The Maid With a Child - Chapter 41

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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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41. Beautiful.
“Oh, Baby?”
“Adlen, pretty!”
Baby squealed with delight, eyes sparkling brilliantly, as if the Hair Ornament had captured her heart completely.
Adlen’s own heart melted at such unbridled enthusiasm.
So that’s…… how it is?
I’m pretty…… am I?
At Baby’s cry, the others snapped to attention.
“Oh, truly beautiful, Adlen!”
“Really. The Hair Ornament is the clincher. With that on, you look every inch a noblewoman!”
“Exactly. We should really call you ‘lady’ from now on. Our master’s taste is impeccable. How did he find something that suits Adlen so perfectly?”
They all harmonized as if competing in a praise-for-beauty championship, which was thoroughly unbearable to watch.
The master’s thoughtfulness mattered more than her own small heart.
The space to escape was narrowing by the moment.
What remained was the master’s judgment. He was the sort who observed with his own eyes and silently accepted things if he truly approved.
“……Beautiful, indeed.”
“…….”
And then, at last, came the master’s assessment.
The same word, no different from what the others and Baby had said.
“……Truly?”
“It suits you well.”
The only difference was who had spoken—the master—yet her chest sank heavily.
The word “beautiful” could sound dangerous. She couldn’t say why it sounded dangerous.
Adlen couldn’t bring herself to refuse; she only bit her lip.
“……Thank you.”
And so, in the end, the gift could not be returned.
* * *
The birthday had passed, but its aftermath lingered considerably.
Baby, who had been playing contentedly, suddenly began clapping her hands.
“……Has it come around again?”
Adlen steeled herself with practiced ease now.
“Happy Birthday!”
Since Adlen’s birthday had ended, Baby had grown capable of singing “Happy Birthday!” with rather clear pronunciation.
It was strange how things that seemed impossible were gradually becoming possible.
“Happy Birthday!”
“Yes, thank you.”
Being congratulated roughly thirty times a day was a small problem, if it could be called one at all.
The master’s gift, accepted under pressure, had started it all.
She had spent a long time afterward worrying whether she deserved to actually keep it, turning it over in her hands, when the song began.
‘Adlen! Birthday! Birthday!’
‘What? Huh? Oh, oh! It’s your birthday, shall we sing Happy Birthday again?’
‘Happy Birthday!’
It began so casually—yet when the song ended, Baby immediately demanded she put the Hair Ornament in her hair.
Adlen, completely overwhelmed by Baby’s insistent voice, had complied and inserted the Hair Ornament.
The first time was difficult; the second came easily.
Remove the Hair Ornament, sing the Happy Birthday song, insert the Hair Ornament when it ends. Before long, a routine had formed.
“Celebrating your birthday again?”
“……Yes.”
The Butler had witnessed this scene many times already.
“Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday.”
And each time he saw it, he joined in the song and teased her.
At this rate, her birthday would extend through the entire year.
Adlen covered her flushed face with both hands and sighed deeply.
The other two, excluding Adlen, laughed cheerfully, their mirth bubbling over.
Since Baby had begun speaking the Butler’s name, they had grown quite close.
“Adlen pretty!”
And thus began the barrage of compliments.
After “Adlen,” “bug,” and “food,” the word “pretty” had become the most frequently uttered from Baby’s lips.
Whatever Adlen did, it was pretty, pretty.
She had wondered if the master was using “pretty” as little more than Adlen’s name, but it wasn’t so.
He only shouted when Adlen underwent a visible change—as precise as distinguishing a Red-winged Spotted Stag Beetle from any other insect.
On days when her bangs fell particularly neat and composed, when her hair was braided without a single loose strand, when Baby hadn’t woken her in the night and she’d slept deeply enough that her skin glowed with rest.
And on days when she wore the Hair Ornament her master had given her.
“Goodness, our Adlen is beautiful, so very beautiful.”
“Stop it!”
