The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 127

As my due date approached, a tense atmosphere settled over the Chaield ducal residence.

Five or six doctors from Chaield Hospital had begun staying at the estate, and Vanessa would firmly hold my hand every time I climbed the stairs.

Had I always been this clumsy?

Claire, who possessed the Areté of movement, was even more extreme. She temporarily moved from the separate palace to the main palace and spent more than half of each day with me.

Feeling the baby’s strong movements and my swollen belly, I couldn’t help but feel nervous. But with everything so well prepared, I felt reassured that nothing major would happen.

“Baby, we’ll be meeting soon.”

As I murmured softly and rubbed my belly, the baby gave a little kick. Smiling, I gently stroked my stomach and picked up my pen again.

Around the middle of my pregnancy, I had proposed an idea to President Pringles. I had realized that anxiously waiting for childbirth would only increase my unease.

In this world, ordinary citizens typically had no knowledge of economics or business. Only merchants or those raised in trade ports had picked up bits and pieces of information, as there was no structured textbook on the subject.

So, I decided to write a simple textbook that explained basic economic concepts using examples.

At first, I thought I could just compile what I had learned into a single volume, but this world had more differences than I expected.

Sorting through newspaper cases and covering various economic theories was tedious yet fulfilling work.

If President Pringles publishes and distributes this book, there will be fewer people recklessly investing in stocks and losing their entire fortunes—or worse, burying their money in the ground and forgetting where they put it.

Just as I finished my work for the day, there was a knock at the door. I was informed that my mother and father had arrived. Placing a hand over my belly, I carefully made my way downstairs.

“We were passing by and thought we’d drop in. Amel, are you feeling well?”

“Oh, you say that, but you’ve been insisting on visiting her since dawn.”

As always, Count and Countess Diane were in perfect harmony. Though they smiled, their faces were filled with concern. And it was obvious what they were worried about.

“Don’t worry. I’m giving birth, not dying.”

“I’m relieved to see you’re so composed. Amel, come here.”

My mother took my hand in hers, and her warmth eased my worries. My father placed his hand gently over ours for a moment before quickly stepping away, rubbing his eyes as if to hide his tears.

Count Diane discreetly wiped his tears as he stepped outside the Chaield residence.

It felt like just yesterday that he had held newborn Amel in his arms for the first time, and now she was about to give birth herself.

This feels strange. I just hope our Amel endures it well…

As he dabbed at his eyes again, he noticed Duke Chaield approaching from a distance, leading a group of ministers.

“All of you, except for Hild, may go inside first. I would like to have a word with Count Diane.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Count Diane quietly observed Kyle. His son-in-law’s face showed no sign of fear.

He had almost forgotten that Kyle was the formidable Duke of Chaield, the man who ruled the world. After all, the only expressions he had seen were the puppy-like ones Kyle wore in front of Amel.

“Your Grace, I’m relieved to see you so composed.”

“…….”

Kyle wanted nothing more than to grab his father-in-law’s hand and ask, What exactly is childbirth?

The hospital director had said that labor would likely start within a few days, but Kyle had no experience with such things. He was terrified.

However, if the husband showed fear, it would only make his wife and everyone else anxious. So Kyle gathered every ounce of his strength to maintain a calm facade.

“Count Diane, if there’s anything I should be particularly mindful of, please tell me.”

“Something to be mindful of… Shall we take a walk?”

It was a casual suggestion, but Count Diane clasped his hands behind his back and began walking with heavy steps. Nervous, Kyle swallowed hard and followed.

Then, out of nowhere, Count Diane asked, “Your Grace, what do you think of my hair?”

“My… your hair?”

Kyle, who had never paid much attention to his father-in-law’s hairstyle, took a closer look.

Despite marrying early and having a daughter about to give birth, Count Diane had no significant signs of graying. The real issue was his hair density.

His brown hair didn’t seem particularly thick, but it wasn’t sparse enough to be called bald either.

“You don’t appear to be balding.”

“But it’s not exactly thick, is it? Your Grace, forgive my impudence, but when I married my wife, my hair was twice as thick as it is now. At least, before a certain incident.”

An incident?

Kyle perked up. The last thing he wanted was to lose all his thick black hair that his sister adored.

“What exactly happened?”

“When my wife was giving birth to Amel, she endured eight hours of labor. Her mother and sisters all went through the same thing.”

“……!”

“To cope with the pain, my wife grabbed onto my hair. And I let her. I wanted to ease her suffering in any way I could, and besides, my mother had assured me that babies simply ‘pop out’ within an hour.”

But Count Diane’s wife had pulled his hair for eight entire hours. Eight hours.

Kyle stiffened at the thought of such prolonged labor.

“At the time, my hair was about a hand’s length, styled in the latest trend of the Hail Empire. My wife wrapped it neatly around her hand and gripped it tightly.”

“…….”

“For some reason, the hair that was torn out that day never grew back.”

By the time Count Diane finished his story, Kyle’s face had gone pale.

It wasn’t just about getting his hair pulled.

He recalled the books he had read—many of them stated that daughters often took after their mothers.

Amel will be in labor for eight hours?

The thought of his wife writhing in agony and screaming made his vision go white.

And what if, after all that pain, she still couldn’t deliver?

Paul had once mentioned that many women went through the full extent of labor only to end up needing surgery to have the baby removed.

