If there was one celebration Zenith definitely loved, it was the winter festival. The colorful bursts of magic and the orchestras playing through the night created unforgettable experiences. But the best part about it was all the different types of foods available. She could practically smell the blending aromas of cinnamon pastries and mulled wine.
It was a thrilling, bittersweet bliss that always left her longing for the tastes she hadn't been able to try. That was always the toughest part. Feeling stuffed to the gills, only to learn there were secret stalls you didn’t visit.
So, that’s how she garnered her little partners in crime. Each year, she chaperoned all the children from the capital’s orphanage, and shared the magic of festival food with them—and they loved her for it. Seeing their faces light up after every morsel reminded her why she is so passionate about food. It quickly became a tradition for Zenith to follow indulgently as the children raced from booth to booth, making the festivals even more special for her. Now, she wanted Calmo to have these experiences.
She leaned an elbow on the table, chin propped up as she gazed absently out the window. Everything was starting to take shape. In the village square below, folding chairs, planks, and paper lanterns were gathered to prepare for the event. And across the table her handmaidens worked on their respective tasks. Or at least, Angelian was.
She had been confirming reservations all morning to ensure the number of attendees was accurate to help finalize event preparations.
Portia, however, had been more bull-like than usual, elbowing Zenith with a teasing smirk about ‘weaving a lover’s tale’ into her hair for Kaito, chuckling ‘Braids whisper heart’s secrets.’
It was an ages old elf custom for close friends to braid intentions into each other's hair during significant moments in life. And Zenith's handmaidens certainly considered the growing bond between their mistress and the hero as significant indeed, if their barely contained giggles were any indication.
Zenith ultimately yielded. Then, Angelina decided that braiding Zenith’s hair was more important than verifying reservations and joined in.
The mayor winced as Portia gave another firm tug. Her handmaiden wove strands with nimble fingers, whispering and giggling with Angelina. No doubt embedding some absurd romance story to tease her with later. While her mother had schooled her thoroughly in elf customs, Zenith had scarcely abided by rituals like ceremonial hair braiding. Yet, she wouldn't mind upholding this particular one, she mused, for Kaito’s sake.
They wove in strands symbolizing affection, connection, joy.
At last Portia leaned back, critically examining her work before breaking into a grin. “A vision fit for the finest bride, my lady! Why, I imagine even our dear tax accountant Kaito will be stunned to silence at the sight.”
Heat crept into Zenith's cheeks even as she scoffed. Just then, the door swung open. Speak of the devil—there he was, holding the festival’s budget ledger in one hand and an abacus on the other.
Zenith straightened self-consciously. What sort of ridiculous sculpture had her handmaidens crafted upon her head? She longed to tear loose the strands and let her hair fly free as it ought.
But Kaito's expression gave her pause. His eyebrows raised a fraction as he stepped closer. Then he reached out to delicately pinch a loose strand of hair. He gently tucked it behind her ear, fingertips just barely grazing her skin.
“It's beautiful as it is,” he murmured simply.
Zenith's breath caught at the unexpected contact, the low timbre of his voice. But in another moment he withdrew with a polite smile.
“Very well, I shall finish looking over the accounting ledgers. Then likely take a turn about the square to check on Jogid's progress.”
He inclined his head respectfully to the room and took his leave.
Zenith sat frozen, pressed fingers to where his touch had lingered as an odd squeeze pinched her chest.
Did he truly not grasp her handmaidens’s intentions? Probably not. That couldn’t be, Kaito seemed to know everything. Did he see it as meaningless frippery compared to the logical confines of his ledgers and forms?
Despite her misgivings, there was still much to do before the festival. Zenith made her way towards Kaito’s office to see if he needed help with anything. But, when she swept open the door, her mouth open to call his name, she stopped short at the bizarre sight.
“Kaito? what in the name of the Writ are you doing?” Zenith asked slowly.