Watching Adlen writhe in exaggerated distress, the Butler burst into laughter.
Each time he teased her, she twisted her whole body, groaning dramatically.
How could he resist when she gave such satisfying reactions?
“Really! Please stop!”
“Why, when you’re so lovely? I’ll have to do this more often.”
“That’s the problem! You and the knights all know the situation, so you won’t misunderstand—but everyone else will see this and start spreading wild rumors about what’s between me and my master!”
Adlen threw up her hands in protest.
This was precisely why she’d remained anxious even after receiving the gift.
“Where does a master give such an expensive present to a maid?”
“Well, that’s true. You don’t think he actually has feelings for you?”
Butler! You were right there listening to his explanation!”
Seeing how much the gift troubled her, Lacart had later explained his reasoning for choosing it.
The gift was the perfect synthesis of every rumor the knights had spread.
An eternal bouquet, jewelry of considerable monetary value, decorative pieces—items with resale value that could net a tidy sum later if needed.
By Lacart’s standards, it was a logically perfect gift.
“The amount of money might reflect someone’s feelings, but with my master it absolutely doesn’t.”
The Butler chuckled at Adlen’s earnest warning, nodding along.
What had begun as teasing had gone further simply because her reactions were amusing—and if word of this spread, it wouldn’t only be Adlen in trouble. He’d face his master’s wrath too.
Unaware of this, Adlen remained deeply worried.
“In any case, you absolutely cannot tell anyone about this, understood?”
“I won’t, I promise. Why would I deliberately spread scandal about the master?”
“You’re truly dependable!”
“But there really is nothing going on, right?”
“……”
“I mean, even if there’s no romantic feeling, there could still be some physical… something, couldn’t there?”
In moments like these, Adlen was reminded that the Butler was only human after all. No matter how armored he was in professional duty, no matter how much of his life he’d devoted to Sigelion, curiosity was irresistible.
“There is something, actually…… every night…….”
“Every night?!”
“My matches with Baby. Multiple rounds, actually.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“After playing with Baby, we’re all so exhausted we collapse. What energy would be left for anything else?”
“……Ah.”
The Butler had been conscripted into those games enough times to know exactly what that meant. The bright fantasies blooming in his mind began to wilt, fading to ash—yet stubbornly refused to abandon that final, lingering petal.
“But your master still has stamina even after all that, doesn’t he?”
“True. My master always has energy left over.”
Whether his vow to thoroughly crush the enemy prince’s will was genuine or not, every match ended in the master’s victory.
But?
So what did that amount to?
“Then…… is it possible the master, unable to contain his excess energy…….”
“My master would never.”
Adlen heard herself speak words that every servant in the household had cried out on the very first day Baby arrived.
“Ah.”
A single syllable—a miracle sentence that could substitute for a hundred excuses.
After that “Ah,” the Butler simply closed his mouth and set about cleaning up the toys Baby had destroyed.
How had she managed to silence the Butler with just a few words? The thought made Adlen so embarrassed she couldn’t bear the silence.
“By the way, Butler, has my master never dated anyone in all this time?”
She’d heard he wasn’t popular, but she couldn’t help wondering if he’d truly never been in a relationship at all.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
The Butler, apparently eager to discuss this topic, lifted his head and answered immediately.
“Not even once?”
“Not even once.”
“I’ve come to realize my master is quite different from his reputation—but to think no one understands his true nature. It’s such a shame.”
The Butler nodded vigorously in agreement with Adlen’s words.
“Indeed. He’s frightening, but such a good man…….”
“Exactly. Frightening or not, there’s no master who takes such good care of others…….”
The fact that the master was a good person and the fact that she was terrifying were two entirely separate matters — the latter could not be divorced from the former.
It was only somewhat less frightening now; she was not unafraid.
“Am I truly that frightening?”
“Eek?!”
“Ah!”
At that moment, Lacart’s voice cut through suddenly.

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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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