The Maid With a Child

Chapter 30. A Helping Hand.

 

Adelen hastily shook her head with a feeble smile.

“Ah, no need, sir. It’s just that my jaw seems a bit sore today.”

By now, it had been over a month since she began staying in the master’s quarters.

Gradually, her nerves had eased.

Half-awake mornings were greeted with a lazy ‘G’morning, sir…’ as she shuffled about, and she plopped herself comfortably onto the sofa.

If the master returned while she was lounging, a casual ‘Oh, you’re back’ sufficed, with no frantic scrambling.

Surprisingly, the master was tolerant.

Not just a little, but excessively so—exceptionally, extraordinarily, ridiculously tolerant.

He seemed devoid of both anger and tears, even in the metaphorical sense. But Adelen reminded herself not to grow too complacent.

No matter how kind he was, a servant could never transform into a noble lady. She needed to stay vigilant.

When Adelen prepared to feign eating for the sake of politeness, the baby let out a soft, discontented sound.

“Uuung… Ooo…”

“Oh, dear, little one. Are you uncomfortable?”

Adelen seized the opportunity and sprang to her feet.

Nothing beat using the baby as an excuse.

“Are you sleepy? Master, I’ll just step away briefly to put the baby down for a nap.”

She tried to escape, but Rakalt stood and examined the baby, letting out a thoughtful hum.

“I’ll hold him.”

“What? You, master?”

Adelen blinked up at Rakalt in disbelief.

He extended his arms expectantly.

“I’ve been too busy to learn how to care for the baby properly until now.”

He explained.

“Why would you… go to the trouble…”

Adelen murmured, trailing off.

“As the person ultimately responsible, I should know how to handle him.”

Rakalt stated firmly.

“And having another pair of hands to help means you’ll get a chance to breathe.”

He wasn’t wrong. Having more hands to care for the baby was good for everyone involved. But could she really entrust the baby to the master and relax?

Hesitantly, Adelen handed over the baby. Rakalt carefully drew the small bundle into his arms.

It was a bizarre sight—the prince of a rival nation cradled tenderly by the general of his enemy. Yet, Rakalt was completely serious, his face resolute as he took on the responsibility of holding a young life.

“Do I hold him like this? And sway him like so?”

Rakalt’s arms were twice the thickness of Adelen’s.

The baby, who had seemed to grow rapidly, suddenly looked tiny again, like a newborn swaddled in his massive grasp.

“Uuung…”

Despite the seemingly cozy position, the baby began to squirm and fuss, clearly uncomfortable in this unfamiliar embrace.

His flailing limbs hinted at an impending storm.

“What’s wrong? I thought I was doing it the same way as you,” Rakalt asked, puzzled.

“Uh… It seems close, but maybe your arms should tuck in a bit more? And you might need to support his bottom better…”

“Like this? Is this better?”

“Eeeng…”

The baby’s whimpering grew louder, a low rumble like thunder before a downpour.

He kicked his legs, one of them landing squarely on Rakalt’s stomach with a resounding thud.

“Ah! Are you all right, sir?”

Adelen gasped, startled as if she’d been the one kicked.

“What?”

Rakalt blinked, too focused on the baby to even notice the impact.

“Uwaaah! Nghhh!”

The baby’s cries were on the verge of becoming a full-blown wail.

With no time to worry about Rakalt’s abdomen, Adelen sprang into action.

“Excuse me, sir! Just for a moment—let me adjust—”

Thus began a desperate attempt by the two adults to pacify the tiny tyrant before the inevitable chaos ensued.

A panicked Adelen grabbed hold of Rakalt’s forearm.

“!”

Rakalt shifted his gaze from the baby to Adelen.

However, absorbed in adjusting his posture, Adelen didn’t even notice his stare. She moved his arms this way and that, carefully adjusting the angles.

“Hnnn… Uhh…”

Until the baby stopped fussing entirely, it wasn’t a victory.

Was it the angle of the arms? The curve of the back? Or perhaps the spacing of the fingers? 

Adelen continued to reposition Rakalt’s arms with meticulous precision, unaware of the audacity of her actions.

“…Uhm…”

Finally, the baby, who had been squirming as if on the verge of crying, suddenly fell silent.

Instead, he sighed heavily and rested his cheek against Rakalt’s chest, relaxing completely.

“!”

“!”

Both adults froze, holding their breath, and looked down at the baby.

Even after observing for a while, the baby remained calm, breathing evenly.

It worked. Rakalt had successfully soothed the baby.

“…Did it work?”

Rakalt whispered, lowering his voice as much as possible.

“Yes, yes..”

Adelen replied, her voice barely audible as she stared in awe at the baby.

How could this be? A miracle had just happened.

The two of them stood there, dazed, gazing down at the baby for what felt like an eternity.

“…Ah.”

It was only then that they realized their hands were still intertwined. Adelen’s eyes darted downward and Rakalt’s gaze followed.

His long, calloused fingers—roughened by countless battles—were surprisingly pale, likely protected by armor.

In contrast, Adelen’s hands were sun-kissed and roughened from working outdoors. Yet, their starkly different hands were entangled together.

Their eyes met where their hands joined.

“Ah! I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Adelen exclaimed, pulling her hand away as though burned.

Rakalt’s gaze lingered on the spot where their hands had touched.

Adelen’s hand was gone, but the warmth left behind remained.

Hands. Holding hands was a common occurrence, nothing extraordinary.

Yet, the sensation on his palm lingered stubbornly.

Her hand wasn’t as smooth as expected, marked with callouses and rough patches. But it was oddly comforting and undeniably warm.

“Uh, Master… Are you alright? The spot where the baby kicked earlier… it sounded quite serious. Are you sure you’re uninjured?”

Adelen stammered, attempting to break the awkward silence.

Rakalt let out a small scoff.

“It healed long ago.”

“Oh… That’s a relief. Still, you should be careful not to aggravate it further.”

Her attempt at shifting the mood made her realize her genuine concern.

Adelen leaned slightly, peering curiously at Rakalt’s abdomen.

“But really… are you sure you’re completely healed?”

Adelen had tended to his injury every morning for only five days before Rakalt declared it unnecessary.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Want me to show you?”

Rakalt asked irritably, reaching to lift his shirt with one hand.

“Ahh! No, no! That’s unnecessary!”

Adelen yelped, startled, and the sudden noise woke the baby with a start.

“Waaah…!”

“Master, someone from the upper hall is here to see you.”

The butler’s voice called out from the doorway, cutting through the commotion.

“…I’ll go see them. Finish your meal at your own pace.”

“…Yes, sir.”

Rakalt handed the baby back to Adelen and left the room.

As he walked down the hallway, his hand brushed against his shirt absentmindedly. He clenched and unclenched his now-empty hand, then lightly grazed the scar on his abdomen, now fully healed.

The maid who fretted over his nonexistent injuries had bandages wrapped around both her wrists.

Those bandages, which Rakalt still personally rewrapped every morning, seemed to multiply—soon it might extend to her waist, knees, or ankles.

She has no end to her injuries, yet she worries about mine?

Rakalt scoffed softly, amused at the impudent maid’s misplaced concern.