Kaito was horizontal in midair, one hand planted on the floor while his legs dangled above. His other hand jabbed rapidly at an abacus floating several feet off the ground.
“Hm? Oh, sorry Zee. I discovered this position optimizes circulation to the calculating portions of the brain," Kaito explained matter-of-factly.
He tilted his head to peer at her upside-down.
“Ah, I see…how’s the issue with the festival budget?” Zenith asked, trying to mask her momentary amusement.
“No issue. Thanks to Jogid’s coupon scheme, the Eastscar villagers have covered over half the catering costs already.”
He pushed off the floor neatly, landing upright in one fluid motion and adjusting his black robes. It was such a graceful, absurd motion that Zenith nearly forgot her lingering unease in her surprise.
Nearly. She crossed her arms and looked to the side—he had that politely inquisitive look on his face.
“Well...that is good to hear," she managed finally. "Let us hope the festival does your optimistic budget justice then.”
Zenith turned her head, allowing her braids to spill conspicuously over her shoulder where Kaito could admire them.
“Thank you Zee. I’m off to see Jogid’s progress outside.”
Just like that, he left a small kiss on her cheek and walked off."
Outside? Did Kaito ignore her braids again?
Zenith ambled back to her office and settled in front of the window overlooking the town square. Portia and Angelina had gone off to work on something else, leaving her alone with her thoughts in the empty office.
She sighed, propping her chin on one hand. Certainly the man was devoted to logic and efficiency first and foremost. But for all his peculiarities, Kaito had never struck her as insensitive or dismissive of others' values—
Zenith's spiraling thoughts halted as Kaito came into her vision below, somehow having gathered a gaggle of children about him. He gestured animatedly, miming something that had the children giggling as they scampered to gather fallen leaves and flowers. Even some parents plodded over with strings of ribbons and started tying them ‘round the trees in loopedy, swirly patterns. All while Kaito kept on dancing like a fool making the kids holler with laughter.
Then the adults were drawn into the game, all of them swaying and dancing together, weaving between the ribboned trees.
Moments later, two little girls joined Kaito arranging stones in spiraling mosaics across the square.
Zenith couldn’t help a very unladylike snort. The ridiculously charming sight brought back the nostalgia of herself sharing meals with the kids from the capital’s orphanage.
She grinned like a fool herself watching it all, propping on the windowsill. Perhaps she was being unfair. The intricacies of elven social customs likely never cropped up managing village ledgers and taxes. She simply needed to enlighten him graciously. Yes, have an open discussion about the deeper meaning behind certain traditions—then hopefully they would come to a greater mutual understanding.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Zenith wondered between the ribbons dangling from trees—they weren’t just odd. They were oddly familiar. The way they looped and wove between trunks and over branches, it reminded her of…braids.
Her heart stopped, and she pivoted slowly, taking in the scope of Kaito's design. He had crafted a large-scale recreation of traditional elven braiding motifs across the entire square.
“Holy demon king’s—”
A petite figure bounded up to her.
One of the little girls from earlier
Clutched in the child's small hands was a slender braid, crafted from stems and leaves. “For you, Mayor Zenith! Mister Kaito taught us how to make them,” she explained eagerly, holding up her creation. “See, this one looks just like your hair now!”
And she had to admit, they kind of looked like the braids on her head. They were identical. Especially the floral pattern at the back of her head, with circular, petal-like layers forming a rosette.
Crisscrossing smaller plaits framed her face and led up to the larger braid, almost resembling vine tendrils. The alternating tight and loose weaves created a rippling, cascading effect down her back.
“Thank you. You’re very king,” Zenith said, and she added the girl’s creation to her hair.
A laugh carried over the square—deep yet gentle. Zenith picked her way through the townsfolk to find Kaito and her handmaidens sitting amidst the group of children once more.
Zenith’s mind conjured an image of her mother demonstrating a basic braiding technique. She glistened and shook her head, focusing on Kaito holding several slender branches, nimbly weaving and twisting them.
