apparently, they’d started eating before he arrived, right on schedule, regardless of him.

It was a cold, unsentimental act, but Dario didn’t care about such things.

He ignored the food filling the long table, and the words from his family, and went straight to Fierra.

“Fifi.”

It felt like ages since he’d used that nickname.

Fierra turned her head slightly and met his gaze.

“Hello, Dario. Happy birthday.”

She offered her congratulations warmly.

His mouth, which had been stiff, curved into a pretty crescent.

The irritation that had plagued him for days vanished.

Dario wanted to sit beside Fierra and have a real conversation.

Of course, if he did, he’d get an earful, so he reluctantly refrained.

“When did you come?”

“Not long ago. Maybe twenty minutes?”

“You should’ve told me.”

“I heard you were in the training ground, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.”

As their conversation continued, Duke Rufflo signaled Dario to move along. Dario nodded and found his seat across the table.

He responded politely to his family’s congratulations and picked up his utensils.

While cutting a thick piece of meat, he secretly watched Fierra.

She was elegantly clearing her plate, fighting with her curly hair. Her firm hand tucked stray locks behind her ear, brushing her pale cheek.

When things didn’t go her way, her eyebrows rose, and Dario couldn’t help but chuckle.

He realized his recent irritability was because he hadn’t seen Fierra.

Of course, he thought, that made sense.

Just watching Fierra, he felt he’d never tire of her.

He needed her to be somewhere he could see her.

But since it was a passing thought, Dario let the important clue slip by like a fool.

“You may not know, but it’s meal time. Instead of staring blankly, you should be chewing your food.”

Kayvon scolded.

“I know.”

Dario replied sharply, lowering his head.

It wasn’t for Kayvon’s sake—he just wanted to finish eating so he could talk to Fierra properly.

Maybe it was just today, but the food tasted better than usual.

“Exactly.”

Delia, listening to her sons, muttered tiredly.

After the meal, Dario declined Delia’s suggestion to spend more time together and walked down the corridor holding Fierra’s hand.

“Should I carry it?”

Dario glanced at the gift box in Fierra’s arms.

“No. The gift ceremony hasn’t happened yet, so it’s right for me to carry it.”

Fierra spoke seriously.

Dario suppressed a smile and nodded calmly.

“Alright. Let’s go to my room, then.”

His steps were already headed that way.

“Um, no.”

Fierra stopped abruptly and refused.

“The room feels too personal to just walk into.”

“You used to come in without hesitation. It’s just you, not anyone else.”

Despite his gentle persuasion, Fierra only shook her head.

There was a hint of bitterness, but there were plenty of places besides the bedroom.

Anywhere except the drawing room and garden, where family might barge in, was fine.

“Let’s go to my private study.”

He expected a quick agreement, but Fierra hesitated even more.

After a moment, she seemed to decide and handed him the box.

“Dario, take this.”

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

Dario received a green-wrapped box and a thin letter.

He instinctively felt the letter’s thickness.

It was two pages. Or maybe one folded to feel like two.

“…….”

He felt increasingly petty.

“I was actually just going to drop off the gift and leave, but Madame suggested breakfast, so I stayed longer than planned.”

At Fierra’s words, Dario looked out the window.

The sun was not at its peak, but below it. It was still bright, hardly late.

Even without a formal appointment, they’d always spent late nights together on each other’s birthdays.

Nothing special happened.

During the day, they walked in the garden or read books, and as night came earlier than in summer, they watched the stars and spent quiet time together.

If she hadn’t come, he wouldn’t have known, but since she did, he expected to spend the day together again.

“Do you have other plans?”

Dario asked calmly. Maybe there was something important he didn’t know—something that absolutely couldn’t be missed.

“No, not really. But you must be busy—I didn’t want to keep you until late. And…”

Fierra couldn’t finish her sentence.

“That’s a bit disappointing.”

“Huh?”

Dario’s voice was rougher than before.

His lips curled up, but his blue eyes were calm.

“I know you don’t like me anymore. But does that mean you want to end things as friends, too?”

“No.”

“Really? Then why do I feel like you’re desperate to cut me off?”

He couldn’t believe the reason he was speaking so quietly and sadly was because Fierra wouldn’t spend his birthday with him.

He felt embarrassed enough to make his cheeks sting.

‘Ha, what nonsense am I saying now.’

He felt sweat trickle down again.

While Dario stared, Fierra’s lips dropped, the opposite of his smile, and she spoke.

“If I wanted to cut you off, would I have come with gifts in the morning? If I said we needed distance, why would I come?”

She glanced around to make sure no staff were passing by.

“You’re still my precious friend. I think you’re confused by how different I act now, but that’s because we used to stick together so much.”

Fierra looked him in the eye and spoke clearly.

“This is how friends act, Dario.”

Dario wanted to protest that it felt too awkward, but his lips wouldn’t move.

He instinctively knew she was right.

“When we were kids, it was fine to be together all day, but as adults, that’s not okay.”

Especially between men and women—it’s just the way things are.

Her calm voice was steady.

“And for your future wife’s sake, it’s right to keep a certain distance.”

“What?”

“Think about it. Who would welcome their husband’s childhood friend—especially one who used to have a crush on him—hanging around? Maybe if she was annoying, but otherwise, it’d be unpleasant.”

“Ha, Fierra.”

“Why?”

Her voice was clear and direct.

“You keep mentioning my wife, whom I haven’t met or seen yet, but you don’t need to change your attitude because of that.”

He didn’t like the idea that Fierra was distancing herself for such a reason.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s an area you don’t need to worry about.”

Fierra’s expression turned cold.

Just like when they’d talked about his injury.

She stared at him with hot yet cold eyes, then looked away.

It felt less like she understood him, more like she’d given up on the conversation.

“Fierra.”

For the first time, Dario saw anger toward him in Fierra’s clear eyes and quickly grabbed her wrist.

It was instinctive.

“I think you misunderstood me, I—”

“No, it’s fine. No need to explain.”

Fierra shook off Dario’s hand, coldly.