Chapter 2

Chapter 2 — The Son

Before long, the wet nurse arrived carrying the baby. At six months old, he had grown into a round, healthy little thing, soft with baby fat and full of life.

Held in her arms, he looked around the room with wide, curious eyes.

“Greetings to the brightest star of the Fandrag Kingdom,” the wet nurse said, bending her knees respectfully with the child still in her arms.

“You don’t need to greet me like that. I’m not a princess anymore.”

Both Mea and the wet nurse stared at her in shock.

Right—Cynthia remembered. Even after marrying into the family, she had insisted that everyone treat her as a princess, even having this bedroom arranged to match her royal chambers exactly.

She remembered everything.
What she had done.
What had been done to her.

She remembered the grief and the rage as well.
But she no longer felt any of it.

Maybe it was because her memories of her previous life felt closer.

“Come here.”

At her words, the wet nurse hesitantly placed the baby into Cynthia’s arms.

He immediately reached back toward the wet nurse, clearly uneasy.

He had bright, blazing red hair—and gentle brown eyes, like a latte with plenty of milk stirred in.

“—This face…”

She had seen it before.

Of course.
He looked exactly like his father—like Lias.

Despite having inherited her Light Magic, he resembled his father so much.

The wet nurse sucked in a breath.

Cynthia understood what she was thinking.

She’s worried I’ll harm the child because he looks like the husband I despise.
It was written all over her face.

The baby’s lips trembled, his tiny hands reaching for the wet nurse, about to cry.

“There, it’s alright— ugh.”

Heavy.

Her arms, which had barely been able to lift a spoon until recently, were far too weak to hold such a plump, healthy baby.

She wanted to hug him close… but he was heavy.

So she settled for seating him on her lap, supporting his waist.

He couldn’t sit up on his own yet, but the moment he was placed upright, his crying face softened into mere uncertainty.

Those round cheeks—so soft and full.

Irresistible.

She poked his smooth cheek.

He averted his gaze quickly whenever she tried to meet his eyes, but his long lashes, his round brown eyes—everything about him was lovely.

Then she noticed a scratch on his cheek.

When she touched it lightly, the wet nurse went pale and dropped to her knees.

“M-my deepest apologies, my lady. This morning, during his bath, when I removed his mittens—”

“Oh, his nails? Don’t worry.”

Babies often scratched themselves.
Poor wet nurse… nobles must be hard to serve if she’s this terrified.

Cynthia had never once used mittens on her daughters in her previous life.

“Aaah, uuuh.”

“Oh my, can you already chatter like that?”

She spoke to him happily, but neither Mea nor the wet nurse dared respond. The baby only continued stretching his arms toward the wet nurse.

Cynthia gathered the familiar sensation of Light Magic into her palm and gently touched his cheek.

The scratch faded away instantly.

“There. Your cute face is back to normal.”

The baby blinked up at her, surprised by the sensation.

“Aidan, it’s Mama. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet until now.”

She tapped his little nose, and Aidan only stared up at her with puzzled wonder.
Such an improvement—from crying to curiosity.

Healing magic was said to feel pleasant. Maybe that’s why he looked so calm.

Drool dribbled from his mouth as he focused on her.

“Oh dear, that adorable face is getting messy.”

She laughed softly and wiped him clean. Aidan reached his arms toward her.

She tried to lift her hands to take him—

—but dizziness washed over her.

“Ah…”

“Princess!!”

Someone supported her back and lowered her gently onto the bed.

“I’m fine… I just got a little dizzy.”

“We must stop for today! Even sitting is difficult for you, let alone using magic!”

Aidan, now lying on his stomach on her lap, wobbled unsteadily. The wet nurse hurriedly lifted him into her arms.

“Sorry… I think this is all I can manage today. Please take care of Aidan.”

“Y-yes, of course!”

The wet nurse exited with Aidan.

The moment the door closed, Cynthia fell asleep as if her consciousness had been cut off.

◇◇◇

Aidan had been a pitiful child.

Not only had he grown up without the love of either parent, but misfortune followed him constantly.
Despite possessing Light Magic, his heart had remained closed in darkness.

House Pencilnia had long been a lineage of red hair and brown eyes—users of Earth Magic, warriors by nature, and a family of knights.

Cynthia had once sneered at all of it as filthy and barbaric.

Her barbaric husband.
Her barbaric child.
A child who couldn’t possibly inherit Light Magic if he resembled his father.

She had rejected him.

And so the protagonist grew up with a shadow over him—unable to trust, unable to love, a lonely and isolated young man.