Spotting her approach, Kaito brushed off his hands and inclined his head. “Hello Zee, perhaps you can bestow some wisdom upon these eager minds next."
Kaito’s eyes crinkled good-naturedly as she sat, taking the proffered branches.
He deftly wove one last crown of branches and flowers, then placed it atop Zenith's head.
Angelina watched with delight. “This was a great idea, Master Kaito! You were right, the children are loving these kinds of activities.”
Kaito nodded. “I thought it would be important for the people of Calmo to appreciate the beauties of other cultures. It’s interesting, and I’m learning a lot myself. Plus, it’s fun. However, I would never be as versed as Mayor Zenith.”
Portia laughed, and handed a ribbon to one of the kids. “You’d be surprised.”
“And there’s no shame in that,” Kaito said, as he demonstrated how to interlock the pliable branches. “If that’s the case, we’ll all learn together.
Angelina giggled, “Don’t listen to her,” she said playfully, “The late queen taught everything about elven customs to her.”
“Okay, enough of that,” Zenith grunted with an audible sigh. “I think you two have made too big a deal out of this braiding thing already.”
As the children put all their attention on their weaving, Portia leaned over, eyes glinting. “You know, it was Kaito’s idea for us to honor the old braiding traditions for you.”
Zenith paused mid-twist, casting a sidelong glance at her handmaiden. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Why yes!” Angelina cut in, clasping her hands eagerly. “He came and asked if we might weave good fortune and...oh, how did he put it dear?” She touched a finger to her chin pensively before her face brightened. “Bonds of the heart! Into your hair ahead of the festival preparations.”
So, Kaito understands more than I realized... “Bonds of the heart, reaaally,” she said, giving Kaito a look.
Glancing back, Kaito rubbed his neck self-consciously before replying. “I wished for you to feel supported…by those who care for you.”
Her jaw dropped, and pink bloomed across her cheeks.
“See! Finest bride!” Portia chortled.
If there was one celebration Zenith definitely loved, it was the winter festival. The colorful bursts of magic and the orchestras playing through the night created unforgettable experiences. But the best part about it was all the different types of foods available. She could practically smell the blending aromas of cinnamon pastries and mulled wine.
It was a thrilling, bittersweet bliss that always left her longing for the tastes she hadn't been able to try. That was always the toughest part. Feeling stuffed to the gills, only to learn there were secret stalls you didn’t visit.
So, that’s how she garnered her little partners in crime. Each year, she chaperoned all the children from the capital’s orphanage, and shared the magic of festival food with them—and they loved her for it. Seeing their faces light up after every morsel reminded her why she is so passionate about food. It quickly became a tradition for Zenith to follow indulgently as the children raced from booth to booth, making the festivals even more special for her. Now, she wanted Calmo to have these experiences.
She leaned an elbow on the table, chin propped up as she gazed absently out the window. Everything was starting to take shape. In the village square below, folding chairs, planks, and paper lanterns were gathered to prepare for the event. And across the table her handmaidens worked on their respective tasks. Or at least, Angelian was.
She had been confirming reservations all morning to ensure the number of attendees was accurate to help finalize event preparations.
Portia, however, had been more bull-like than usual, elbowing Zenith with a teasing smirk about ‘weaving a lover’s tale’ into her hair for Kaito, chuckling ‘Braids whisper heart’s secrets.’
It was an ages old elf custom for close friends to braid intentions into each other's hair during significant moments in life. And Zenith's handmaidens certainly considered the growing bond between their mistress and the hero as significant indeed, if their barely contained giggles were any indication.
Zenith ultimately yielded. Then, Angelina decided that braiding Zenith’s hair was more important than verifying reservations and joined in.
The mayor winced as Portia gave another firm tug. Her handmaiden wove strands with nimble fingers, whispering and giggling with Angelina. No doubt embedding some absurd romance story to tease her with later. While her mother had schooled her thoroughly in elf customs, Zenith had scarcely abided by rituals like ceremonial hair braiding. Yet, she wouldn't mind upholding this particular one, she mused, for Kaito’s sake.
