The Maid With a Child - Chapter 64

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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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64. The Baby’s Wish
Adlen swallowed hard, lifted Havel into her arms, and rose to her feet.
Even in that moment, she instinctively looked for something—someone—to anchor herself to.
Racalte had not moved from where he sat, but his eyes remained fixed on Adlen and Havel.
Courage bloomed in Adlen’s chest. With him here, there was nothing to fear.
“I… it doesn’t appear that either of the children are hurt.”
“Whether they’re hurt isn’t the issue. My child was hit.”
Her attempt to smooth things over before any real confrontation could begin fell flat.
“But actually, it was Havel who struck first…”
“And?”
“It’s difficult to call it entirely his fault, though—”
Children squabbling is one thing; we can laugh it off. But this crossed a line.”
“Children don’t even understand what a line is!”
This was nothing but venting frustration.
She had no obligation to sit quietly while people she didn’t answer to took out their anger on her.
Racalte, whom she’d glimpsed several times during her words, remained still and watchful. It was permission to do as she wished.
“And it’s not Havel’s fault that she’s beautiful and well-liked!”
“Are you saying our child is ugly?”
The parents cried out in a fury.
She hadn’t said anything quite that harsh, but honestly—looking at both the parents and the child—it would be difficult to call them beautiful.
The way they trembled at the implication only confirmed what everyone already knew was a sore point.
“I never said anything of the sort…”
“How dare a nursemaid speak to us this way!”
“!”
The class attack she’d feared had finally come.
Adlen’s jaw clenched.
Even if the child she served was the Crown Prince himself, it was her mouth that spoke—a servant’s mouth. If a noble chose to silence it, there was no one to give her voice back.
That was when Racalte stood and approached.
The parents’ words died on their lips at once.
“So this is how children’s squabbles turn into adult disputes.”
Adlen slipped behind Racalte’s back.
It had been a fight she could hold her own in, yet the moment they invoked rank, defeat became inevitable.
But she couldn’t bear to lose for the sake of the child she served—and his arrival was a mercy she was grateful for.
The parents’ expressions grew harsher as they sensed their disadvantage in Racalte’s presence.
“So if it’s an adult dispute, should the guardians duel to settle it?”
“What? No, I didn’t mean—”
“Then?”
Racalte had no will to fight. That very absence squeezed the breath from his opponents.
To strike first was terrifying; to back down was humiliating.
A tense standoff stretched on.
It was then that the party’s hostess, Marchioness Jellent, stepped in.
“Well, well. Perhaps we ought to comfort the child who’s crying first.”
“Wahhhhh!”
While the adults were busy quarreling, the child Havel had struck continued to cry.
The parents made a gesture toward their nursemaid, as if to say there was nothing to be done.
Only then did the nursemaid, who had stood watching helplessly, hurry over and scoop the crying child into her arms.
“…?”
The sight struck Adlen as profoundly strange.
Here was their own child weeping before their eyes, yet they did not embrace and soothe the child themselves—instead they called a nursemaid to do it.
But no one seemed to find it odd, and no one spoke of it. It was treated as perfectly natural.
“My young lady, is Havel all right? Let me see…”
Unable to shake the strange, unsettled feeling, Adlen led Havel to a quiet corner and examined her.
“Adu!”
Fortunately, her child had no serious injuries and had lost none of her spirit.
“Well done, my young lady.”
If anything, victory was best of all.
Adlen stroked Havel’s hair and watched the other family’s child, the one who had started the fight.
The child lay in her nursemaid’s embrace, weeping and wailing.
“?”
Yet even as the child cried like that, the nursemaid’s face remained blank as she merely patted her back.
‘Our little one doesn’t seem indifferent, picking fights like this,’ Racalte thought.
Even now, he hadn’t taken his eyes off the child.
Havel, whom Adlen had soothed, had stopped crying quickly. But the other children were still wailing.
“That’s quite enough. How much longer do you intend to disgrace the family name?”
Finally, the parents intervened. But rather than comfort, they rebuked.
The baby froze at the parents’ cold rebuke, tears still glistening unshed in frightened eyes.
