Gigi was covered in rose gold for the birthday gala.

A dress designed for dancing, the shiny silk bodice was layered with Prajan lace, a skirt shorter than a normal evening gown with a hemline just a tad under her knee. But its focal point was the single strap draped around the shoulders with a faux flower attached to it; the same material used for the delicate floral petals scattered all over the skirt.

Her hair, styled into whimsical curls and braided halfway for the volume. An ornate hair comb was added for a final touch, letting out a few loose strands to frame her face. Somewhere between casual and formal, she was ready for a summer night party.

Cal looked like a superstar in a champagne suit and a striped navy blue bow tie she had put together for him. Black looked magnificent on him, but a touch of earthy colours freshened his looks, matching his eyes, and she was still downing his beauty as a kiss unexpectedly landed on her cheek.

They had become more open with expressing affection lately.

"Beautiful."

Giggling, she grinned up at him. "I'd love to return that but I wouldn't want to smudge my lipstick on you. You're a superstar, Sire."

"And you are the supernova who created this ensemble. I've never felt so amazing in a suit," he offered her his arm. "Ready to meet my real friends?"

The grand ballroom looked vastly different from how it was on the Prajan-Angletonian banquet. A group of singers and musicians performed on a stage, next to a flock of dancers clad in costumes. Varieties of food and beverages were served on every corner, while guests were seen dancing or chattering together.

There were no announcements for their arrival, as Cal had proposed, there should be no proprieties tonight. They're off to have a good time with friends.

"Cal!" A tall, blond man waved at them. Gigi recognized him from their wedding as Cal's cousin, Philippe Beaufort-DeVauquelin. His father came from a branch of the DeVauquelin family, a cousin to the late Empress Estelle. Whilst his mother was Emperor Callisto's younger sister, Princess Marlene.

As a child, Cal wanted so badly to have a sibling, but his parents were having infertility issues; and then Philippe was born. He'd been acting his pseudo-brother ever since.

"Happy birthday!" Philippe was tall and sturdy—just like Cal was—and while they didn't exactly look like each other, especially with Philippe's striking honey blonde hair; there was something about them that felt oddly similar. Perhaps it was the colour of their eyes.

"Are you here with Aunt and Oncle?"

"They'll be arriving later, you know they don't like having fun," Philippe rolled his eyes playfully, turning to Gigi. "Allo, Gianita! You've become quite a sensation lately.

"It's been tough," she said good-humouredly. "How are you, Philippe?"

"Mind-blown by your dress! Can I see it?"

Taking his hand, Gigi took a turn under his arm in her metallic gown. "Did you know that I also had the honour to dress your cousin tonight?" she gestured over Cal's wardrobe.

"C'est magnifique! See, I told you to wear more colours!" he told Cal. "Three months and you still look like newlyweds. Are we gonna be expecting news anytime soon?"

Gigi blushed. If only if everything he suspected were true.

"You may tease us when you've got a partner of your own," Cal smirked.

"Aie, that bites!" Philippe leaned a little closer to Cal, muttering, "Um, je me demandais juste... is Matteo here?"

"What? Do you think I'm an idiot, why would I invite him here?" Cal replied, giving Philippe some sort of consolation since it made him breathe in relief.

They caught up for a bit before the couple had to move on to greet other guests.

Turned out the hall was studded with stars. There was Oscar Lawellins, a renowned who came with his girlfriend Valentina Lyons, despite the ongoing divorce with their respective spouses. As Angletonia's film industry was vast-growing, the celebrities had gained as much influence as the nobilities with so many spotlights directed at them; and Cal treasured his links to the showbusiness.

There were also friends who came from abroad, namely Adejola, a Prince of N'thanda, a country in the southwestern. A muscular, dark-skinned man with a military buzz cut and strong features. Being fond of travelling, he would often come to Angletonia for leisure. That's how they got to know each other.

Cal and Gigi found him surrounded by a number of women who appeared very fascinated with whatever he was saying.

"After a while, I thought Angletonia was running out of parties. I was about to ask you to join us but you have a new bride now." Adejola laughed as he patted Cal on the back, smiling at Gigi and offering his hand. "—Who's really stunning, by the way. Mrs Cal?"

"It's Gigi, actually. How do you do?"

"Pleasure. Where's Baby Cal?"

"Safe in bed, of course," Cal answered. He couldn't possibly expect Junior to attend an adult party, could he?

In the middle of the party, they all gathered to unwrap the gifts. Most of them either gave really extravagant ones or something related to Cal's favourite pastimes. Gigi got nervous and excited as it came time for him to unwrap hers, which was revealed to be a pair of shiny leather boots and gloves for riding.

It was hard to think of what to give someone who seemed to have everything.

"I just thought you'd like something new to go out riding, Sire."

"Thank you, darling, I love it" Cal leaned to kiss her on the cheek. "Now I just have to put it on my horse."

"Oh, Cal. Don't you get it, it's a code!" Prince Adejola blurted. "The Empress wants to go on a ride tonight, yeah?"

"Oh no!" Gigi was all flustered, waving both of her hands to squash the accusations. But Philippe responded with an 'ooh', followed by an ecstatic cheer from the guests.