They wove in strands symbolizing affection, connection, joy.
At last Portia leaned back, critically examining her work before breaking into a grin. “A vision fit for the finest bride, my lady! Why, I imagine even our dear tax accountant Kaito will be stunned to silence at the sight.”
Heat crept into Zenith's cheeks even as she scoffed. Just then, the door swung open. Speak of the devil—there he was, holding the festival’s budget ledger in one hand and an abacus on the other.
Zenith straightened self-consciously. What sort of ridiculous sculpture had her handmaidens crafted upon her head? She longed to tear loose the strands and let her hair fly free as it ought.
But Kaito's expression gave her pause. His eyebrows raised a fraction as he stepped closer. Then he reached out to delicately pinch a loose strand of hair. He gently tucked it behind her ear, fingertips just barely grazing her skin.
“It's beautiful as it is,” he murmured simply.
Zenith's breath caught at the unexpected contact, the low timbre of his voice. But in another moment he withdrew with a polite smile.
“Very well, I shall finish looking over the accounting ledgers. Then likely take a turn about the square to check on Jogid's progress.”
He inclined his head respectfully to the room and took his leave.
Zenith sat frozen, pressed fingers to where his touch had lingered as an odd squeeze pinched her chest.
Did he truly not grasp her handmaidens’s intentions? Probably not. That couldn’t be, Kaito seemed to know everything. Did he see it as meaningless frippery compared to the logical confines of his ledgers and forms?
Despite her misgivings, there was still much to do before the festival. Zenith made her way towards Kaito’s office to see if he needed help with anything. But, when she swept open the door, her mouth open to call his name, she stopped short at the bizarre sight.
“Kaito? what in the name of the Writ are you doing?” Zenith asked slowly.
Kaito was horizontal in midair, one hand planted on the floor while his legs dangled above. His other hand jabbed rapidly at an abacus floating several feet off the ground.
“Hm? Oh, sorry Zee. I discovered this position optimizes circulation to the calculating portions of the brain," Kaito explained matter-of-factly.
He tilted his head to peer at her upside-down.
“Ah, I see…how’s the issue with the festival budget?” Zenith asked, trying to mask her momentary amusement.
“No issue. Thanks to Jogid’s coupon scheme, the Eastscar villagers have covered over half the catering costs already.”
He pushed off the floor neatly, landing upright in one fluid motion and adjusting his black robes. It was such a graceful, absurd motion that Zenith nearly forgot her lingering unease in her surprise.
Nearly. She crossed her arms and looked to the side—he had that politely inquisitive look on his face.
“Well...that is good to hear," she managed finally. "Let us hope the festival does your optimistic budget justice then.”
Zenith turned her head, allowing her braids to spill conspicuously over her shoulder where Kaito could admire them.
“Thank you Zee. I’m off to see Jogid’s progress outside.”
Just like that, he left a small kiss on her cheek and walked off."
Outside? Did Kaito ignore her braids again?
Zenith ambled back to her office and settled in front of the window overlooking the town square. Portia and Angelina had gone off to work on something else, leaving her alone with her thoughts in the empty office.
She sighed, propping her chin on one hand. Certainly the man was devoted to logic and efficiency first and foremost. But for all his peculiarities, Kaito had never struck her as insensitive or dismissive of others' values—
Zenith's spiraling thoughts halted as Kaito came into her vision below, somehow having gathered a gaggle of children about him. He gestured animatedly, miming something that had the children giggling as they scampered to gather fallen leaves and flowers. Even some parents plodded over with strings of ribbons and started tying them ‘round the trees in loopedy, swirly patterns. All while Kaito kept on dancing like a fool making the kids holler with laughter.
Then the adults were drawn into the game, all of them swaying and dancing together, weaving between the ribboned trees.
