“Regina.”

Grey clenched his jaw, his voice too hoarse to rise any further. His bloodshot eyes brimmed with tears, and his broad shoulders quivered with silent sobs. That desperate trembling seemed to stir a flicker in Regina’s lashes.

“Uuh…”

“Regina! Open your eyes! You can’t die on me!”

He cupped her face, shaking her gently and pressing desperate kisses onto her cold, clammy eyelids, forehead and nose, pleading with her to wake up.

Maybe his words reached her.

At last, Regina’s eyes fluttered open. She looked at him with unfocused eyes, as though struggling to recognize his face. Then, in a whisper so faint it seemed ready to disappear with the next breath, she murmured:

“Darling… it hurts so much…”

Only then did Grey truly understand what it meant to feel his heart break.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea that childbirth could be so painful. I wasn’t the one experiencing it, yet I still demanded an heir from you, treating it as if it meant nothing. I was selfish. Thoughtless. I should have been there with you while you were in pain. But I was too wrapped up in work to stand by your side. I’m sorry, Regina.”

Shame and guilt surged through him like a tidal wave.

Grabbing her limp wrist, he began striking his own cheek over and over.

“I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life. I’ll beg, crawl, whatever it takes—but not like this. Please… don’t leave me.”

Smack. Smack.

The sound of each blow rang out sharply, the force behind them brutal.

The shock of it helped pull Regina back from the fog. Her eyes sharpened.

“Stop… stop it, Grey…”

The moment she fully came to, the midwife sprang into action, pressing firmly on her belly, as if she had been waiting for this exact moment.

“This is your last chance, madam! Chin to chest—push! Deep into your belly!”

“Aaagh!!”

“The head’s crowning! Just a bit more!”

The pain she had briefly escaped came roaring back, swallowing her whole.

Regina screamed in agony, her body convulsing as though it were being torn apart.

Grey tried to hold her, but she slapped his hand away, clawing at the back of his neck with her shaking fingers.

He didn’t register the pain at all — if anything, he wished it hurt more. He offered himself to her completely, without hesitation or resistance.

Regina sobbed and scratched him, her anguish turning to rage. In that moment, she hated him — he was the reason she was suffering.

“Hnghh… Aaagh!!”

“It’s done! The baby is out!!”
The midwife’s voice rang out, breathless with joy. As she continued tending to what remained inside Regina, Rosalyn and the maids carefully began to clean the newborn.

Through it all, Grey’s eyes never left his wife.

He clung to her now-limp hand, which no longer had the strength to strike him. Brushing aside the damp strands of hair stuck to her sweat-soaked forehead, he flinched slightly when Regina furrowed her brows in irritation.

Worried, Grey looked to the midwife.

“Will Regina be alright?”

“She’ll recover well, so long as she gets proper rest.”

“And the baby?”

“Perfectly healthy.”

Her face, half-hidden beneath the cloth, was splattered with blood and amniotic fl*id. But Grey didn’t feel disgusted. What he felt was immense, overwhelming gratitude.

“I’ll make sure to repay you.”

“Oh, I haven’t done much. You must be a good husband, my lord.”

She gave a wide smile, revealing a small gap between her front teeth.

In her fifteen years of delivering babies, she had never seen a husband so devoted. Their bond was so deep that a woman on the brink of death had come back to life at the sound of her husband’s broken voice.

It was a powerful moment. But something even more moving was still to come.

“Well done.”

At those few simple words, Regina slowly opened her eyes again.

Tears clung to the corners of her reddened eyes.

With gentle hands, Rosalyn placed the swaddled infant into her arms.

“Hello, baby.”

For the first time since she had entered the delivery room, she smiled.

Cradling the child she had longed for, suffered for, and waited for gave her strength she didn’t know she still had.

“I’m your mother, thank you… for being born safely.”

As Regina spoke, tears began to well up unexpectedly. They spilled from the tip of her nose as she pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her baby’s head.

The scent was sweet, soft, and impossibly delicate.

Beside her, Grey struggled to breathe. It was his first time seeing a newborn—so small, wrinkled, and flushed red all over. The baby looked so fragile that even imagining how to raise him felt overwhelming.

“You should say hello too.”

Regina whispered with a smile.

“Uh…”
At her urging, Grey hesitantly extended his index finger, reaching toward the baby’s cheek.