Cal smiled timorously, approving his friends' enthusiasm. He grabbed a tiny box from the pile and began untying a ribbon that's holding it closed, to which Philippe exclaimed, "Oh, it's mine!"

It turned out to be a small silver bell, which Cal playfully wiggling it. "I'm not a kitten, Philippe."

"Yes, do it again!" Philippe cheered, and as Cal rang the bell once more, the twin doors to the grand ballroom opened, revealing a number of servants carrying a massive cake with a '28' candle on top of it. There was a small sound of an explosion, and the hall was raining confetti.

At the same time, the band started to play the birthday jingle.

"Joyeux anniversaire! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, happy birthday, joyeux anniversaire..." Phillippe sang along, joined by all of the other guests.

Cal smiled in glee at his birthday cake, making his expression almost childlike.

"Make a wish!" commanded Philippe.

"I'm twenty-eight years old. I shall no longer make wishes." Cal said.

"That's nonsense! Come on, Cal, it's your birthday!" cheered the other guests.

"And you won't officially be turning twenty-eight till the day after tomorrow," Gigi added.

"Alright, alright," he laughed before facing the cake, closing his eyes for the wish making. Gigi wondered if she was included within his wish. Then he finished and blew the candles.

"We shall propose a toast for our dear cousin, friend, and Emperor, who—" Philippe started, before turning over to Gigi. "Oh, pardon. I think Cal's wife should lead the toast." He guffawed and went over to the side.

"Alright." Gigi giggled and grabbed two glasses off the champagne fountain, handing one over to Cal before starting. "Tonight marks the twenty-eighth birthday of my husband, your cousin, friend."

"It's a peach champagne," Olivia cut in from among the guests. "You should not drink peach champagne, Your Majesty, you're allergic."

It took Gigi a split second before she realized that it was directed to Cal. "You are? Why didn't you tell me, Sire?"

Cal shook his head. "I just didn't think it was important."

"So you shouldn't kiss the Empress if she's had some," Olivia sneered. "You know very well it could trigger a reaction, don't you?"

Cal shot her the death stare.

"Thankfully, I haven't," Gigi stepped in, smirking at Olivia. Though she had yet to decipher what she was hinting at, that woman should no longer be able to harass her husband in her presence. "You can still kiss me, Sire."

Philippe fidgeted as the entire hall fell into silence. "Awkward..." He mumbled.

The first piece of the cake was given to Gigi, satiating everyone's expectations. Cal's face was expressionless as he handed a plateful of cake to Olivia.

The party only became livelier as they went deeper into the night, the music grew louder. At least, Cal got his chance to display his immaculate skills on the dance floor. Gigi delightedly followed her husband's lead, loving how her body brushed against his with each step. The entire moment felt like a dream.

Though there were some moments where his movements grew erratic and she was unable to keep up with it. Nevertheless, she was just happy that he was happy; losing it to the rhythm of the drum and saxophone.

"Goodness me!" He heaved as they moved away from the dance floor to get refreshments. "I haven't done anything like that for a while." There was a little sweat on his temple and she brushed it off with her fingertips.

"Sire, you should take some water, you've drunk so much," Gigi was getting worried. "Remember we still have the carnival tomorrow, the fireworks and a dinner on the day after that."

"Don't worry," Cal cackled, gulping down his cocktail. "I have a high alcohol tolerance. I could never get drunk from this amount."

Gigi frowned, getting a little worried, sipping from her own glass.

As Cal went away to mingle with the other guests, she saw Prince Adejola who appeared to be having a serious conversation with Olivia, judging by how close they were to each other. Were they talking about Cal? Whatever happened with the peach champagne? What was she trying to imply?

Olivia's words had a glaring truth to them, and Gigi knew was just deceiving herself to the most obvious. Grabbing a glass off a tray, she downed it in a heartbeat before grabbing another.

"I'm glad Adejola made it here," Philippe told her as he reached her side.

"What do you mean?"

"After what happened eight years ago... I thought they wouldn't be friends anymore, it's good to know that they are still."

"You mean they were fighting before?"

"Not particularly," he shrugged. "It's a little complicated, a misunderstanding."

The rest of the night became a blur. Gigi could remember in haze tripping over her foot only to be caught by her husband, and when she could no longer stand on both feet, he supported her weight and escorted her back into her bedroom.

***

As the sun rose higher in the sky Gigi grumbled into the thing she called her pillow. A sharp pain hit her in the head along with thirst and nausea, so she propped herself on her elbow to reach for water from the nightstand.

That moment, the pillow beneath her shifted.

Blinking her eyes open, she came to realize that she was resting on her husband's chest.

Cal was here, in her bed, both still fully dressed in the clothes they wore for the party. They had slept together in the same bed, but how?

What had she done?

As she struggled to recount the events from last night, Cal stirred, opening his copper brown eyes.

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

*

This is the song that he danced to with Gigi. Since obviously they didn't have EDM yet in the 30s so I imagine they'd dance to an upbeat jazzy song.

Skip to 2:45 to the part where he did a crazy solo dance 😂

Did you like Gigi's birthday gift for her husband? Or should she be giving him something else? :p