“Your Grace, I should return to Amel now. Would you like to come along?”

“…I have somewhere to stop by for a moment. Please go in first.”

Kyle walked away with unsteady steps. The place he was heading to was a space only the heads of the Chaield family could enter.

As he opened the door, a brilliant light filled the room, illuminating the portraits of the previous Chaield dukes hanging on both sides.

Chaield had always chosen its successor through a war of inheritance among its direct sons, meaning all these figures were his ancestors.

Kyle stood before the portrait of the first Duke of Chaield, his gaze fixed on the man’s thick, dark hair. Though the duke appeared to be in his fifties, his jet-black locks were astonishingly full.

…Surely, that’s not a wig.

Suspicious, he examined the portraits of the second and third dukes, as well as all those who followed. Only after careful scrutiny did he feel reassured—it wasn’t a wig.

Finally, Kyle stood before a mirror and studied his own reflection. He ran his fingers through his hair, lifting and ruffling it. His thick, abundant locks met his touch.

With this much hair, I could have at least three children…

He gulped down the thought before it could fully take shape.

A few days later, the Chaield ducal estate entered its long-anticipated state of emergency.

While Amel was seated at her desk, working with her pen, labor pains struck.

The noble families of Chaield and Count Diane were immediately notified to witness the birth of the child. The medical team, who had been on standby, rushed into action.

At first, with the contractions far apart, Amel remained relatively composed. But soon, sweat beaded on her forehead, and her expression contorted with pain.

“Kyle… ugh!”

Clutching the bedsheets, she called out his name.

Kyle tried to follow her into the designated birthing room, but he was stopped at the entrance.

“Your Grace, please leave everything to us and wait outside.”

“But—”

“The mistress and the little one will be fine.”

The hospital director’s expression was tense, leaving Kyle no choice but to comply.

Sitting in the chair just outside the door, he listened to Amel’s screams. It was nothing short of torture. His fists clenched, his body trembled, and his calm facade began to crack.

If only he could be by her side, letting her pull his hair, he wouldn’t feel so helpless. But every time the medical staff murmured something inside, his anxiety gnawed at him.

“Kyle… ahh!”

His name, mixed into her cries, made his heart drop each time.

Overwhelmed by the chaos, Kyle flinched when Countess Diane suddenly reached out and held his hand.

“Amel is strong. She’ll be fine, so Your Grace must stay strong and hold your ground.”

“…Understood.”

Kyle glanced to the side. He had expected Count Diane to offer reassuring words as well, but the man was already in a state of utter distress, sobbing uncontrollably.

The moment Amel twisted in pain again, both men turned completely pale.

Kyle shot up from his seat and began pacing anxiously in front of the door.

Only an hour had passed since labor began. That meant Amel still had seven more hours of pain ahead…

“Waah—!”

“…!”

Kyle, along with everyone gathered in the hall, snapped their heads up at once.

A profound silence filled the space, broken only by the sound of a newborn’s cry.

“You did well, my lady.”

“Madam, you’ve worked so hard…!”

Even inside the once-tense room, the atmosphere had shifted. The relief was palpable.

Kyle, who had unknowingly held his breath, finally exhaled slowly.

After what felt like an eternity, the tightly shut door cracked open.

The hospital director stepped out, his face glowing with satisfaction as he approached Kyle.

“Your Grace, congratulations. You have been blessed with a beautiful princess.”

“…!”

Kyle’s eyes widened, and a sheen of moisture filled them.

Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and entered the room where Amel lay.

“Kyle…”

Amel was cradling the tiny newborn in her arms, exhaustion evident in her features.

Sweat clung to her forehead, her breathing slightly uneven. But despite everything, a gentle, radiant smile adorned her face.

Kyle immediately approached, placing a tender kiss on her cheek. Carefully, he brushed back her damp hair and pulled her into a soft embrace.

As their eyes met, the weight of their shared experience lifted, and Kyle let out an uncharacteristically foolish remark.

“Amel, though I’m a bit late… would you like to pull my hair?”

Amel blinked before breaking into a breathy laugh. Then, without hesitation, she reached up and grabbed a fistful of Kyle’s hair, giving it a solid squeeze before letting go.

Had labor lasted any longer, he might have ended up as bald as an eagle.

…The fact that she actually did it means she really went through hell.

Still chuckling, Amel smoothed his hair back into place.

“Kyle, I appreciate how much you put me first, but could you at least spare a glance at our baby? Her first time hearing her father’s voice, and the only thing you said was about pulling hair…”

She held out the tiny bundle wrapped in a white cloth.

The newborn, freshly freed from her umbilical cord, was red and wrinkled. By no means conventionally pretty, yet the sight of her struck Kyle’s heart with an unexpected force.

“I have never seen a baby this beautiful.”

Kyle gently cradled the infant in his arms, gazing at her in awe.

She was so small. And yet, within that tiny body, a heart was beating. Her delicate features, miniature hands, and tiny feet—each detail left him utterly spellbound.

Before the overwhelming wave of emotion, there was only one thing he could say with absolute certainty.

“My love, I adore you. I still can’t believe we’re now a family of three.”

Holding his daughter close, Kyle whispered his love over and over again.

Amel, in turn, clasped his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin and the steady pulse beneath.

With the cherished fruit of their love resting safely in their arms, the Duke and Duchess of Chaield embraced the boundless joy of their new beginning.

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