A Birthday for Gertrude

Wren is very impressed by the floating rock glowing like the sun.

"My friend… I know it’s early in the party, but you have already won the award for Best Costume!"

Wren pins a "gold medal" onto the cardboard sun.

Alex props her head against his hip, grinning as the Moon Prince struggles to figure out what’s happening. "Relax, your Highness. No need to look so lost—it’s a birthday party. For Gertrude. You know, cake, presents, all that good stuff."

He tosses her keys in the air and catches them with ease. "Me? I’m heading out to grab my gift. I’ll be back before you can say ‘surprise,’ and trust me, it’ll be worth the wait." Alex strides toward the door, pausing to glance back at Mel and the cerberus puppy. "Keep the excitement alive, Mel. The party needs your kind of energy."

Yola watches the Moon Prince with a knowing chuckle, her branches rustling as she rises from her seat. "Ah, my dear Moon Prince, you’re not alone in your confusion. Parties have their own rhythm, and you just need to sway to it." She stretches her limbs, shaking off some stray leaves.

"I think I’ll have a word with Lady Sherry about some floral touches. She always knows how to make a room feel special. And if I happen to find a Cuban cigar to celebrate with, well, who could blame me?" Yola begins shuffling toward the back porch, humming a jaunty tune.

As she passes the Moon Prince, she pats him on the arm with a gnarled branch and winks. "Don’t overthink it, darling. Just pick something for the girl that makes you smile. She’ll love it because it’s from you."

Gertrude hears the roar of a motorcycle. She peers out the window to see Alex Dullaghan roaring away. Didn't he just get here? Where is she off to?

She begins to wander through the B&B, trying to figure out what's going on. She makes her way into the kitchen, where she sees Robin mixing up batter for what looks like will be a very large cake. Hmm..

"Hey there, Robin. What'cha working on there? Is there some sort of... special occasion happening?" she asks slyly, trying to pump the huge elemental for information.

As the others busy themselves, Monday starts preparing their gift for Gertrude. First, they unroll a sheaf of pristine parchment from their pack and place it on the ground. They produce a gleaming pen made from the feather of a golden goose and begin to inscribe an incantation upon it. Once it is done, they carefully roll the parchment up and push it forward in front of them, causing it to vanish into thin air!

The fairy then waits. And waits... And waits...

Monday sighs. This is taking longer than usual. They look for something to occupy their time. And that's when they spot the Moon Prince, apparently out of his depth. Monday smiles as they sidle up beside the lunar scion. "If you really can't think of something to get our dear, sweet Gertrude, I can acquire a gift on your behalf. I'll make sure it's precisely the sort of thing the young girl will enjoy. And all I simply ask for in return is the knowledge of your name. Your true name. Surely, 'the Moon Prince' is but a moniker. What is it you are really called? I simply must know!"

Mel snaps out of her reverie at Alex's words. She realizes she know what to get Gertrude for a present... but doesn't have the present. Luckily Monday sells sundries in the gift shop of the B&B. Mel quickly gets up, gives Dog, Dog, N'Dog one last scratch on the back and bounds off to the gift shop.As Mel looks around the gift shop, she sees a paltry selection of jewelry. And of course it is all silver! A low growl builds in Mel's throat as she continues looking around the gift shop. Finally, she can't control herself anymore and snaps at Monday "This has to be the worst gift shop I have ever seen! Who is going to buy a t-shirt with a picture of Yazeba pointing to the right saying I'm with stupid. I mean really. Where are the gifts with class?! Grrrr. I am never going to find Gertrude's gift swamped by all this garbage! Don't you have any gold jewelry?!" Mel gnashes her jaws, her sharp pointed teeth glinting in the fluorescent shop lighting.

The Ptisilith stops changing color and now shifts to match the blue sky color of a sunny day. As it does, it drifts closer to Wren. At first, the color does not change but the large stone floats closer. And closer. Then the blue fades to the original grey of the natural stone, but slightly darker. And still the stone moves just a bit closer. Until it is practically bumping into Wren.

Amelie is feeling pretty good about the gift.They decide that it’s not time to hint at what’s going on quite yet, so they try to act nonchalant.

Amelie leans on the wall, and stands with one foot flat, the other on the toe. They twirl their feather duster on one finger and whistle.They then say, "Hey, Gert. Trude. I am practicing my whistling. And dusting."

While waiting for the Moon Prince's reply, Monday hears Mel growling through her magical sensors in her gift shop. She steps through space to suddenly appear in the shop, giving the werewolf a placating smile. "Easy, now. Down, girl. There's now need to huff, puff, and blow my shop down," the fairy says. "Truly, you are a discerning customer. And fortunately for you, I am feeling magnanimous today."

