If You Feel Good Being Treated Like a Kid, That’s What’s Strange
Anette noticed that Kardin was hesitating.
She found it strange and instantly regretted bringing it up.
‘I should’ve just said I wasn’t thinking about anything.’
What kind of fiancée asks if beast parts sell for a high price?
It’s not like she was trying to show off that she used to be a knight who hunted magical beasts.
Anette worried she might have come off as materialistic, or worse, ignorant. She blamed herself, thinking she only mentioned it because she’d been reminded of her old subordinates.
Her old subordinates… no, the people who used to be her subordinates probably didn’t even think about her now that she was retired.
‘No, they’d probably be happily gossiping about how relieved they are I’m gone.’
Now that she was no longer the commander, the king wouldn’t reject the knights’ budget requests anymore, and the overall situation would improve for them.
Besides, the newly appointed commander, Zeon Millard, was a steady and well-respected man. He would do a fine job leading the order, and everything would turn out for the better.
‘Yes, it’s all for the best.’
She felt a tinge of regret that she wouldn’t get to see it with her own eyes, but just as they had stopped caring about her, Anette no longer needed to pay them any mind either.
The person she should be concerned with right now was…
“The soup seems to have cooled down to the right temperature.”
The duke, who had been fiddling with her bowl of food during the awkward silence, spoke.
“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”
Trying to lift the mood, Anette reached out with both hands in a bright voice.
But Kardin didn’t hand over the bowl so easily.
“I’ll feed you. Ah, open up.”
“…Huh?”
“No, a little wider than that.”
Anette blinked slowly at the playful tone in his voice.
“Princess?”
“Haa…”
She let out an involuntary sigh and covered her face with both hands.
She really wished he’d stop calling her “princess.”
At the very least, he could stop saying it in front of other people.
Didn’t the duke notice how all the knights flinched whenever he said “princess”?
And the curious stares that followed—it was like a free show.
Though Anette found it uncomfortable, she never told Kardin to stop.
It was a little embarrassing, sure, but not incorrect. More than that…
‘He’s definitely going to tease me if I do!’
She’d figured Kardin out pretty well in just one day.
If she told him not to call her princess, he’d just tease her more—asking why not, if it embarrassed her—and end up calling her “princess, princess” even more often.
It was better to put up with the teasing now, while it was still relatively harmless.
But even with that understanding, it didn’t feel good.
Maybe it was because she knew for certain that they didn’t look like a couple at all.
‘We probably look more like a father and daughter.’
With Kardin wearing a mask, only his broad frame was visible—it made the comparison all the more obvious.
And his demeanor seemed more like a dad doting on his little girl.
‘But why does that bother me so much…?’
No, actually.
It should bother her.
‘I’m not a kid. I’m an adult! It would be weird to feel good being treated like a child!’
With that perfectly reasonable justification, Anette nodded firmly to herself and spoke up.
“Your Grace, I can feed myself.”
She didn’t bother adding that her body was the only thing that looked young—her mind was fully adult.
‘Because he’ll just smirk and say, “I know.”’
“I know. I just want to feed you.”
“….”
She hadn’t expected that.
Anette instinctively pressed her lips shut. Her cheeks burned.
‘Should I get a mask too…?’
She wasn’t bold enough to rip off Kardin’s mask, so she contemplated covering her own face instead. Just then, Kardin spoke again with a soft urgency.
“Come on. It’ll get cold. Everyone worked hard making this for you…”
Are you going to ignore their sincerity?
Under the weight of his expectant gaze, Anette finally shut her eyes tight and opened her mouth.
“Ah.”
As soon as she did, warm food entered her mouth. She swallowed it without opening her eyes.
She didn’t notice it—because she hadn’t held the spoon herself—but the one Kardin was using was a child’s spoon, likely brought all the way from the far-off ducal estate.
“How is it?”
“…It’s delicious.”
Anette forced herself to answer, suppressing her embarrassment out of consideration for those who’d cooked it.
