June the twentieth was Cal's birthday. As Gigi offered to cover the arrangements for him, he told her he'd like to be hands-on. Still, he'd appreciate any help he could get, for the celebrations would be held in not less than three days. For the dates to coincide with the summer break had made more people become available and eager to attend.

When asked if he'd always thrown such massive commemoration for his birthday every year, Cal laughed, saying that the last time he had ever held a huge celebration was on his twentieth birthday, eight years ago.

Turns out, he wasn't joking about throwing a different kind of party. On the first night, he would be hosting an overnight party, filled with drinking, dancing and merrymaking. The second day would follow with a carnival, in which they'd enjoy attractions, games and fireworks at daybreak, marking his actual birthday.

Finally, on the third day, they would have the usual tedious dinner with senior members of the nobility; both of them could yawn already.

It's customary for the imperial family to release a photograph on the Emperor's birthday; a family portrait. This year, it would be the first time that they took a portrait together with Gigi as family. Even taking the portraits had its own customs, only the Empress was allowed to dress in the Leroys' signature shade of green. All male members in the imperial family were required to wear black. Female members must also wear black if they were married; lilac, if they're unmarried.

Peppy for the photoshoot, Gigi asked the maids to bring her a collection of the previous family portraits, so she could get an idea of how to pose for it. There were only three of those photographs that she'd seen at the gallery. The first was the most recent photo from last year with only Cal and Junior in the picture, the second was a shot of her husband's coronation day.

Among the pages of the album, one photograph captured her attention in particular, taken on the late Emperor Callisto's fifty-seventh birthday. Junior wasn't in the picture, so he wasn't born yet. Something in the photo felt off, as Cal stood at the edge of the picture in such an odd way, he was almost out of frame. The image composition was weird too, there was too much empty space on the opposite putting Cal and his parents off-centre.

Narrowing her eyes, Gigi noticed a trace of a person standing beside Cal, clad in black. But before she could observe further, she was escorted into a mini studio where a photographer had been expecting them.

***

As the demand for tropical food peaked during summer, Gigi prompted Cal to have Prajan food served on their table, and maybe, even on his birthday carnival. He approved, having been impressed by the ice tea. Having invited one of Praja's palace chefs, she made him serve Nasi Goreng, a distinguished version of fried rice for their breakfast this morning.

Cal looked down on a plateful of fried rice, topped with slices of chicken, pickles and a sunny side up. "But isn't this a bit heavy in the morning?"

"No, in fact in Praja we eat it for breakfast, and if you don't eat rice, it doesn't count. It's another one of 'people's dish', you should try it."

"Wok rice?"

"It's fried rice, Papa, fried rice!" Junior groaned, uncharacteristically aggressive toward his father.

"And these are chips?" Cal picked up a crispy golden cracker from a container.

"They're prawn crackers, Sire, we eat it as a snack or a companion to main courses."

"It's krupuk, Papa," said Cal Junior. "Krupuk."

"Kooroo—what?"

"Krupuk!" Junior arched his body towards his father, exerting all his strength.

"Ah. Crackers," ended Senior, giving up on pronouncing it correctly. "I think they're really good."

But Junior couldn't let it go. "It is too easy, why can't you say krupuk?" he shrieked. "Papa ini lemot!"

"Junior!" Gigi scolded immediately as he gave her a stubborn pout. "Apologize to your father!"

Senior was entirely clueless. "Gigi, what was he saying?"

Junior threw his father a disdainful glare before hopping down his chair and ran off.

Gigi rubbed the back of her neck with guilt, assuming that she'd partially caused it for having taught him the Prajan language. "My apologies, Sire. He said you are... slow."

"Don't you worry about that, it's just Junior being Junior." Her husband shrugged, resuming feasting on his breakfast. "He'll come around."

Did Cal ever make Junior make amends for his mistakes, or apologize for anything? If this kept going on, all those pampering wouldn't be good for him as a future ruler.

"Allow me to talk to him," Gigi said as she excused herself to follow Junior.

The boy was found hiding behind a curtain.

"Would you explain to me what was going on back there?" Gigi threw a disapproving look at Junior, arms crossed over her chest. "I didn't teach you languages so that you'd use against your father. Repeat it and I will no longer teach you anything, ever!"

Junior curled up into a ball, hugging his legs to himself.

"Cal Velius Leroy!"

"...Papa won't let me attend his overnight party." Junior's voice faltered, his facial muscles struggled to suppress a sob.

"He won't? Why not?"

"He said it's for grown-ups only. I'm tired of everyone treating me like I'm a child!" he seethed with fury.

So that's what pulled the trigger! Kneeling before Junior, Gigi tried her best to ignore the hilarity of the situation. "Junior, I'm sure that your father never meant to keep you out, he only wants to protect you."

"What do I need protection from?" Clearly Junior was a clever child, so outsmarting him would be tricky. It needed to involve something that he believed in.

"Mak Lampir, remember her? I heard she's coming to the party," told Gigi.

Mak Lampir was a mythical evil hag that used to live in Prajan mountains. She was once a beautiful young woman, but since she had lost her love, she grew old evil. She had long white hair and was always seen carrying along a wooden sceptre decorated with skulls.

Junior raised both of his tiny hands over his mouth. "No, why would he invite Mak Lampir?" Then he turned to Gigi once more, squinting. "But you're not lying to me, right?"

"Of course not, why would I be lying to you?" she lied, figuring that it'll be easier for her to just deal with it later and have Junior make up with his father now. "She's uninvited, but she planned to kidnap young princes, your father's just keeping you for safety."

"But then if there's no Mak Lampir I can still attend the party?"

"Of course," Gigi said, cussing inside.

With that, she finally coaxed Junior to rejoin his father in the dining room.

"Sire, Junior has something to say to you," Gigi nudged the boy toward his father. "Come on, say it. Papa..."

"Papa, I am so sorry..." he looked down bashfully.

"For what?" Gigi asked.

"For calling him a bad word," he looked up at her.

"Don't look at me, your father's over there."

Junior's cheeks turned redder as he looked up to his father, who was smiling at him warmly.

"And, you promise that..."

"I promise that I will never use bad words on you again, be it in any language. I also think that... Papa keren."

"He says you're awesome." Gigi translated for him, and her husband raised his thumbs in the air.

Settling back in her chair, Gigi was about to grab some crackers for herself only to find the container empty. "Sire... did you?" she looked at her husband who was stuffing the last piece of crackers into his mouth.

"What? They taste good."

Seeing it, Junior scrunching up his little nose and began to whine.

"Oh, don't worry, Junior, there's plenty in the kitchen," assured Gigi, asking a maid to bring more crackers. The boy calmed down but kept pouting at his father.

Boys, they just made up like a minute ago.

***

As the day of the long-awaited party finally came, Gigi was anxious to convince Junior against attending the party. How was she supposed to show him Mak Lampir? She didn't even exist!

Should she ask one of her ladies to dress up as Mak Lampir? But none of them had white hair and she didn't have a wig.

But as the three of them were looking down at the guests from the second floor, Olivia was seen entering the grand hall.

"Oh goodness, that's Mak Lampir!" Junior screeched, pointing at Olivia's platinum blonde head and scampered all the way back to his room.

Cal looked at the scene, flabbergasted. "Do I want to know...?"

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

(This is Mak Lampir)