Chapter 417: The Great Lord Also Has a Daily Life (4)

Putting aside the heavy karma, I finally opened my mouth.

“…I’ll try my best.”

It was unfortunate for Elizabeth, but I couldn’t give a definite answer that her turn would come today.

No matter how important the order was, obligatory expressions of affection seemed strange. Even I think it’s a crazy idea to quickly deal with the second, third, and fourth because the fifth is waiting. Even a supermarket close to closing time doesn’t have such a clearance sale.

Moreover, it’s disrespectful to the other person to force a high-intensity expression of affection on them without setting the mood. Even I, with only Hecate as my romantic experience throughout my pre- and post-possession life, understand the importance of atmosphere.

“Now that the Executive Manager is here, I have to go back! Then I won’t see you until the vacation!”

As I avoided giving a definite answer, Elizabeth protested with her lips pouted, as if she felt wronged. It was such a desperate and persuasive protest that I couldn’t refute it at all.

“If it’s like this, then I’ll drop my age! I’ll re-register my birth and be 18 too! Then I can stay at the Academy, right?”

“No, it’s not like I became a civil servant because I was old…”

Eventually, Elizabeth started throwing a tantrum that made the listeners embarrassed, lying on the floor and flailing. It was so bad that even Mar, who had been in my arms, slowly got up and distanced herself from Elizabeth.

That desperate struggle continued until Beatrix finished her class and arrived.

It was truly a pitiful sight.

Elizabeth, who had been struggling on the floor, nestled in Beatrix’s arms and complained.

“Unnie, you were in the capital last year too, so you understand how I feel, right?”

“Of course, I understand.”

Beatrix answered in a gentle voice as if soothing a child while patting Elizabeth.

I feel like I’m losing my mind. We call Louise a pink capybara, but isn’t she the real capybara? After the dignified Empress and the quiet Penelia, now she’s even made friends with a duke who’s reigned for 100 years. It’s not the friendliness of an ordinary human.

Of course, my other lovers have also become close to Beatrix, but Elizabeth is the only one who’s broken down the wall to this extent.

“But baby, you must be uneasy too. Is baby the type to discriminate against us?”

As I was blankly watching the white capybara, I was moved by Beatrix’s words.

Beatrix is right. I’ve been silently, alone, trying not to discriminate against any of the six. Thinking that someone recognizes that effort made me feel like crying.

You feel the same way too, huh.

I unconsciously looked down at my hand. The pitifully shining half-ring seemed to be pleading that it felt the same way.

I’ve forced many sacrifices on you for a discrimination-free romance… I’m truly sorry…

“So try to understand. As much as you feel upset now, you’ll be that much happier when the vacation comes.”

At that, Elizabeth, who had buried her face in Beatrix’s chest, slowly raised her head. Then, she looked at me with sparkling eyes.

I couldn’t help but smile. It was a look that made me think I knew what she was thinking. She probably wants me to confirm that what Beatrix said is true.

“Let’s stay together in the office when I return to the capital.”

So, I gave it to her. Saying that would make me want to die if we were in a pure superior-subordinate relationship, but considering we’re lovers, it’s just a shy confession saying, ‘I’ll spend a lot of time with you during the vacation.’

“You mean we’ll work overtime every day, right? I’m looking forward to it!”

Thanks to that, Elizabeth giggled and joked back.

I instinctively shuddered at the mention of overtime, but it must be a joke anyway.

…It is a joke, right?

Seeing Eli still laughing in my arms, I found myself smiling without realizing it.

She was the child who approached first among the five girls who were wary of me, and the one whose nickname Eli has become more familiar than her full name, Elizabeth.

And although she has a lively and unique worldview—she’s surprisingly thoughtful and considerate, a precious child.

She could be jealous.

She’s really precious. I’m fortunate to be second, but this child became fifth despite meeting and being close to baby earlier than anyone else. Although baby isn’t the type to discriminate based on order, in cases like now where order matters, she inevitably suffers a non-injury injury.

In fact, from Eli’s perspective, she could feel wronged and angry. Louise and Irina met baby later than her, after all.

Nevertheless, Eli didn’t show any complaints. She throws tantrums like this, but it’s just to get baby’s attention; she’s never shown anger or negative emotions towards the other girls.

“Unnie?”

Ah.

Before I knew it, my hand was stroking Eli’s hair. It seems I acted on my thoughts of how precious she is.

“Your hair feels nice. It’s so soft that I touched it without realizing.”

“Right? I take care of it every day!”

I was momentarily flustered and quickly made an excuse, but Eli seemed to like what I said, grinning and shrugging her shoulders.

That’s a relief. Even if Eli doesn’t show jealousy, it would be cruel to say, ‘Even the children who met baby later than you are ahead of you, but you’re not angry and that’s admirable.’

I’d have to accept it humbly if she heard those words and pulled my hair out.

“I might not be as good as unnie, but among my peers—“

Eli, who had been excitedly continuing her words, closed her mouth with a look of realization.

