The Maid With a Child - Chapter 36

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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36. Uncle, Father, Brother
“……General Racalte.”
Racalte murmured the words to himself.
He wasn’t satisfied.
Adlen barely stifled a laugh that threatened to burst forth.
“General Racalte, yes.”
Even as she thought it through, Adlen found the title perfectly suited.
Not “master,” not “sir”—the remaining options were uncle, father, or brother. If she used any of those three, she’d be in real trouble.
Adlen had acquired one more task.
The birthday song, and learning to say General Racalte.
“Baby, from now on it’s not “sir”—it’s “General Racalte.””
“Wuh?”
“Ra-cal-te, Gen-er-al.”
“Accatoo!”
“……It does sound a bit similar……?”
Adlen tilted her head with a puzzled expression and smacked her lips thoughtfully.
Since Baby picked up things so quickly, she harbored a secret wish that he’d grasp speech even faster.
And more than anything, she hoped he’d master his father’s name more readily. Surely then the master would feel more affection for him.
“Come on, Baby. Say General Racalte. General Racalte.”
“Accatoo, appau, appa……?”
“No, not father, but—……what?”
“Appa?”
Her heart went cold.
No, that was far too much. Adlen’s head shook vigorously in panic.
“No, no. Racalte, Racalte, Racalte!”
As she desperately repeated the master’s name in her attempt to correct the child, Adlen suddenly became aware of something else.
Wasn’t she—right now, with her own mouth—calling the master’s name carelessly, recklessly, any which way?
“……M-master. I was only trying to teach Baby, so…….”
Adlen, pale as a sheet, stammered out her excuse.
Racalte wasn’t actually angry about it. If anything, a different thought had occurred to him.
“Perhaps you should change how you address me as well.”
“What? Me? Why?”
“You’ll be accompanying me to High Society functions from now on, and everyone there uses that term—master—constantly.”
“Ah. ……But even so, I only attend where you go……?”
Weren’t terms like miss, young lord, and lady also used commonly enough?
“There’s no need to advertise broadly that you’re a maid.”
“I see…….”
When he put it that way.
Many people treated a maid as though she were everyone’s slave, acting with crude discourtesy.
Whenever she went shopping in her maid’s uniform, she inevitably encountered someone who treated her as if she belonged to them.
Among the nobility, it would likely be even worse.
She could endure disrespect to herself without complaint, but she couldn’t allow Baby’s standing to suffer on account of it.
“Then what should I call you?”
“My name.”
“Your name…… So, Racalte, sir?”
Racalte, sir.
His own name carried an unfamiliar ring when spoken that way.
Completely different from how his parents or the King had ever called it. Different, too, from how the pretty birds of High Society had shaped the words in their mouths.
None of their voices had ever reached all the way to his heart.
But Adlen’s voice somehow traveled deep within him—to that place touched only by the deepest breath, where the innermost self resided.
“……That will do.”
At Racalte’s approval, Adlen smiled brightly and tried calling him again, as if practicing.
“Racalte, sir.”
A brief smile crossed Racalte’s face in response.
“Yes.”
And he answered even though he knew it was practice.
* * *
Adlen threw herself into everything with diligence.
For someone without foundation, sincerity was an essential virtue for success.
Following the work of soothing Baby’s cries, feeding him, putting him to sleep, and playing with him, she gave her full effort to preparing the King’s birthday celebration.
Yet effort alone did not guarantee success.
“Now then, Baby. Try to repeat after me. Happy… birthday… to you.”
“Uh?”
…….
Adlen’s shoulders sagged at Baby’s painfully slow progress with language.
At first, she’d had patience in abundance. Now urgency was beginning to creep in.
The party date crept closer with each passing day, yet Baby could manage only a handful of words. Nothing more.
Who knew that “happy birthday to you” could be so difficult? The thought struck her anew.
“Aduen! Ball, ball!”
“Yes, it’s a ball……”
“Yellow ball!”
