Special Story 14

“Oh dear…! Oh, how precious.”

The Duke’s eyes looked as if they could melt into honey as he gazed at the adorable infant. Who would have thought he’d find himself praising a baby just for wriggling in her crib? Even her sneezes, her blinking—every little thing she did filled him with wonder. The mere act of breathing was enough to make her seem miraculous.

Maria Grey.

With her father’s platinum hair and violet eyes, it was already certain that this child would grow up to break countless hearts. Imagining that future wasn’t difficult in the slightest.

She had only just entered the world, yet her skin was soft and fair, her hair fine and light as dandelion fluff. Each time the strands fluttered, she gave off the scent of freshly sun-dried linen.

Following Maria’s birth, the Duke stepped down from all his official duties. He had already been gradually handing over the family’s business and political responsibilities to Armin, but now, the idea of working outside the home while his granddaughter was inside seemed like a personal tragedy. He formally passed everything over to Armin less than a week after Maria was born.

“You love her that much?”

“How could I not? Don’t you?”

Of course she did. The Duchess had long wished for a daughter, ever since giving birth to Armin. Come to think of it, girls were rare in the Grey family. Armin, her husband, and even her father-in-law had all been the only son without siblings.

“She’s so beautiful, it feels like an angel has descended to earth.”

“Now I finally understand what people mean when they say ‘you wouldn’t feel pain even if she were in your eye*.’”

[*T/N: Korean idiom meaning something or someone is so precious and beloved that no matter what you do, even something as painful as putting it in your eye, it wouldn’t cause any discomfort because your love surpasses any pain.]

She recalled how her own father had said something similar when Armin was born. Back then, in her youth, she hadn’t quite understood it—her son was lovely, yes, but not that lovely. But her father had claimed a grandchild would be different, that even if you put them in your eye, they wouldn’t hurt. She remembered thinking back then, ‘He’s too big for that, Father,’ and now a smile tugged at her lips.

“You were thinking about your father just now, weren’t you?”

“You really are sharp.”

“He would have adored Maria.”

Eat, sleep, wake, cry a little, then eat and sleep again—the life of a newborn was a cycle of simple repetitions. And yet, watching Maria, whose eyelids were already fluttering with sleep once more, was something the two of them could never grow tired of.

***

“You’re home? You’re really late today.”

Vivian greeted Armin warmly as he returned. Lately, his homecomings had been getting later and later—work for the official succession of the dukedom was now fully underway.

As soon as he got back, Armin went to wash his hands. He’d had sword practice that afternoon. Watching him carefully check for any damage to his nails made Vivian laugh.

“What are you doing?”

“My nails. You know, that thing… the, uh…”

Armin seemed frustrated, unable to find the right word, and tried to describe the object he was thinking of.

“That long thing—you use it to make your nails round.”

“A buffer? Why?”

“My nail’s split. I don’t want to accidentally scratch Maria’s skin.”

Vivian thought she knew almost everything there was to know about Armin. He’d lived a rather dull life before meeting her, and his personality was open and straightforward, with few secrets.

But after Maria was born, Armin had been revealing new sides of himself more and more often.

“So you’re going to file your nails with a buffer?”

Most men just trimmed their nails with scissors and called it a day. A buffer was a cosmetic tool women used to smooth and shine their nails. He must have remembered the maids using one on him before.

Feeling playful, Vivian grinned as she looked at him.

“Want me to do it for you?”

“My nails?”

Vivian nodded.

“I’m better at it than I look. Let me see your hand.”

Just as he said, one of Armin’s pinky nails was a little chipped after washing. It made perfect sense why he’d be concerned—it was rough and jagged enough to potentially scratch the baby.

She trimmed the nail first with small scissors, then picked up the buffer. Armin had probably only wanted the edges smoothed out, but Vivian wasn’t about to pass up such a fun opportunity.

She began sanding the surface of the nail with the buffer. Moving from coarse to fine grit, she polished the nail until it gleamed with a healthy shine.

Her cheeks twitched with mischief as she worked, and the moment he saw her expression, Armin went on alert.

“You said you were just going to smooth the edges.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“You only needed to file the tip! You’re messing with me again, aren’t you?”

“Messing with you? I would never.”

Vivian widened her eyes in mock innocence. But the way her eyes crinkled like crescent moons gave her away completely—no one could mistake that for sincerity.

“This is all for your sake, Armin.”