Monday reaches under the counter and pulls forth a bundle of straw. They load some of it into a nearby loom and quickly spin the straw together. The straw gleams as it transforms into strand of gold! Monday holds forth the transmuted gold and holds it forth for Mel to inspect. "There, now. Is this what you had in mind?"

Gertrude turns from Robin to see Amelie casually leaning on the wall. Now, that is odd, indeed. The maid rarely does anything casually.

"That's some pretty good whistling and dusting, Amelie," she says. "Hey, I just saw a werewolf girl run by, and Sal and Parish won't make eye contact with me. Do you know what everybody else is up to?"

Amelie knows they must answer Gertrude’s question truthfully.
"Yes."By answering truthfully, Amelie feels confident. And this shows. "Keep asking around, Gertrude. The others may have fun answers, but I would advise you ask a wh-question next time."

Alex roars down the highway on Ichabod, her flaming motorcycle, head tucked securely on her shoulders. As he rides, her mind churns over what Gertrude might truly appreciate.

"Heard she's always got her nose in a book… but that kid deserves something to remind her she’s the hero of her own story."

At the next town, Alex stops at a craft store and browses the aisles. his eyes light up when she spots an unfinished wooden box with a glass top. "Perfect," he mutters. She imagines painting it in shades of midnight blue with silver stars, lining it with velvet, and leaving room for Gertrude to store wishes and secrets.

"This’ll be one-of-a-kind," Alex decides, grabbing paint, brushes, and the box before heading back to the Bed & Breakfast.

Yola stands in the garden, her branches swaying as she talks aloud. "A bouquet isn’t enough," she says thoughtfully. "Gertrude’s got a delicate spirit. She needs something that reminds her she’s cared for, long after the blooms fade."

She gathers the blooms from the garden's Chrysanthemums and Asters, envisioning setting them within a small, pressed-flower frame. "I’ll preserve the flowers and seal them in glass, paired with a line from one of her favorite books. That’ll do."

Gertrude turns back to Robin and cocks her head at him. Like Amelie, he’s answered the question without actually answering the question. "Hmm. Alright, then. Good luck, Robin."

She’s not going to get any answers here. She steps out of the kitchen and onto the back porch, where she sees Yola Oleander gathering flowers. Maybe the old shrub will spill some tea.

She sneaks up on Yola, getting close without her noticing. She then clears her throat. "Hi, Yola. It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? Perfect for a... party? I saw Robin baking a cake. Who is it for?"

Yola Oleander turns at the sound of Gertrude’s voice, branches rattling faintly as she tucks an especially vibrant chrysanthemum into her basket. She doesn’t flinch at being caught off-guard but instead greets Gertrude with a mischievous smile.

"Well, hello there, dearie," she says, her voice syrupy sweet. "A cake, you say? Oh, that Robin. Always finding an excuse to bake. Probably practicing for the next big occasion. Could be anything, really—a wedding, an anniversary…" She waves a leafy branch vaguely. "Find me a day that ends with "y" and I'll find you a reason to celebrate."

Yola's wooden fingers pluck at her basket’s handle. "As for these flowers," she says, holding one up to inspect it dramatically, "Aren't they perfect for a bit of cheer? A little color for the season, don’t you think? Keeps things lively."

Her eyes twinkle with a sly glint as she adds, "But if I do hear of a party happening, you’ll be the first to know. Cross my roots and hope to wilt!"Yola leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Now, between you and me, dearie, I did hear a little something earlier. You didn’t hear this from me, but Robin might be baking that cake for... a proposal."

She raises a branch to her mouth as if to stifle a gasp, her leaves quivering with exaggerated delight. "Yes! I overheard Amelie and Parish talking about a ‘big event,’ and you know how Amelie can’t keep a secret for long. It must be a proposal! Probably Mr. Boggs and Lady Sherry—oh, they’d make such a lovely couple, don’t you think?"

Yola sighs wistfully, clutching her basket of flowers. "Ah, loverly love. So sweet, so fleeting. And if it’s not Mr. Boggs and Sherry, well… I have heard whispers about Robin having a soft spot for the Moon Prince. Can you imagine?"

She chuckles and straightens up. "But who’s to say? This old shrub could just be imagining things. It’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s just the breeze these days."

Gertrude blanches behind her mask. "Sherry? But I thought Mr. Boggs was crushing on Demi Gorgone. And Sherry’s so... so..."

Don’t say old... don’t say old...

"So, uh, seasoned.... Robin and the Moon Prince, though... That would be a sight to see!"

Gertrude sighs and shakes head. She’s still no closer to getting the truth, but her suspicions are heightening. "Thanks, Yola. I’ll see you later.". She wanders off to try to find somebody else to question.