His favorite Yellow Ball.
He refused to practice what she’d taught him, yet everything she hadn’t taught him, he mastered with ease.
“Our yellow ball and happy birthday to you. Oh, the yellow ball is having a birthday! Hurray, happy birthday!”
Adlen had tried every conceivable approach.
Nothing worked.
Her vision blurred with despair.
Teaching words alone would be fine if it took longer. But this couldn’t afford to wait.
The King’s solemn command hung over her, yes, but Baby’s dignity and Racalte’s reputation were at stake too.
Already, people would regard a Crown Prince of an enemy nation with cold eyes.
And if he couldn’t even speak properly? If he appeared foolish?
Far more would mock him than find him endearing. She couldn’t bear that sight.
Our Baby is not an idiot. Never.
Our Baby is a genius.
“Baby, you will not be treated like a fool. That’s why we must do this. Come now, repeat after me. Birthday……”
“Ball!”
“We’ll play with the ball later!”
“Aduen! Ball!”
Two things grew as rapidly as Baby’s physical strength. One was his body itself; the other was his stubbornness.
So willful was he that once he latched onto something, he clung to it like a leech, refusing to let go.
A maid was meant to indulge every whim, she knew, but his obstinacy had pushed her past her limit more times than she could count, earning cries of exasperation.
His favorite game by far was playing with balls. Next came things like throwing wooden blocks and hitting games—amusements Adlen couldn’t participate in. If she tried to join, she’d likely end up bedridden the next day, requiring Racalte, the steward, and even the Knight Order to intervene in an absolute catastrophe.
Adlen shook her head firmly.
“No ball play right now.”
“Whimper, ball!”
When Baby didn’t get his way, he began to whimper and threaten tears.
So he’d even learned to fake cry. Somehow he always knew to deploy his most fearsome weapon.
The reason he couldn’t play with the ball today was simple: there were no balls left.
The rate at which balls broke only accelerated with time, to the point that replacing them could no longer keep pace with his destruction. The replacement batch was still being made, and not a single one was currently stored at home.
“Ball!”
“Um, ah……”
A flood of tears loomed. Adlen glanced around desperately, searching for an alternative. That’s when she spotted a Ttaggi lying in the corner of the room.
“How about instead of a ball, we play the Bug-Catching Game?”
“Bug?”
“Yes! Bug-Catching! You like it, don’t you? Here, I’ll fetch it.”
The Bug-Catching Game had originated from the day a beetle flew in through an open window and Baby smashed it bare-handed.
Watching him chase the darting insect with his tiny palms, striking the floor with such fervent enthusiasm—he’d been absolutely delighted. So engrossed that he’d forgotten about his ball entirely.
So she’d given him a Ttaggi with a beetle drawn on it instead of a real one. A string was tied to the end of the token; when you pulled it, the beetle would flip and bounce in all directions.
“Pretty! Bug!”
“You like it? How wonderful, how very wonderful indeed! Now then, shall we practice happy birth—”
“Bug!”
“Yes, yes……”
At this point, perhaps he simply didn’t want to learn the birthday greeting.
He was pretending otherwise, but in truth, he was a genius—intelligent enough to understand his own predicament, intelligent enough to know that the person he was meant to greet was a king.
Unlikely as it seemed, her growing frustration at his inability to master just those words was spawning all manner of wild speculation.
“Shall we begin?”
“Bug!”
Adlen tossed the Ttaggi with vigor. Baby squealed and threw himself after it.
“This time, it’s a red beetle!”
Since she was making them anyway, she’d drawn various beetles of different kinds. She figured that even the same token, if each side featured something slightly different, might seem fresh enough to hold his interest a little longer.
Adlen herself didn’t know insects well, so with help from a Knight Order member who was fond of insects, she crafted a Ttaggi.
“Bba-gang-na-gae-jjeum-ba-gi-sa-ttun-beo!”
But Baby had just cried out words he’d never heard before in his life.
“Huh……? What?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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