Moments later, two little girls joined Kaito arranging stones in spiraling mosaics across the square.
Zenith couldn’t help a very unladylike snort. The ridiculously charming sight brought back the nostalgia of herself sharing meals with the kids from the capital’s orphanage.
She grinned like a fool herself watching it all, propping on the windowsill. Perhaps she was being unfair. The intricacies of elven social customs likely never cropped up managing village ledgers and taxes. She simply needed to enlighten him graciously. Yes, have an open discussion about the deeper meaning behind certain traditions—then hopefully they would come to a greater mutual understanding.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Zenith wondered between the ribbons dangling from trees—they weren’t just odd. They were oddly familiar. The way they looped and wove between trunks and over branches, it reminded her of…braids.
Her heart stopped, and she pivoted slowly, taking in the scope of Kaito's design. He had crafted a large-scale recreation of traditional elven braiding motifs across the entire square.
“Holy demon king’s—”
A petite figure bounded up to her.
One of the little girls from earlier
Clutched in the child's small hands was a slender braid, crafted from stems and leaves. “For you, Mayor Zenith! Mister Kaito taught us how to make them,” she explained eagerly, holding up her creation. “See, this one looks just like your hair now!”
And she had to admit, they kind of looked like the braids on her head. They were identical. Especially the floral pattern at the back of her head, with circular, petal-like layers forming a rosette.
Crisscrossing smaller plaits framed her face and led up to the larger braid, almost resembling vine tendrils. The alternating tight and loose weaves created a rippling, cascading effect down her back.
“Thank you. You’re very king,” Zenith said, and she added the girl’s creation to her hair.
A laugh carried over the square—deep yet gentle. Zenith picked her way through the townsfolk to find Kaito and her handmaidens sitting amidst the group of children once more.
Zenith’s mind conjured an image of her mother demonstrating a basic braiding technique. She glistened and shook her head, focusing on Kaito holding several slender branches, nimbly weaving and twisting them.
Spotting her approach, Kaito brushed off his hands and inclined his head. “Hello Zee, perhaps you can bestow some wisdom upon these eager minds next."
Kaito’s eyes crinkled good-naturedly as she sat, taking the proffered branches.
He deftly wove one last crown of branches and flowers, then placed it atop Zenith's head.
Angelina watched with delight. “This was a great idea, Master Kaito! You were right, the children are loving these kinds of activities.”
Kaito nodded. “I thought it would be important for the people of Calmo to appreciate the beauties of other cultures. It’s interesting, and I’m learning a lot myself. Plus, it’s fun. However, I would never be as versed as Mayor Zenith.”
Portia laughed, and handed a ribbon to one of the kids. “You’d be surprised.”
“And there’s no shame in that,” Kaito said, as he demonstrated how to interlock the pliable branches. “If that’s the case, we’ll all learn together.
Angelina giggled, “Don’t listen to her,” she said playfully, “The late queen taught everything about elven customs to her.”
“Okay, enough of that,” Zenith grunted with an audible sigh. “I think you two have made too big a deal out of this braiding thing already.”
As the children put all their attention on their weaving, Portia leaned over, eyes glinting. “You know, it was Kaito’s idea for us to honor the old braiding traditions for you.”
Zenith paused mid-twist, casting a sidelong glance at her handmaiden. “Oh? Do tell.”
“Why yes!” Angelina cut in, clasping her hands eagerly. “He came and asked if we might weave good fortune and...oh, how did he put it dear?” She touched a finger to her chin pensively before her face brightened. “Bonds of the heart! Into your hair ahead of the festival preparations.”
So, Kaito understands more than I realized... “Bonds of the heart, reaaally,” she said, giving Kaito a look.
Glancing back, Kaito rubbed his neck self-consciously before replying. “I wished for you to feel supported…by those who care for you.”
Her jaw dropped, and pink bloomed across her cheeks.
“See! Finest bride!” Portia chortled.