“For my sake?”

He let out a disbelieving snort. Sure, maybe it was partially for him, but clearly, most of it was just her having fun.

“Look at my nails.”

Vivian spread her fingers. Her neatly rounded nails gleamed with a perfect, glossy sheen.

“I do this every day, you know.”

“So?”

“Maria will probably end up the same way, don’t you think?”

Armin didn’t quite understand what she was trying to say, so he kept quiet and listened as his wife continued chatting while filing his nails.

“When Maria grows up, we’ll probably have a lot of conversations like this,” Vivian said, still polishing his nails. “Just imagine—what if you’re the only one who doesn’t get it? Don’t you think she’d be hurt?”

Her voice rose at the end, clearly playing up the scene. Armin knew that asking would only encourage her antics, but he couldn’t hold back his curiosity.

“What would she say?”

“‘I can’t talk to Dad! He’s boring!’”

Vivian mimicked the line with a dramatic tone, recalling a commercial she’d once seen in a previous life.

“If you talk to her about things like this now, it builds a connection. Otherwise, she might rebel later. What if she starts going to parties every night and doesn’t come home until sunrise? What if she slams her bedroom door shut, yelling she’s sick of hearing from her parents?”

“So to prevent all that, you’re making my nails sparkle?”

“Exactly.”

Vivian answered without hesitation. Armin said nothing for a long moment—a silent sign of surrender. Chuckling to herself, Vivian finished up the last touches on his nails.

“All done!”

She walked over to put the buffer back on the vanity while Armin stared at his now-glossy nails in silence. Maria, still a newborn, barely had nails at all. Just a thin, firm layer of skin at the tips of her tiny, doll-like fingers.

The thought that she would one day grow up and decorate her nails like this stirred something odd in him—something warm, and a little wistful.

“Let’s go. Your mother and father looked after the baby all day. Thanks to them, I got a good rest.”

“They probably wouldn’t call it ‘looking after her.’ My father handed off all his duties to me just so he could be with Maria.”

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually, right? And you should understand him. Wouldn’t you do the same?”

As they walked down the hallway, Vivian gently scolded him, encouraging him to put himself in his father’s shoes.

“I doubt I’d hand over all my responsibilities to my daughter just to babysit my granddaughter.”

“What if it’s a son instead?”

“Hmm…”

This time, his answer didn’t come with the usual grumble. Both his father and Armin were skilled swordsmen, and naturally, they’d always been a bit stricter with boys. Even though he didn’t have a son yet, he already felt that instinct.

“See? You couldn’t answer right away.”

It wasn’t about loving one child more than the other. It was just that, like his father before him, Armin felt he ought to be a little tougher on a son.

Still, he found himself feeling oddly guilty toward this hypothetical son who didn’t even exist yet. Slightly embarrassed, Armin rubbed the back of his neck.

***

Maria wasn’t even a month old yet, but she already had her own room. In the vast ducal estate—sprawling and palace-like—it was so spacious that, if one tried, the four members of the household could go a whole day without ever crossing paths.

Maria’s room was a cozy one. The family had deliberately chosen a smaller space, fearing that if the room were too large, they might not hear her cries clearly. It was beautifully decorated—soft teddy bears and bunnies, colorful mobiles. Maria didn’t even know how to roll over yet, but the impatient Duke Grey had already bought a rocking horse in advance.

Ironically, despite the size of the estate, the entire household seemed to gather constantly in that tiny room. When the door opened, the Duke and Duchess couldn’t hide their disappointment.

“You’re back already?”

“Already?” Armin echoed.

“You’ve been terribly busy lately.”

“Thanks to Father pushing me so hard, everyone’s starting to acknowledge my abilities.”

The Duke winced and looked away, pretending not to hear.

“I’m old now,” he muttered. “But I’ve gone easy on you—I haven’t handed over the title yet, have I?”

If Armin had to handle succession on top of everything else, Maria might not see her father’s face until her first birthday. That’s how nonstop things had been.

The Duke noticed his son’s cheeks looked a little sunken, worn out from fatigue. Feeling a bit sheepish, he opened his mouth to offer what comfort he could.

“If it gets too overwhelming, bring some work home. I’ll help finish it off for you.”

He expected a quick and polite refusal.

But Armin gave a faint smile and replied, “I thought you might say that, so I already brought the documents. They’re at the front entrance. I’ll have the butler move them to your study, Father.”