Special Story 12

“Is it true? Vivi! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

The Duchess’s eyes widened as if they were about to spill over. She understood, in part, why Vivian hadn’t said anything—perhaps waiting until she was sure—but there was still a hint of hurt that her daughter-in-law, who usually told her everything in detail, had kept this to herself.

“I… I was going to tell you once it was confirmed…”

Vivian gave an awkward smile, and the Duchess responded with a bright one of her own. A child. Vivian and Armin’s child.

The very thought sent a warm rush through her chest that spread to her whole body.

Despite Vivian’s insistence to wait, Armin had already acted on his own. Thanks to the note he’d left on the door, a coachman had been dispatched with a carriage to fetch the physician.

“It’s still very early, so the results might not be certain yet,” Vivian said, though her heart continued to thump excitedly. Being congratulated by the people she loved—this was even happier than she had imagined.

Knock knock.

At that moment, a maid entered the room. All eyes turned toward her, but she was alone.

“Isn’t the doctor here yet?”

“No, madam. A letter arrived urgently from the Roha estate. It’s addressed to Lady Vivian—from the young Lady of the house.”

“Princess Florin?”

Vivian shot to her feet and rushed to the maid. Armin hurried after her, worried she might trip.

The letter, written on elegant stationery, had a scrawl of ink unlike Florin’s usual graceful hand, blurred and rushed. But the penmanship didn’t matter—what mattered was the content. Upon reading it, Vivian squealed and began jumping up and down.

“She’s pregnant! I have a niece or nephew!”

It was a letter saying that Florin had confirmed her pregnancy with a quietly summoned physician the night before. At the end, it mentioned she had told Sasha and her parents first thing that morning. Scribbled at the bottom—clearly written in a stolen moment—was a line in a very familiar hand.

[I’M GONNA BE A DAD!!!!!!!!!!!!]

It was hard to believe such excited words came from the usually composed Sasha Roha.

Armin, who had read the letter with Vivian, had a sparkle in his eyes. There was something strange and moving about the word Dad.

Dad…

Just imagining a child that looked like Vivian made something flutter near his heart.

“Is the doctor not here yet?” he asked the maid.

Only about thirty minutes had passed since the coachman left. They would need to wait a little longer. The Duke clicked his tongue at Armin’s anxious expression.

“Armin. I didn’t act like this when your mother was pregnant with you.”

He stroked his stylish mustache and spoke proudly.

“We went to see the doctor ourselves.”

He drifted into nostalgia, recalling how, the moment his wife said she might be pregnant, he’d prepared the carriage and barged into the family doctor’s home. The day the doctor confirmed the pregnancy—in his nightclothes, no less—felt like just yesterday. Now that child had grown up and was starting a family of his own. It was a touching thing.

“I hope it’s a daughter who looks like Vivian,” the Duke said sincerely.

At that, his wife elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t say that. Whether it’s a boy or a girl, what does it matter?”

The Duke paused to reflect.

A son who resembled Armin would be solid and reliable, just looking at him would fill him with pride. But a daughter who looked like Vivian? That would be pure joy. Just imagining such a delightful child toddling around the house made his stern expression loosen into a silly grin.

Armin, after all, had been a hard child to approach—like the Duke himself once was. Impressive, yes, but not exactly “adorable.”

But look at Vivian, their daughter-in-law. Decorated with honors, revered like a saint, and on top of it all—cute as can be. No matter how he tried to stay fair, the mental scale was tipping.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Ah! Nothing at all, my dear. Boy or girl—what does it matter? They’re both precious, aren’t they?”

But deep down, the Duke couldn’t help hoping it would be a girl.

***

The family physician checked Vivian’s condition several times, his face tight with nerves. Cold sweat trickled down his back, as if he could feel the weight of every pair of eyes in the ducal household boring into him.

Vivian couldn’t hide her anxiety as she watched him. She bit her lips, unable to say a word, her eyes locked onto the doctor as if she could will the result from him.

After a long moment of peering and pondering, the physician finally spoke, cautiously.

“It appears that…”

“Yes? What is it?”

“It appears… it’s still a bit too early to tell. Nothing is clearly detectable yet…”

He quickly estimated the dates with his fingers and repeated two or three times that it was simply too soon to confirm anything for certain. Vivian’s stricken face made it all the harder for him.