Just then, the tiny infant stretched out a hand and placed it on his finger.

The feeling was indescribable. No amount of logic or experience could have prepared Grey for the weight of that moment.

“Oh my. I think he recognizes his father.”

The midwife remarked, smiling warmly.

Grey’s throat tightened. He couldn’t find a single word to say. Not here. Not now. Not when he was trying so hard not to cry in front of his newborn son.

He blinked rapidly, forcing back tears.

Just then, the door creaked open and Ralph entered, pausing in surprise at the scene.

“Why are you glaring at my grandchild like that? The poor child has only just arrived! What could he possibly have done wrong?”

As he approached, he glanced at the midwife, a flicker of concern in his eyes—Was something wrong with the baby?

But she shook her head, offering a reassuring smile.

Relieved, Ralph walked up to Regina. Seeing his daughter so pale and worn-out, all within a single day, made his chest tighten.

“…You’ve done something incredible, truly, you’ve worked so hard.”

Regina shook her head gently, still beaming.

“No. I’ve done something joyful.”

She turned the baby slightly so her father could see him better. Pride and love filled her face as she showed him the child.

The sight of his first grandchild hit Ralph like a wave. Overcome with emotion, he covered his mouth with both hands—only to drop his crutch and nearly stumble backward.

Rosalyn quickly caught his arm and steadied him.
“It’s a boy.”

“A boy, is he? My grandson! No wonder I thought he looked handsome—he takes after me!”

At that, Grey’s teary, emotional expression suddenly stiffened.

“You seem to be forgetting—he’s my son.”

“Look at that forehead, and the shape of his nose! Clearly, he takes after my side of the family!”

“Since when was your nose bridge that high, Father-in-law?”

“Hey now! I’ll have you know that I had a fine, noble nose before I fell and banged it as a boy. It used to be quite prominent…”

And so began the thirty-year debate over who the future 2nd Count of Cabil, later known as the most handsome man in Wailin, had inherited his stunning looks from.

“Men…”

Rosalyn clicked her tongue and leaned gently against Regina’s side.

She looked exhausted—not quite as much as Regina, but clearly worn from the twelve straight hours spent in prayer and caring for her niece.

“If you ask me, he looks just like you.”

There was a rare sparkle of mischief in her eyes, and her voice was soft—meant for Regina alone.

“I think so too.”

 Regina replied with a quiet giggle, squeezing Rosalyn’s hand. For the first time in what felt like forever, she felt she could finally sleep in peace.

***

“So, your name is Theodore, huh?”

Nadeira crossed her arms, giving her friend’s son a slow, deliberate once-over.

He was supposedly only four years old, but his striking features were anything but ordinary—sharp eyes, a refined nose, and lips shaped like a delicate bow.

And that hair—shimmering like pure silver—paired with eyes the color of amethysts…

‘This kid… he’s going to break hearts when he grows up.’

It made sense, of course—his parents were stunning. But did he really have to be this good-looking?

As if being born with a diamond spoon in his mouth wasn’t enough.

‘I don’t like him.’

Nadeira thought, narrowing her pale green eyes. Just then, the boy, who had been silently observing her, finally spoke.

“Noona.”

“…Did you just call me noona?”

“How old are you?”

This brat…

Feigning an air of superiority, Nadeira tilted her chin up and shot back.
“Why don’t you guess? How old do I look?”

“Hmm…”

Theo furrowed his tiny brows in deep concentration. Nadeira held her breath without realising it as she waited for his answer.

“…Seventeen?”

“Oh my—oh my goodness!”

At that moment, Nadeira made a firm decision: ‘I’ll protect you from now on.’

A few minutes later, Regina entered the room, looking utterly bewildered.

The usually composed and elegant Nadeira was on all fours, crawling across the carpet—and seated regally on her back, like a tiny prince on his noble steed, was none other than Theo.

Regina’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Theo! What on earth do you think you’re doing to a lady? Get down this instant!”

“I gave him a ride! What kind of parents are you? He told me he’s never played horsey before!”

‘What is she talking about? The maids are always giving him lifts — he hardly ever walks anywhere on his own.’

But before she could speak, a graceful hand reached out from behind and gently covered her mouth.

“A lady’s kindness toward children and animals is among her finest virtues.”

“Miss Nadeira, it seems your character is far more admirable than it first appears.”