The soup was indeed good—nicely cooked potatoes, large chunks of meat, and a balanced, savory flavor.
Even the temperature Kardin had cooled it to was just right.
Only her face felt way too hot.
“We’re grilling some meat too, so eat a lot.”
“…Okay.”
Kardin watched Anette, who obediently opened her mouth and ate everything, with eyes full of affection and pride.
Just watching her eat made him feel full.
Her lips chewing the bread soaked in soup looked so cute, he couldn’t help himself—he reached out and patted her head.
As the warm hand gently brushed her hair, Anette’s eyes widened.
Kardin realized too late that he might have made a mistake—but he didn’t take his hand away.
Instead, he shamelessly said:
“I’ve been thinking this for a while, but today I feel especially confident.”
“…About what?”
“I think… when we have a child someday, I’ll be a really good parent.”
“…!”
Anette froze.
She had tried to act like nothing was wrong despite the sudden touch, but this—this was too much.
Kardin, oblivious, smiled proudly and added that when she cried and fell asleep in his arms earlier, she had looked so peaceful—it boosted his confidence.
And finally—
“Princess, if you can’t sleep tonight, let me know. I’ll carry you on my back and—ouch! Ow!”
Anette, her small fists clenched tightly, smacked his arm hard.
Thwack! Thwack! Every time she hit him, Kardin cried out in exaggerated pain and put down the bowl to clutch his arm.
“Why, Princess?”
He asked in confusion, but Anette was already marching toward the carriage.
Her face was red—almost the same color as her hair.
None of the onlookers moved to stop her. They just froze as she slammed the carriage door shut.
BANG!
“…Huh?”
Kardin stood dazed for a moment, then stood up in a panic.
“Why is she mad?”
“You don’t know?”
Samuel, his aide, came running over.
Kardin looked serious.
“Was I too much?”
“To be honest, yes. It was more than ‘too much.’”
Samuel was usually precise with his words, but today he seemed unusually bold.
Kardin narrowed his eyes and asked,
“…Then what?”
Love changes a person.
Normally, Kardin would never ask for Samuel’s opinion. But since Anette had stormed off, he figured it was worth hearing him out.
Feeling honored by the question, Samuel lifted his chin and declared confidently:
“Your Grace, you came off like a total pervert!”
SCREECH. Kardin’s head whipped toward the carriage awkwardly.
“…What did you just say?”
“You looked like the biggest pervert on earth! Talking about having kids with someone who looks like a literal child?! No wonder Her Highness ran off with that disgusted look!”
“…!”
Kardin stood frozen in horror.
He had noticed that Anette was shy and easily flustered. That’s why he’d been extra affectionate—so she would warm up to him faster.
He figured she’d gotten mad because she was embarrassed, or because he was moving too fast.
He hadn’t realized how his actions might be misunderstood…
“I have to clear this up.”
Kardin immediately ran toward the carriage, while Samuel clicked his tongue and shouted after him,
“You wouldn’t know a woman’s delicate heart even if it hit you in the face. Don’t worry—I’ll help you with your love life from now on!”
Oddly enough, hearing that made Kardin feel a bit more hopeful.
But what he didn’t know was that, despite being competent in nearly every area, Samuel was terrible at romance.
‘Oh god, I’ve gone mad!’
Inside the carriage, Anette clutched her mouth with both hands, her face red from her cheeks to her ears and neck—like a perfectly ripe tomato.
Even though she tried to breathe quietly, her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest.
<When we have a child someday, I think I’ll be a really good parent.>
A child.
Our child.
She hadn’t misheard it.
Even though Kardin had already asked her to be committed to their marriage, it wasn’t until that moment that she truly felt the weight of it all.
‘…We’re really going to be a married couple who’ll one day have a child together.’
And somehow, that made her feel like maybe—just maybe—he didn’t see her as a child after all.
And that realization made all her earlier resentment about being treated like one disappear completely.