“I understand it’s only natural to be hopeful, especially with a first pregnancy… But it hasn’t been long since your wedding. In any case…it’s a bit early. Let’s give it more time and wait patiently. When we check again later, we’ll likely be able to give a definitive answer.”

Despite the doctor’s gentle and detailed explanation, Vivian couldn’t utter a single word.

She knew it was too soon. She herself had chosen to keep it from Armin until things were more certain, for this very reason.

Still… even so…

It was one thing to prepare herself mentally. It was something entirely different to hear those objective words spoken aloud by the physician. The blow was crushing—like bread that had risen too much in the oven only to collapse and sink in an instant. Vivian’s shoulders slumped.

Perhaps she had gotten too swept up in excitement after hearing the news of Florin and her brother’s baby. Without realizing it, her eyes welled up with tears.

She blinked them away quickly. She had to act cheerful—otherwise Armin and her in-laws would worry. Besides, nothing has been confirmed yet. It would be foolish to sink into despair.

“I told you it was too early,” she said, her tone deliberately upbeat as she stood from her seat.

“I got up too early this morning. I think I’m just tired—I’ll go lie down for a bit.”

“Y-yes, of course,” the Duke replied, stumbling over his words—a rare occurrence—his concern showing despite his attempt to stay composed.

As Armin followed Vivian back into their bedroom, only the Duke and Duchess remained in the room.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have called the doctor after all. We should’ve calmed them down ourselves,” the Duchess murmured.

“The hope for a child is a deep one,” the Duke replied. “I just hope she hasn’t been hurt too much by this. Even the doctor said—there’s still no telling for certain.”

“You’re right. But for Vivian, even just waiting those few days will be so hard. Sigh…”

The Duchess let out a long, heavy sigh.

After giving birth to Armin, she had been unable to bear any more children. Remembering the pain and grief of those years, she could fully understand what Vivian must be feeling now.

***

Vivian didn’t say a single word on the way back to the bedroom. Though she had managed to keep up a cheerful façade in front of her in-laws so they wouldn’t worry, the moment they stepped out of the drawing room, her eyes brimmed with tears. Her lips pressed tightly together, and her chin trembled, crinkling like the surface of a walnut.

She threw herself onto the bed and buried her face into the pillow. Warm, damp tears began to pool at the corners of her eyes, soaking into the fabric.

Armin gently patted her back, trying to comfort her.

“Vivian, it’s okay. The doctor said we’ll know for sure if we wait a little longer.”

But his words brought her no comfort at all.

“If we wait… and it turns out there’s no baby, then what?” she said bitterly.

“We’re still young. If we just keep trying, we—”

“I don’t want that!”

Vivian suddenly sat up, and Armin barely leaned back in time to avoid being hit in the face. Her face was a mess of tears. She was sobbing so hard that her nose was running, her voice rising to a sharp cry.

“I don’t want another baby. I want this one! This baby!!”

Even as she spoke, she knew how irrational it sounded. But her heart wouldn’t listen to reason.

“I’ve already given my heart to this baby, and—hic—now… aaahhhhh!”

For the past several days, she had lived with the hope—however faint—that a new life was growing inside her. That thought alone had made her heart flutter. Even when she was alone in her room, everything had felt different. Drinking lemonade, eating fruit—it was as if she had a secret little friend no one else could see.

And now, to think it might’ve all been a delusion, nothing more than wishful thinking—Vivian knew she should stop crying, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“I want this baby. This one! Aaaaahhh!!”

At last, her sobs poured out like a waterfall. Armin pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, patting her back as she wept as though the world had ended.

He wanted to cry, too.

From the moment Vivian had told him the night before, he had known a joy deeper than anything he’d ever experienced. It had only been a short time, but the happiness he felt was profound.

He had never really imagined becoming a father before. But the glimpse of that world—just a sliver of heaven through a slightly opened door—had been sweeter and more beautiful than he ever could have dreamed.

“It’s okay, Vivian. I’m sure the baby is there. We just tried to find out a little too early, that’s all.”

The odds were fifty-fifty.

As his wife wept in his arms, Armin continued to stroke her back patiently, silently praying.

If the heavens truly intended to grant them a child—he pleaded that the moment of that gift might be now.