The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 129

Kyle leaned back against the cushions on the bed, cradling his freshly bathed daughter in his arms. The soft scent of baby powder tickled his nose.

“Eclit.”

He murmured her name gently. Her tiny body, only a month old, clung to his chest, rising and falling with each steady breath. A deep sense of peace washed over him.

Kyle tickled Eclit’s fingers, gazing into her eyes, the same color as his own.

“Eclit, do you feel good after your bath?”

“Kyah—!”

“Eclit…”

Kyle let out a sigh of surrender, whispering her name as if conceding defeat.

Whenever she smiled, the dimples that appeared were identical to Amel’s, making her look even more adorable.

Even the soft curls beginning to sprout on her head seemed to take after Amel. Kyle couldn’t suppress the affectionate smile tugging at his lips.

“Kyle, are you really that happy?”

Kyle turned to look at his wife, who was lying beside him.

Having participated in Eclit’s elaborate bath-time routine, Amel was completely exhausted, yet her face held a warm, contented smile.

Her dimples—exactly like their daughter’s—were now on full display.

Kyle felt an overwhelming surge of happiness, like sunlight bursting through the sky.

“Ahh…”

“So two sets of dimples mean double the happiness.”

“What am I supposed to do with two people this beautiful?”

The thought of sharing these two beloved people with others tonight was almost unbearable.

Not that “others” meant the entire world—just a few close acquaintances.

That evening, a small banquet was scheduled at the Chaield estate.

The purpose? To introduce the growing Eclit Chaield to their closest friends and family.

Among the invited guests were Count and Countess Diane, Vanessa, Amel’s closest companions, and a select few individuals handpicked by Kyle.

“What should I do? Once the world sees how adorable she is, everyone will try to take her away.”

Kyle brooded seriously over this dilemma, pulling both Amel and Eclit into his arms protectively.

If anyone dared lay a hand on his precious wife and daughter…

“Kyle, what does the world preach?”

“Love and peace.”

Once again, Amel swiftly nipped his brewing destruction in the bud.

After a nap, Amel strolled through the estate’s lobby, where preparations for the banquet were well underway.

Then, she noticed something odd.

“Cordelia, there are quite a few unfamiliar faces here.”

Cordelia, who now managed the Chaield estate alongside Hild, offered a kind smile.

“Not long after Lady Eclit’s birth, His Grace ordered us to employ young individuals on the verge of being expelled from orphanages due to age. These new staff members were given a fresh start here at the estate.”

“Kyle did that?”

“It seems the birth of the princess made him reflect deeply on life and love.”

“That’s wonderful. Please take good care of them until they adjust.”

Just as Amel finished speaking, the sharp sound of something shattering echoed through the hall.

Alarmed, she hurried toward the source of the noise, only to be met with an unexpected sight.

A new young employee had accidentally broken one of Chaield’s heirlooms.

“Wait… isn’t that…?”

A golden candelabrum, supposedly handcrafted by the late Duke Chaield two generations ago, lay in ruins.

Fragments of gold littered the floor, the shards having even reached the glass windows. It was clear that the artifact was beyond repair.

The experienced staff, understanding the sheer value of the heirloom, stood frozen in shock, speechless.

The young servant responsible for the accident was trembling, mumbling repeated apologies, her face drained of all color.

Amel frowned at the sight.

“I was clumsy when I had my first part-time job, too.”

If not for the kind shopkeeper who had reassured her back then, her life might have taken a very different course.

Smiling slightly, Amel spoke.

“Cordelia, what is her name?”

“Her name is Lena. She is fifteen years old.”

Amel approached Lena, who was half out of her mind with fear.

The floor was covered in sharp fragments, yet the girl instinctively tried to kneel before her mistress.

“Lena, don’t do that. Are you hurt?”

“I-I’m sorry! I’ve committed an unforgivable mistake! Please, spare my life…!”

“If you’re unhurt, then it’s fine. People make mistakes.”

She gently stroked Lena’s hair before turning to Cordelia.

“Lena must be shaken up. Have her sit down with a warm cup of tea. We still have plenty of time before the banquet, so we can make up for the lost preparations.”

“But, my lady, the candelabrum—”

At that moment, Kyle arrived at the scene, having heard the commotion.

Lena’s face turned ashen.

Amel smiled reassuringly at her before stepping forward.

“What happened?”

Kyle’s voice was cold, his tone sharp enough to send a chill through the gathered servants.

After all, Kylian Chaield did not tolerate mistakes.

He had no hesitation in disciplining those who failed him—whether through stern rebukes or, in some cases, dismissal.

“I’m sorry, Kyle… I was walking through the hall and accidentally knocked over the candelabrum.”

“The candelabrum is at fault.”

…However, when it came to his wife, Kyle was endlessly forgiving.

People made mistakes. That was only natural.

“Amel, are you hurt?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize for something so trivial. It was my fault for not relocating the candelabrum sooner.”

Besides, if Amel was asking him to handle it, it meant she was relying on him.

That alone was enough to make his heart swell with pride.

“Of course. I am now both a husband and a father.”

Thinking of the love they had created together, Kyle couldn’t help but smile.

