Chapter 10

Norma blinked, startled by Aisa’s unexpected words. He had anticipated this conversation eventually, but certainly not now.

Aisa pulled away from his shoulder, her flushed face tilted up toward his.

“…You love children. So why have you never talked about having one with me?”

His golden eyes widened.

Steadying his gaze on hers, he replied carefully, “Before we were married, you told me you didn’t want children.”

Damn it.

She winced internally, recalling how adamantly she’d once pressed that issue, even handing him those bitter contraceptive teas herself.

‘But that was so long ago.’

Aisa gritted her teeth, embarrassed by her past words. She wasn’t a liar, so she couldn’t outright deny what she’d said back then. Instead, she looked at him with an unspoken plea, *Understand my heart now.*

Norma, noting her expression, continued, “…Moreover, having a child would bring many changes to you, far more than to me. It’s not without risks. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, but I didn’t think it was my place to bring it up first.”

To Norma, Aisa was a fragile existence, no matter how strong she appeared. Memories of his own mother, who had weakened drastically and passed from an enigmatic illness after giving birth to Nicholas, weighed heavily on him. If it came down to it, he’d choose living quietly with just the two of them a hundred times over.

Aisa, guilt-ridden, clasped her hands tightly.

“First… forgive me for uttering such thoughtless words in the past,” she began, her voice filled with remorse.

“I never really gave serious thought to having children before. I already have an heir, and…”

Her words faltered. She inhaled deeply before continuing, her voice soft and vulnerable.

“…I’ve been too happy just being with you every day. I never considered anything else.”

Norma swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly. Her candor was more disarming than he anticipated, perhaps aided by the lingering effects of alcohol.

“But then, when I imagined a child who looked like you… the thought wouldn’t leave my mind,” she admitted, her violet eyes glistening with emotion.

Her words wavered at the end, and she let out a soft sigh of frustration, as if scolding herself for being so vulnerable. Norma, on the other hand, was far from composed.

His breathing grew heavier, and his golden eyes darkened with something primal as his body responded instinctively to her sincerity. Aisa glanced at him warily, as though confronting a man she didn’t entirely recognize.

“Why… why are you like this? I’m being serious!”

“And I, Aisa, am always serious,” he replied, his tone rich with amusement.

Norma leaned closer, brushing soft kisses against her cheek to soothe her rising frustration.

“You’ve been imagining what our child might look like, haven’t you?” he teased gently.

“This isn’t an impulsive thought,” she insisted, her tone firm. “I’ve been thinking about it for months.”

“I know,” he murmured, his lips curving into a soft smile.

“Forgive me for not realizing sooner.”

“And if you’re worried about my health, I’m stronger now than before. Maybe not as strong as you…”

Her earnest conviction made her look more determined than ever.

“I want this,” she declared, her voice unwavering.

Her sincerity was endearing, and for a moment, Norma entertained the playful urge to tease her by moving his hips. But he restrained himself, instead giving her a dazzling smile.

“I want this too,” he said simply.

Her face lit up at his reply. Wasting no time, she asked, “I hope the baby takes after you. What do you think?”

Her eager eyes sparkled with anticipation. Norma couldn’t deny the thought of a child resembling her made his heart race.

“I think…”

He paused, voice dropping into a husky whisper.

“I can’t hold back much longer, Aisa. Would that be okay?”

Her violet eyes widened, darting to the side as her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. After a moment, she gave a small, shy nod.

Norma growled softly, his control finally breaking.

“And the tea?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Shall we stop it starting tomorrow?”

Her teasing gaze returned, her lips curving into a sly smile.

“I’ll allow it.”

With her final nod, Norma exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against her shoulder.

“Aisa… I think I’d prefer if the baby looked like you. I can’t imagine anything more… perfect.”

His voice trailed off into a whisper as his hands tightened around her waist.

“Shall we move to the bed?”

Her soft voice startled him, her words brushing against his ear.

“And, happy birthday, my love,” she added with a teasing grin. “Did I tell you today that I love you?”

Norma didn’t even have time to respond before he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

It was three days before Aisa McFoy managed to leave that bed again.

* * *

The autumn after, Vieta McFoy was born.

Her birth was a momentous blessing, the first new life to grace the McFoy bloodline, both direct and collateral, in sixteen years.

The name ‘Vieta’ was a result of much deliberation by Milan Diazi, Norma’s father. The naming of his first grandchild was a dream he had long cherished but never fulfilled—until now.

Despite the joy of her safe delivery, Vieta was not an easy baby.

At two months old, she was a sensitive little soul, wailing inconsolably at unfamiliar hands. Only her mother’s embrace seemed to calm her—though even then, her tiny face often betrayed dissatisfaction. The only person she truly smiled for was her father, and she beamed whenever he held her.

