"A day that belongs to one person alone?"
Artoria stole a glance at Kaelar, who was busy sorting through his documents. Gathering her courage, she asked, "Kaelar, would you celebrate my birthday?"
To have someone celebrate her birthday, as a day belonging only to her...
She couldn't bring herself to finish the second part of her sentence. Though she was a Celt, Artoria's reserved nature made her even more restrained than the most polite Roman.
Kaelar didn't notice the depth of meaning in Artoria's eyes. The thoughts of a girl her age were elusive. Even if he had noticed, he likely wouldn't have understood her true intentions.
"Of course, Lily," Kaelar answered without hesitation. "Let me host your first birthday party!"
"Lily, do you have any friends you'd like to invite?" he asked with a smile. "It wouldn't be much of a celebration with just the two of us, would it?"
"Just the two of us wouldn't be so bad," Artoria mumbled, though she knew that wasn't realistic. "Invite Sir Ector and Merlin," she suggested. "And if you have other friends, you can ask them too."
"It's a pity, though. Lancelot's lost his nerve and gone back to Avalon to lick his wounds," Kaelar said, shaking his head. "He could've been another guest to wish our dear Lily a happy birthday."
Artoria thought to herself, It doesn't matter who else is there. As long as one person is willing to celebrate my birth, that's enough.
Artoria's birthday fell on December 30th, right after the Celts' Samhain Festival on November 1st—their equivalent of a New Year's celebration.
---
"Morgan, I'm throwing a birthday party for Lily at Maple Ridge. She asked me to invite friends, and you were the first person I thought of."
Pausing for a moment, Kaelar added, "Oh, and if you're coming, bring my sword. You took my decorative sword, and now I'm stuck using a dining knife or a tree branch in fights."
After Artoria left, Kaelar did what he always did—he left a message for Morgan. Ever since she had left, Kaelar would occasionally speak to their severed link. She couldn't hear him anymore, nor would she refuse him with a disdainful remark that she'd never help again. It was a perfect way for him to vent his frustrations.
Artoria had him to talk to, and the people of Maple Ridge, who revered him as the "Saint Kaelar," often shared their burdens and confusions with him. But Kaelar had no one to confide in. In this era, he was utterly alone—no one truly understood him. The path he chose was one he would have to bear alone.
After finishing his message, Kaelar got up to start preparing Artoria's first-ever birthday celebration. He was halfway to the door when a response came from the supposedly severed link.
"Alright."
"???"
Even Kaelar, with his ironclad resolve, was thrown into a stunned silence. For a moment, he couldn't think of what to say.
She could still hear me?!
"Morgan! Hey, Morgan!!!"
Panic surged through Kaelar as he frantically sent dozens of voice messages. "You can hear me? You've been able to hear all this time??? No, wait... Whatever you heard before, it's all lies! I'm telling you, it's all lies, understand?"
"Don't stay silent! Answer me, you wicked woman!"
"Say something! Morgan, pick up!"
"..."
No matter how much Kaelar ranted, Morgan didn't respond. Left fuming, Kaelar could only rage helplessly, vowing that when they met again, she'd get a taste of her own medicine.
Morgan, you sly little snake!
I'll be waiting for you at Maple Ridge! Just you wait...
"..."
Kaelar rubbed his face and steadied his breath, finally pushing thoughts of that wicked woman out of his mind. He turned his focus to planning Artoria's birthday.
"How about a birthday cake?" he mused, scratching his head. "I've never really thrown a birthday party before... Besides, Uther's health has been worsening lately. I doubt many people will show up."
Since the start of the new year, King Uther's health had been steadily declining. It seemed he only had a few months left before his time ran out.
He likely wouldn't live to see Artoria's next birthday.
"Never mind," Kaelar decided. "I'll keep it simple. A regular birthday party should do. A cake, maybe a roasted pig for Artoria—that should be enough."
Kaelar had it all figured out, but there was a problem: Maple Ridge didn't have all the necessary ingredients. The sugar reserves were particularly low, and he'd have to send someone to Rome to buy more.
Though Britain had some sugar crops and honey, the processing techniques of the Celts and Anglo-Saxons were too crude. Only Rome produced the fine white sugar he needed.
But that wasn't a problem for Kaelar. The Anglo-Saxons, known for their seafaring skills, had become excellent maritime traders. Rome was embroiled in constant wars, which left it in need of many essential supplies—so much so that they even bought them from "barbarians."
Kaelar traded Roman weaponry, iron, and magical materials with the Western Roman Empire in exchange for Roman coins and luxury goods. These luxury items then circulated among the British nobility, making Kaelar's coastal domain a hub of commerce. Every trading voyage brought in profit from both sides.
After some thought, Kaelar turned to Artoria and asked, "Lily, how much Roman currency do we have in reserve?"
"We've accumulated over ten thousand coins," Artoria answered thoughtfully. "But the Romans have been tightening restrictions on our trade routes. We're facing more and more pointless inspections, as if they're trying to force us to bribe our way through or find a high-ranking patron."
"Typical Romans," Kaelar chuckled, shaking his head. "It's no wonder the Western Empire is in decline... Well, next time, we can just trade with the Visigoths. Roman coins still have decent purchasing power."
Different regions had their own currencies, but Roman coinage was universally accepted—a bit like modern-day dollars.
"Oh, and find a way to spend all those Roman coins soon," Kaelar advised. "Western Rome doesn't have much time left, and I can't predict exactly when that great Hunnic king will bring down the empire."
It was almost comical. Western Rome had become a "nested" state, with the Visigothic Kingdom encroaching upon its territory and slowly enveloping it. Now, it was the Goths doing most of the fighting against Attila the Hun, while the Romans—proud and aloof—refused to bear arms themselves.