On the study room floor, there were over a dozen boxes of various sizes.
Harry Hunter looked at Isabella Weaver in surprise, "Why so many?"
"Because I've never spent your birthday with you before, so this time I'm making up for all the previous ones. Plus, one gift is too plain, when gifting the Young Master a birthday present, there should be some style!"
"When did you prepare all these? I told you to rest well at home, didn't you listen? Were you just preoccupied with this over the last few days?"
Harry had received countless gifts before, some priceless, some extremely rare, but none of those things combined were as awe-inspiring as the pile before him.
He held Isabella tight, wrapped an arm around her waist, and whispered softly, "Are you worn out? Why prepare so many? Haven't you already given me the best birthday gift?"
"No gift compares to you and our child."
Laughing, she pushed him away, "Go unwrap your gifts!"
