“Lady Anastasia seems to enjoy the time she spends with you, Your Grace.”

She doesn’t cry, and she eats well too.

I offered words that any parent would like to hear.

If only he could develop some human affection this way.

Even if Duke Cromwell just gave a deflated laugh, that would be a good start.

“…Is that so.”

But what returned was that dry tone, completely devoid of interest.

“Of course! Lady Anastasia is naturally gentle, but she seems to follow you particularly well.”

What followed was my flattery so excessive it would be impossible to watch without tears.

“They say babies know who their caretakers are.”

“Lady Anastasia must enjoy being with you! This is the first time she’s been so bright in the morning.”

I tried my best, but…

“I see.”

“Understood.”

“Right.”

All his responses were this pathetic.

The conversation wasn’t flowing.

“…”

Worse still, he was starting to look annoyed even listening to me.

This was more serious than I’d anticipated.

I couldn’t waste the first meal like this.

I needed to build a bond, whatever it took.

Oblivious to others’ feelings, Duke Cromwell consistently maintained his stoic demeanor, nibbling at his food while reviewing documents.

‘Sigh…’

I hadn’t planned to make progress so soon.

Given the bleak future ahead, I’d planned to go through each step sequentially.

Thinking about what lay ahead made me tense.

I needed to speak at the perfect moment.

As Duke Cromwell set down his spoon and his eyes lifted from the documents.

I timed my words to that exact moment.

“Would you like to hold Lady Anastasia?”

I’d done it.

My plan had been to first let him get familiar with the lady’s face, then have him hold her hand, and only then suggest holding her.

At this rate, it would take a year to accomplish.

‘The ending comes in just three years.’

Time was of the essence.

Duke Cromwell looked at me, who had been quiet for a while, clearly not expecting such a proposal.

“I think Lady Anastasia would enjoy being in your arms.”

Surely he wouldn’t object to holding her.

I might have worried if this was his first interaction, but Duke Cromwell was the one who brought her from the ruins to the duchy.

‘And he carried her here!’

But no response came.

I wasn’t expecting the Duke to flash a gummy smile and happily take the baby, but the lack of response was awkward.

‘Embarrassment is only momentary.’

I couldn’t let fleeting emotions hold me back.

I changed my approach.

If I couldn’t speak up now, all my future plans would fall apart.

“It’s so sad when a child longs for their father.”

“…”

Duke Cromwell frowned slightly, as if he didn’t understand.

At least he wasn’t ignoring me. That’s good.

I recited all the baby knowledge stored in my head.

“They say newborns remember their parents by smell, and Lady Anastasia surely remembers yours.”

“…”

“So your arms must feel the most familiar to her!”

The Duke looked somewhat displeased.

“Please take her quickly. My arms are getting tired.”

I urged him, showing Anastasia.

In truth, holding a baby less than a month old wasn’t particularly tiring, but…

“…”

Just as I worried he might detect my lie, Duke Cromwell took Anastasia from me.

Does he tend to get swept along when pushed?

While analyzing what change of heart made him take Anastasia, I decided to enjoy this unexpectedly heartwarming situation.

“Supporting her with your arms is much more comfortable than just holding her with your hands.”

I pointed out his awkward posture, but seeing his surprisingly large hands, I concluded my concern was unnecessary.

‘He’s holding the baby like a hotdog.’

The white swaddling cloth makes her look even more like one.

‘Should I suggest he try feeding her too?’

Strike while the iron is hot—with the mood flowing this way, I wanted to make him do everything possible.

Holding with arms would be more convenient for feeding.

“Think of holding her like this.”

Rather than taking Anastasia back to demonstrate, I used my freed arms to show the position.

Teaching step by step was cumbersome, but it was part of building a bond with his daughter.

“Better than before.”

Duke Cromwell muttered as he adjusted his position.

His reaction was flat, but I accepted that he might not feel immediate affection since she wasn’t his biological child.

I planned to hand him the bottle at the right moment with a suggestion like “Would you like to feed her?” to prevent the baby from being tossed back to me.

“I knew Lady Anastasia would like it!”

I continued encouraging him.