“How does a baby even learn to be this picky?”

I muttered to myself as I watched Norma pacing the room with Vieta in his arms, both of them so alike it was uncanny.

Seymour, sipping tea beside me, replied matter-of-factly, “A newborn’s eyesight isn’t sharp, so she wouldn’t be reacting to looks alone.”

“Then she must recognize that she takes after her father. My daughter’s personality already isn’t ordinary,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

Still, with her father’s angelic silver hair and gold eyes, and an aura to match, Vieta was undeniably an angel in miniature.

“They say newborns aren’t usually very cute at first. But our Vieta? How can anyone be this adorable?”

It was something I said at least twenty times a day. Conventional wisdom painted newborns as red, wrinkly, and unremarkable. But Vieta, with her bright eyes and serene expression, seemed almost too perfect to have come from my body.

“She truly is beautiful, my lady,” Seymour agreed enthusiastically, never tiring of my gushing.

“But she does look strikingly like Lord Norma, doesn’t she? You’d think he bore her himself,” she added, with a faint note of wistfulness.

At that, I noticed Father-in-law Milan watching me with an apologetic smile. He had been a steadfast presence throughout my pregnancy, having come to McFoy early when Norma began exhibiting surprising sympathy symptoms, including severe morning sickness.

‘No need to feel guilty, Father. I wanted her to look like him,’ I thought, gazing at the serene connection between father and daughter.

Still, I mused to myself, ‘I carried her for ten months, yet not even a hint of me? How odd.’

Norma must have sensed my complicated feelings because he turned to me with a rare flush on his cheeks and whispered earnestly.

“Vieta looks so much like you, Aisa.”

“Where, exactly?” I asked, skeptical.

“Here,” he said, gently cradling her as he pointed to her soft, sleeping face.

“She’s just like you.”

At the time, I thought he was merely trying to cheer me up. It wasn’t until much later that I realized he was right—Vieta’s smile was mine, fleeting and rare but deeply reminiscent.

“She only gives those smiles to you, though,” I teased him one day, watching Vieta beam up at him.

Perhaps she was indulging her father’s over-the-top requests, but either way, I didn’t mind.

‘Who cares who she resembles more? They’re both so beautiful it’s ridiculous.’

I chuckled, watching Norma bask in happiness as he held their mirror image.

* * *

When everyone marveled at how much Vieta resembled Norma, one voice insisted she was just like me.

It was none other than Kano, who arrived after an unusually long voyage when Vieta was six months old.

At first, he seemed almost wary of Vieta, his expression guarded as if he were meeting a tiny nemesis. But when she graced him with one of her rare smiles from Norma’s arms, he laughed quietly.

“She’s like you,” Kano said with a strange softness in his voice.

“You’re mocking me,” I replied, narrowing my eyes.

“No. I told you, didn’t I? I fell for you the moment I saw your smile.”

His words were matter-of-fact, void of his usual teasing. I stared, speechless.

A beat passed, then I burst out laughing.

“You’re full of it.”

Kano responded with a delayed congratulations and planted a quick kiss on my cheek.

Norma, who had been calmly holding Vieta, yelped in protest, startling the baby into a full-throated wail. Watching my flustered husband juggle Vieta and his indignation was one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.

* * *

A year passed, and preparations for Vieta’s first birthday celebration were in full swing.

“Everything’s ready, right?”

“Yes, my lady. It’s perfect,” my aide assured me.

Still, I couldn’t shake my nervous energy.

“Where is my husband?”

“He’s in the study with Lady Vieta.”

I put my pen down immediately.

Vieta’s attachment to her father hadn’t waned; they spent most of their days together.

As I entered the study, the scene stopped me in my tracks.

Norma reclined on a green chaise, his long frame bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Vieta, nestled on his chest, slept soundly, her tiny hand clutching his shirt.

The most beautiful sight in the world.

Smiling, I bent down and kissed him softly. His golden eyes blinked open, meeting mine with a warmth that made my heart ache.

“Is everything done?” he mouthed silently.

I nodded.

“And Archie?”

“Still with his history tutor,” he replied, smirking.

I laughed, imagining Archie’s woeful expression.

Then a soft knock interrupted us. A maid leaned in, whispering, “Lady Diazi and her party have arrived.”

My heart fluttered as I glanced down at Vieta, then back at Norma.

The moment I’d been waiting for was here.

“Vieta.”

I whispered, brushing a kiss over her cheek.

“Wake up, my love. There’s someone very special I want you to meet.”

And so, my oldest friend returned, the start of a new chapter in our ever-expanding story.

―<After My Dead End> Epilogue: The End.

TL/N: Fianlly!!! It ended TT Im gonna go cry now lol. Thank you my dear readers for having me translate such a wonderful novel, and thank you for staying here till the end. Thnk you all I really appreciate it.