“…No. That won’t do.”

Cynthia muttered to herself in the empty room.

Her body still felt weak and heavy, but all she needed was rest. She wasn’t sick.

The full-body agony she suffered in her previous life was gone.

And in that life…
She hadn’t been able to do it.

She couldn’t do enough for her three daughters.
She had wanted so badly to be an ordinary mother—to shower them with love.

This time, she had been given another chance.

A chance to love her child.

“Aidan… my child.”

She would give him all the love she could.
She would never let him become a child who didn’t know love.

◇◇◇

Her condition improved gradually—frustratingly slowly, but steadily.

She still couldn’t leave the bed for long periods, but she could now hold Aidan properly.
That alone was a huge step.

Compared to the life where her health only deteriorated, feeling herself grow stronger was a joy.

Her complexion was pale, and her nails were still brittle, but her skin—her 16-year-old skin—was smooth and flawless.

“Aidan, do you think I’ll be able to walk by the time you start walking?”

“Bubuu, buu.”

Aidan had recently become fascinated with blowing raspberries.

He ignored her words entirely, puffing out his tiny lips and making noisy “boo boo” sounds.

“Ai-dan. Hellooo?”

“Buu… buu…”

“Aidan— ahh! Too cute!”

Cynthia scooped him up and buried her face in his fluffy belly.
Ah, he smelled so good. And he was so warm and soft.

“Buu! Aagh!”

“Yes yes, sorry, I’ll stop.”

She let go immediately when he protested.

After that first meeting…

Even though he had met his mother for the first time in half a year, Aidan never cried when he saw her. He came to her willingly the next day again.

It had taken some time before he would let her hold him, but now he sometimes asked to be picked up.

He even played on the bed with his toys while sneaking glances at her.

He had become good at sitting and now banged excitedly on his wooden toys.

Another glance.

“What is it? Aidaaan. Mama’s right here.”

She gave him her brightest smile.
Aidan’s lips twitched—lifting slightly.

“Aah! Aidan! You smiled! You smiled for Mama! I’m so happy!”

She immediately pressed her cheek to his.

Warm, soft cheeks.
What healing bliss.

“A-buu!”

“Yes yes, I’m in the way, right?”

He turned his back on her.

A bit cold… but his small round back—so precious.

She poked gently at his soft shoulder, then at his back.
Aidan ignored her, absorbed in his toys.

You’re my fourth child.
My adorable youngest.

“Haaah…”

Her body grew tired again, and she flopped onto the bed. It was enormous—large enough that she could lie sprawled out beside Aidan without disturbing him.

Feeling dizzy, she pinched the hem of Aidan’s clothes and closed her eyes.

She really wanted to lay a futon on the floor instead—it was scary thinking he might fall off the bed.

“Aaah, uuuu!”

Aidan rolled around in protest, telling her to let go.

He’d begun moving quite a bit lately, which made her nervous.

“…Alright.”

She made up her mind and rang the bell.

Recently, they had allowed her to spend her days alone with Aidan. The healer had hesitated, but with the condition that the wet nurse handled the child’s care, permission was granted.

Mea was often busy, so she wasn’t always nearby.

If Mea were here all the time, Cynthia would behave properly. She wouldn’t be this openly doting.

“Did you call for me?”

Mea entered.

“Aidan is going to fall off the bed.”

“Yes.”

The wet nurse came in after and lifted Aidan into her arms.

“Mea. I’m getting off the bed.”

“…Excuse me?”

“If Aidan falls, it’ll be terrible. I’m going to put some cushions on the floor and lie there instead.”

“Wh-what are you saying!? That will harm your already fragile body!”

“I’ll sleep in the bed at night. But during the day, when I’m with Aidan, I’m going to rest on the floor. If I get too tired, I won’t be able to watch him.”

“Then please do not exhaust yourself in the first place! A princess cannot sleep on the floor! Absolutely not!”

“I’m not a princess anymore.”

She had already told them to address her as Madam instead.

“You are the Duchess!”

“It’s fine.”

Cynthia said firmly.

“I want to watch over Aidan. But my body is weak, and I can’t sit for long. There’s no other choice.”

And with that, she pushed through their protests.

In the end, there wasn’t really anything she couldn’t get away with if she insisted.
Power was a scary thing.

She had been able to force her will in everything—
except choosing her husband.

Well, that was expected for a princess of a kingdom.

The way babies let milk dribble from their mouths after feeding, half-asleep…
The way their warm, plump cheeks fall onto your shoulder with a soft thud…

I love it.