Perhaps curious about seeing the baby after ten days, Duke Cromwell looked at Anastasia.

Unfortunately, the baby only blinked her eyes without smiling.

‘Still, it’s good that she’s calm.’

Lady Anastasia, please slowly melt your father’s heart.

‘Just a few more seconds…’

My hand tightened around the bottle.

“Lady Anastasia loves her father—”

But I had to end my flattery.

“Waah! Waah—!”

Anastasia, who had been whimpering, suddenly burst into tears.

It was an ear-piercing cry.

She wasn’t going “waah” but more like screaming “AAACK.”

Babies crying is normal, but…!

Why did she have to cry while the Duke was holding her?

Worried Duke Cromwell might be displeased, I quickly spoke up.

“Haha! She’s just hungry! Would you like to try feeding her?”

I thr*st the bottle into his hands.

“Just tilt the bottle for easy feeding. About this much—”

I guided him to feed Anastasia.

“Oh! Don’t hold it that vertically!”

“…”

I urgently grabbed his hand to adjust the angle.

The crying continued, but knowing babies this age usually cry from hunger, I wasn’t too worried.

There’s no greater satisfaction than successfully soothing a baby.

“Check the remaining amount and adjust the angle accordingly. Everyone makes mistakes at first, so don’t worry too much. Oh, not that I made mistakes from the beginning.”

Now Anastasia just needed to drink her milk and stop crying…

For some reason, Anastasia refused the milk.

Her tiny head moved around, declining the bottle.

“Waah!”

Of course, the crying and whining continued.

“This, this isn’t right.”

I said in confusion.

Not only might Duke Cromwell think of me as an incompetent nanny, but I might be witnessing the moment when “father-daughter breakfast” vanishes into history.

“Would you mind giving her to me?”

It seemed ridiculous to ask him to keep holding a crying baby, so I offered.

Duke Cromwell handed the baby over as if he’d been waiting for this.

Though his expression didn’t change, weariness seeped through.

If it shows this much, does it mean he’s completely fed up?

What if he really is?

A flood of emotions washed over me.

And when I took Anastasia,

“…”

“…”

The lady became quiet as if she’d never cried.

“The lady seems more comfortable with you.”

His tone suggested I should handle this and not bother him with useless attempts.

“I, I’m just more skilled because I’m a professional, and it’s your first time, so this can happen!”

Isn’t that why you’re paying me so much?

I spoke more earnestly than when I had to dress up my answer to the interview question “What made you apply for this position?” when I really wanted to say “I need money.”

“I have to earn my keep! Hahaha.”

Nothing cuts deeper to a parent than hearing their child prefers someone else over them.

To prove this was a terrible misunderstanding, I encouraged Duke Cromwell to hold the lady once more.

He sighed and took her again,

“Waah!”

Anastasia started crying as if on cue.

When I took her back,

“…”

Anastasia became quiet as if she’d never cried.

Content for some reason, the baby peacefully chewed on her lower lip.

It was such a peaceful scene that I questioned whether she’d cried at all.

Anastasia cries just from Duke Cromwell’s touch.

Anyone could see that fact.

It would be cruel to ask Duke Cromwell to hold her again, and I had no way to sugar-coat it, so I finally said:

“…Crying is also an expression of affection!”

Everyone in the room knew that was nonsense.

‘Ah, this is exhausting.’

I wore an awkward smile, praying for this hellish time to pass.

No more conversation followed.

‘They say staying still gets you halfway there.’

Anastasia, who had panicked at Duke Cromwell’s attempts to give her the bottle, emptied it instantly when I fed her.

‘This just confirms everything the Duke said.’

I swallowed a sigh.

I wanted to say something to salvage the situation.

After a long silence, Duke Cromwell set down his utensils.

The atmosphere was terrible, even for small talk.

After wiping his mouth with a napkin, he spoke. I could easily tell he hadn’t given it much thought.

“This meal will be the last—”

I could see the future: This will be the last. Don’t come tomorrow. This breakfast was a mistake—

“I’ll see you tomorrow at seven as well!”

So I interrupted him.

Whoever speaks first makes the law.

Having made a promise without his consent, I shouted that sentence and fled the dining room.