If You Leave Without a Word - Chapter 253

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

In particular, the reddish-brown hair and blue eyes were so exactly like Cain’s that it would be no exaggeration to say the child looked just like him, only smaller.

That’s why it was funny to hear Charlotte insist the baby looked just like Agatha as a child.

Unable to hold back a laugh, Agatha smiled. Charlotte, seizing the moment, laughed louder and said, “See? Isn’t he just the spitting image of the young master?”

She tickled the baby’s cheek, making him giggle, then lifted him up to face Agatha and urged the other maids to agree with her.

Charlotte’s playful insistence only made Agatha laugh harder, and soon Liana and the other servants joined in. To think there was a little life so lovable that just looking at him made her heart flutter.

Agatha realized she hadn’t laughed this much since she was nine years old. The unexpected arrival of this child had brought far more positive change to her life than she ever could have imagined.

They were all still chatting and laughing together when Agatha happened to glance toward the door and spotted the tall figure standing outside—it was Cain.

“You can come in, if you’d like.”

Cain had been hovering in the doorway this entire time, looking so awkward that it was almost painful to watch. He hardly looked like the master of this grand house.

Once Agatha gave her permission, Cain finally stepped inside, though his gaze was still uneasy.

It was obvious—he was drawn to this tiny, precious child who looked so much like himself, but at the same time, he seemed unsure if he had the right to come any closer.

Even as the baby’s hundredth day approached, Cain had continued like this.

He was clearly dying to get a better look at his son, but every time their eyes met, he’d glance away as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t. If the baby started crying, Cain would freeze, unable to do anything, before finally slipping out of the room.

To the servants, it probably looked as if he was a cold, indifferent father, never once holding his own child. Liana had even whispered to Agatha, “I don’t think the Marquis has ever held the little master, not even once.”

But Agatha could see the tenderness and longing in his eyes. He wasn’t staying away because he didn’t care; he simply didn’t know how to draw close.

As Cain cautiously approached Agatha, Charlotte gave a signal to the maids to leave the two of them alone, hoping to give the father a chance to bond with his child.

“…He looks so much like you.”

Cain finally said after a long moment, clearly having listened in on their conversation from the hallway and pondering what to say.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know… If you ask me, he takes after you much more. Doesn’t everyone say so?”

“…Oh.”

The baby, lying in his crib, gazed up at his father’s face. Whether he recognized him or was just fascinated by the ceiling pattern, it was impossible to tell—but just the fact that the child was looking his way seemed to leave Cain completely flustered.

He couldn’t even answer Agatha’s gentle teasing.

Was this really the same man known as the Knight of Blood and Ice? Agatha glanced at Cain’s profile, noticing how his ears had turned red with embarrassment, making him look every bit the shy, awkward boy.

He was such a mystery. On the outside, he was a cold, ruthless knight, but in moments like these, he was as bashful as a teenager.

“He really takes after me?”

Cain muttered to himself, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Agatha blinked at him, wondering if he was truly uncertain or just didn’t know what to say.

“Just look at his reddish-brown hair. That’s much more your color than mine.”

“…His hair…”

“Traditionally, the first child always resembles the father most.”

Charlotte chimed in, unable to keep quiet any longer.

“Would you like to hold the young master?”

“Me? Hold him?”

Cain’s reaction was the most animated she’d seen all evening. He even took a step back, startled by Charlotte’s determination.

“You really haven’t held your own son yet…”

Charlotte with a gentle tone but tinged with reproach.

“A father really should hold his child at least once, don’t you think?”

Cain stood there, unable to reply, so Charlotte looked to Agatha for approval before gently picking up the baby and moving closer to Cain.

“I… I don’t know how to hold a baby.”

Cain’s face grew pale as Charlotte approached with the child in her arms.

“It’s easy. Just support his head and neck with one arm, and hold his back with the other…”

This time, Charlotte was quicker than Cain’s instinct to retreat, and before he knew it, the baby was resting in his arms. He didn’t dare protest further for fear he might drop the child.

Agatha quietly watched Charlotte’s instructions. Now that she thought about it, Cain really had never held the baby before. He barely even came close, always shying away as if he might do something wrong.