It’s probably Eli’s own form of consideration. She usually tries not to bring up age in front of me, so she’s probably worried that I might feel bitter about her mentioning peers just now.

But this kind of reaction hurts more. It would be better to continue the conversation naturally; cutting off like this makes it too obvious that she’s watching my reaction.

An elf’s age is just a number.

I feel a bit hurt. Because I’m mixed-blood, I can’t apply just 10% of my age like my mother, but it should be about 20%. By that calculation, I could be considered Eli’s peer.

But I didn’t bother to argue. I still can’t forget the expression baby made a few months ago at my maternal grandmother’s house when I mentioned that my age is 20% of an elf’s age. He tried to look calm, but it was clearly the expression of an outsider experiencing culture shock.

…Well, what does age matter? It’s not like I lied about my real age to approach these children.

“Ah, come to think of it, Executive Manager! You’ve agreed to speak comfortably with Mar now, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Eventually, Eli, who had been fidgeting, suddenly turned her gaze towards baby.

“Then, while we’re at it, speak comfortably with unnie too!”

At those words, I tilted my head.

Speak comfortably? Baby and I are already speaking comfortably—

“It’s strange to call each other baby, isn’t it? What will you do when your own baby is born?!”

What…?

Elizabeth, who had mentioned age in front of Beatrix, expressed her embarrassment with her whole body, then suddenly turned the topic to me. Her desperate struggle for survival was so pitiful it was heartbreaking.

“It’s strange to call each other baby, isn’t it? What will you do when your own baby is born?!”

Oh.

But it was quite a good change of subject.

That’s true.

She’s right. Sorting out how to address Beatrix is something I need to do eventually. After I got angry at Beatrix and then reconciled, I did say it would be better to change from ‘baby’ to something else.

At that time, I also brought up the pretext of doing it for the sake of future children, just like Elizabeth. Unfortunately, it was put on hold because we couldn’t find a suitable alternative.

And based on past experience, I can’t guarantee how long it would take to revisit an issue that’s been vaguely put on hold. At this rate, I might still be called baby even after marriage, and if we have a child, they might end up with a fetal name like ‘little baby’. It’s a horrifying thought.

It would be better to decide now.

As I glanced to the side, I could see Beatrix blinking with a blank face.

Yes, now’s the time. Now that I’m speaking informally to Mar and the romantic act of kissing has been unlocked, it’s the perfect timing. If we fail to adjust the form of address even with this momentum, there won’t be another chance.

“I think Elizabeth is right. What do you think, Beatrix?”

“Uh, um?”

At my question, Beatrix flinched and started flapping her ears.

At least it’s not a reluctant reaction. Beatrix probably just got used to calling me baby. It’s not like she’s particularly attached to the term.

“If we have only one child between us, it might be okay to call them ‘little baby’, but having just one seems a bit… For the sake of the Catoban ducal family, we should have as many as possible.”

At those words, Beatrix’s ears flapped even faster. It’s as if she’s already imagining three little quarter-elves running around in the garden.

To be honest, I imagined it too.

…No.

That’s why my sense of responsibility as a (future) head of the family surged. We can’t give those cute children names like Little Baby No. 1, No. 2, No. 3.

“Since we’ll be married soon, a more equal and softer form of address would be better.”

“Y-Yes. That’s right.”

Beatrix nodded as if entranced, and Elizabeth, nestled in her arms, let out a sigh of relief.

When our eyes met, Elizabeth raised the corners of her mouth and nodded. Although it was a topic change to save herself, it was a gesture asking for praise for providing an opportunity to correct the form of address.

Of course, instead of praise, I sent her a firm look telling her to come out instead of staying there. It’s unsettling to have Elizabeth, with her white hair, in Beatrix’s arms while thinking about children.

“Um, then…”

Right after Elizabeth obediently came out with her lips pouted, Beatrix, whose face had reddened, cautiously opened her mouth.

“As I mentioned before, how about ‘my lord’?”

“My lord?”

I almost burst out laughing. That’s a term that came up before, but I pretended not to hear it because it was too archaic.

“That’s—“

“My maternal grandmother used to call my maternal grandfather ‘my lord’. My mother did too when she was alive, and I like the term ‘my lord’, so it seems like an elven tradition or instinct.”

“How romantic.”

Seeing Beatrix smiling shyly, I quickly corrected what I was about to say. If I had been a little faster, it would have been a species-wide faux pas.

…What should I do?

This is troublesome. After hearing words like that, it would have to be a grand title that Beatrix would find convincing to convince her and insist on a different form of address.

But honestly, nothing like that comes to mind. Just ‘husband’ or ‘honey’ might be okay, but I don’t know anything beyond that.

Should we go with ‘my lord’…?

A common form of address versus one used by her great-grandmother and mother. If I have to choose between the two, the latter has an overwhelmingly strong justification.

Swallowing nervously, I glanced around. Hoping that maybe Mar or Elizabeth might help me out.

No one.

Unfortunately, there was no one. Both Mar and Elizabeth quietly looked away when our eyes met.

It seems this is a battle I’ll have to fight alone.