Every time Amel looked at him with those pleading eyes, asking for help, he was convinced that all the immense wealth and power of the Chaield Duchy existed solely for this moment.

Kyle had once disdained material wealth for its corrupting nature.

But ever since Amel had confessed to liking money, he had started considering his past beliefs as mere insignificant feelings.

“I’m really sorry, Kyle. I heard it was made by your grandfather…”

“The late duke? I never even met him. We probably wouldn’t have gotten along, anyway.”

Kyle swiftly betrayed his ancestor without hesitation.

At that moment, all he could think was—he envied that candelabrum.

Because every time Amel passed through this hallway, she would remember it.

“More importantly, I need to check if you have any cuts from the shards.”

With that, he shamelessly scooped Amel into his arms.

He had to take her back to their chambers.

There, he would thoroughly examine her fair ankles for any signs of injury.

Shards, by nature, were unpredictable in their trajectory.

With that in mind, Kyle was determined to meticulously check his wife’s skin for any scratches. There was still plenty of time before the guests arrived.

After the duke and duchess left the hall, the more seasoned staff members exchanged knowing glances.

Kyle’s drastic change in demeanor was expected.

“As expected of the lady…”

“I was wondering where the young lady got her gentle nature from.”

It was obvious.

After all, the one at fault was none other than his beloved wife.

The banquet progressed smoothly, and soon, the most anticipated moment arrived.

Just as the guests were finishing their dessert, Amel and Kyle descended the stairs, holding their daughter, swaddled snugly in a soft blanket.

Eclit’s tiny face peeked out, earning murmurs of admiration from all in attendance.

“Oh my… she’s as precious as a little fairy!”

“She looks just like His Grace when she’s quiet, but the moment she smiles, she’s a perfect copy of the lady.”

Kyle subtly radiated a silent warning: Look, but do not touch.

As a result, most guests simply waved timidly from afar.

That was, until two powerful arms suddenly reached forward.

“Eclit, wouldn’t you like to be held by your grandfather?”

Count Diane had already melted completely under his granddaughter’s smiling eyes.

Kyle, however, clutched Eclit tightly, reluctant to let her go.

“Kyah—!”

But the moment Eclit’s eyes sparkled at the sight of her grandfather, Kyle’s face twisted into a bitter smile.

“She’s too clever, just like Amel. She already recognizes her grandfather.”

With no choice but to concede, Kyle passed his daughter into the count’s waiting arms.

Eclit let out a contented giggle, seemingly pleased by the broad embrace.

Loyal steward Hild chuckled and, in a moment of complete miscalculation, uttered words that should have never been spoken.

“It appears the young lady is far more comfortable in Count Diane’s arms.”

“…?”

Kyle’s sharp gaze immediately honed in on Hild.

Far more comfortable?

Did that mean she had been less comfortable in his arms just moments ago?

Stealing a glance at his father-in-law, Kyle found him wearing the triumphant smirk of a victor.

He could tolerate being called an overly affectionate son-in-law, but a subpar father? Unacceptable.

“Eclit, shall we look at Daddy?”

Speaking in his most affectionate voice, Kyle covered his face with both hands.

Then, in a bright and cheerful tone, he spread his fingers wide.

“Peekaboo!”

The guests were stunned.

The once-feared Monster Duke was now acting like a playful fool.

Locking eyes with Kyle, Count Diane’s competitive instincts flared.

“Your Grace, I hesitate to inform you, but I have already successfully raised Amel.”

What he meant was clear: With my experience, you stand no chance.

To drive the point home, the count revealed his secret weapon.

A tiny rattle.

Jingle!

At the crisp, pleasant sound, Eclit widened her round eyes.

With a smug flick of the wrist, Count Diane shook the rattle once more.

“Count Diane, that’s…”

“This is Amel’s favorite rattle from when she was a baby. A rare item that only I possess.”

Kyle gritted his teeth.

Meanwhile, Eclit—completely unaware of her father’s inner turmoil—was utterly captivated by the rattle.

On top of that, her grandfather’s embrace somehow seemed even more spacious than usual.

“My sweet granddaughter, would you like to see this too?”

“Oooh—!”

Like magic, more toys appeared from Count Diane’s arms, each more enticing than the last.

A custom-tailored gift barrage.

Kyle could accept losing in many areas—but not when it came to overwhelming resources.

Flashing a dazzling smile, he leaned in toward his daughter, presenting her with what was, objectively, a masterpiece of a face.

Even to a baby’s underdeveloped eyesight, it was a sight to behold.

“Eclit, is there anything you want? Daddy will give you anything you ask for.”

Anything.

So don’t fall for such petty tricks.

But completely oblivious to her father’s desperation, Eclit merely continued her babbling.

“Taa!”

Kyle’s reaction was immediate.

“Land?”

“Gaaa!”

“A river as well?”

“Guuuu!”

“A palace, too?”

With each babble, Kyle’s grin grew wider as he enthusiastically took note of his daughter’s “requests.”

“Land and a river…”

“The Chaield family is truly something else…”

The rest of the room, having lost the will to compete, quietly surrendered to the Chaield-style gift-giving standards.

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