Though the baby had been the one fighting with Havel, seeing this broke Adlen’s heart.
Yet the others showed no particular reaction. It seemed utterly ordinary, perfectly natural.
‘They’re family.’
Something cracked deep within Adlen’s chest—a sound like breaking.
It was the fracturing of the myth of family she had held so firmly until now.
Not all families are harmonious, even within blood relations. She knew this in her mind.
But she hadn’t realized that so many members of this family were merely performing their roles with such precision—that it resembled nothing so much as a workplace.
“Well then, it seems everyone is gathered. Shall we celebrate the birthday?”
Once the two children had stopped crying, the Marchioness Jellent stepped forward to restore order.
The other children, as if nothing had happened, began to gather and play again—the timing was apt.
“We thank you all once again for gathering today to celebrate our daughter’s birthday.”
The Marchioness Jellent came forward and offered her greeting, and the adults clinked their Champagne glasses. At that moment, the waiting servants appeared, wheeling out an enormous cake.
“Biffday cay!”
The moment Havel spotted the cake, he responded instantly. Truly, young children recovered quickly.
Havel pushed off from Adlen’s arms and launched himself toward the cake—half crawling, half flying.
“Biffday cay!”
Adlen had no chance to stop him.
Havel reached Lady Jellent’s side and clung fast to her. It was the perfect vantage point for viewing the cake.
“Havel…?”
Lady Jellent blinked in surprise.
“Biffday cay!”
Havel, standing right beside her, began clapping his hands and launched into an unceasing Birthday Celebration song.
Normally there should have been preparation, counting of beats, and an orderly start. But Havel had rushed ahead.
Adlen hesitated—should she run over and stop him, or let it be?
The other children were stricter about such rules. Lady Jellent herself, now turning two, might have gotten upset that it wasn’t yet the proper time to sing.
“Kyah-hee!”
But the newly two-year-old Lady Jellent clapped her own hands and laughed with delight.
Her eyes never left Havel.
“Biffday cay!”
Several months older, Lady Jellent’s pronunciation was far clearer than Havel’s. Could even a child’s eyes recognize another child younger than herself?
Adlen clapped along with the two dear children’s singing, her smile warm and content.
Everyone else clapped as well.
Just as at the King’s birthday party, the Birthday Celebration song repeated dozens of times before finally drawing to a close.
“Now, shall we make a wish and blow out the candles, miss?”
Lady Jellent’s nursemaid whispered the next step to her.
“Mmm!”
Lady Jellent’s eyes sparkled—she had been waiting for this moment.
As if anticipated beforehand, a massive Birthday Candle stood planted atop the enormous cake. It was sized so it wouldn’t be extinguished by any ordinary breeze, and wouldn’t melt away even after the longest song.
There was even a drip-catch attached beneath the candle to protect the cake perfectly.
‘I need to remember this.’
This was why interaction mattered. There were limits to what one could devise alone.
The brightly burning Birthday Candle captivated every child’s attention at once. Being the center of all eyes was yet another joy for a child.
“Make a wish!”
Lady Jellent squeezed her eyes shut tight and murmured wordlessly to herself for a while, then suddenly lifted her head and cried out.
“Now, so your wish comes true, try blowing out the candles.”
“Mmm! Puff!”
The sturdy candle had a drawback—despite there being only two of them, they wouldn’t go out on the first try.
“Ung…? Puff, puff! Puff!”
Lady Jellent blew several times, but her aim was off—the flames merely flickered without extinguishing.
Unable to get her way with the stubborn flames, Lady Jellent’s face began to crumple.
Then it happened.
“Puff!”
Havel, who had remained pressed to her side the whole time, stepped in and blew.
The candles went out in one swift breath.
“?!”
She’d blown out the Birthday Candles meant for the Baby instead.
This was a far greater disaster than any of their scuffles.
Adlen rushed to salvage the situation. But she was too late.
“Havel!”
“?”
Lady Jellent burst into laughter and threw her arms around Havel in a tight embrace.
Then she made her declaration.
“I want to compete with you, Havel!”
“?!”
A shocking announcement in the wake of the catastrophe.

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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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