⚔️Serberia

Ilva was so surprised that she didn't even know what to say. She looked in astonishment first at Renold, who was grinning from ear to ear, and then at Claudia.
—...Is this... for me? —the girl finally managed to utter the most commonplace phrase.
—Well, I don't think we have any other birthday people here. —the young man pretended to be thoughtful.
—Oh, you shouldn't have, Ren, Claudia, really... —Ilva felt a heavy lump in her throat and quickly turned away, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.
—Let's just make a wish. I really don't know any festive songs, but I have something even better from our good friend, Calentia.
With these words, Renold cleared his throat, took out a neatly folded sheet of paper, and began to read with feeling the poem dedicated to the birthday girl.
Ilva herself blushed deeply and stared at the festive cake, trying to think of something intimate and important. Perhaps, right now, she felt happier than ever. And in light of all the upcoming trials, she wanted to return to this happy moment someday, surrounded by the people closest to her. Perhaps, all this time, she had been looking for something that was right in front of her all along?
Ilva took a deep breath and blew out the candles.