Why The Maid Inherited The Duke's Legacy- Chapter 10
<10> I Could Give You Anything You Want
Earlier, after bringing Ranelli to his study, Arad had smiled faintly and ordered Hampton:
"Tell Ivnia I have the child. She should come here when she’s finished."
"Yes, my lord."
Once alone, Arad studied Ranelli, who had gone unnaturally quiet.
‘Her father.’
Hartland’s words—You’re not her father either—had sparked an image in his mind: this child calling him Father. To be her father would mean being Ivnia’s husband. He sat her on the sofa and met her eyes.
"What’s your name?"
Ranelli, still shaken from watching Hartland get dragged away, blinked rapidly, fighting tears. Her voice was small and stifled.
"...H-Hartland... said he’d take me... to Mommy..."
"What was that?"
*Sniff.*
Ranelli hunched further, watching Arad warily. Her lips trembled, her chin wrinkling.
*"H-Hic... Waaah!"*
The dam broke. She resented Arad for chasing away Hartland, who’d been kind to her. And hadn’t Arad been cruel to Mommy before? Stay away from bad people—yet here she was, taken by the worst one.
"Why are you crying?"
Arad frowned, tilting his head. To Ranelli, his expression looked scary, but it was merely baffled. He had no experience with children. This was his first time being so close to one so young. In his mind, children were like docile dolls—obedient, fragile, devoid of will. Hadn’t he been the same? Not that he remembered clearly.
"Are you scared? Or is there something you dislike?"
When she kept crying instead of answering, he tried reasoning with her.
"Use your words. How else will I know what you want?"
His crossed arms and blunt tone were too alien and imposing for a child. But Arad was oblivious to how he came across.
"Are you crying because you want Ivnia?"
At her mother’s name, Ranelli paused mid-sob and finally looked at him.
"...Mommy?"
Encouraged, Arad softened slightly.
"I’ll take you to Ivnia after we talk. No—she’ll come soon. I sent word that you’re here."
He didn’t realize that a frightened child couldn’t be reasoned with. To Ranelli, talking was irrelevant—she just wanted her mother.
"I wanna go to Mommy now!"
"I told you. Ivnia will come when it’s time."
To her, that was a refusal. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes. Seeing her on the verge of another meltdown, Arad grew flustered. When had anyone last made him this tense? He was used to unnerving others—not the reverse.
"Stop crying."
"Wuuuh..."
"I said stop. Why won’t you stop?"
"Waaah!"
"If you dislike my terms, we can adjust them."
"Hwaaang!"
"Hampton! Are you there, Hampton?!"
When Ranelli fully wailed, Arad desperately called for the butler. No response. He checked the hallway twice before spotting Hampton on the stairs and beckoning him urgently.
"Come here."
"What’s the matter?"
"The child won’t stop crying. There must be something wrong. Fetch a doctor."
"Let me try first."
Skeptical, Arad watched. If he couldn’t calm her, how could Hampton—
"...Thank you, mister!"
She stopped? Arad stared, dumbfounded, as Ranelli accepted candy from the butler, sniffling gratefully. Hampton knelt, patting her back and wiping her tears, murmuring kindly—and like magic, the crying ceased.
"How did you do that?"
"I promised we’d take her to Ivnia soon."
Arad gave him an incredulous look.
"I said the same thing."
Hampton couldn’t bring himself to instruct his master to smile or soften his tone.
"Did you offer her food? Children adore sweets."
It wasn’t a lie.
"I see."
Enlightened, Arad clapped Hampton’s shoulder. A truly competent butler. Now that he had a strategy, he ordered Hampton to fetch cookies and treats in absurd quantities—despite the butler’s protests.
"That much isn’t necessary—"
"I’ll decide that."
"...As you wish."
If persuasion was the goal, one had to commit. For someone swayed by gifts, overwhelming them was the simplest method. Soon, Arad’s study overflowed with desserts: delicate finger cakes adorned with fruit and cream, raspberry mille-feuille, jam tarts, crumpets, and chocolate-chip cookies.
To Ranelli, it was a fantasy. She’d never seen such a spread. Wide-eyed, she gaped at the bounty. Arad inwardly cheered.
‘Too easy.’
That something so trivial could lift her mood. Smug, he gestured grandly.
"Eat as much as you want. Ask if you crave more."
Ranelli blinked up at him. With each plate offered, her wariness crumbled.
"All this... for me?"
Mouth stuffed with cookies, she chewed blissfully. The flavors—sweet, tangy, buttery—were revelations. Fluffy cakes! Crispy pastries! What was this cloud-like cream? Overwhelmed, she clutched her head, giggling. Amused, Arad chuckled.
"You like it? I can have these made whenever you wish."
"Really?"
"Of course. This is nothing. I could give you anything you want. Is there something?"
He hoped she’d ask to help her poor family or to make Ivnia happy. Or better—to beg Ivnia to seek his aid. Having tasted luxury, wouldn’t she cling to it? If she threw a tantrum for Ivnia, even that stubborn woman would relent. Mimicking Hampton, he crouched to her level, smiling gently.
"I could give you anything you want. It’s no trouble for me."
Ranelli, cheeks bulging with cake, stared at him.
"Why are you being so nice?"
"Like I said—it’s easy for me."
Her eyes wavered with confusion.
"Really...?"
"Yes. Tell me what you want."
Ranelli recalled Ivnia’s words:
[Ranelli knows kindness matters, but the Duke hasn’t learned yet. Still, he let us stay—so he must be kind inside.]
[Then why does he act the opposite?]
[Adults hide their true feelings. It takes courage to be honest, and courage fades with age.]
She studied Arad’s past actions.
‘Maybe he didn’t mean to bully Hartland.’
Had he wanted to play? Her village friend Charles had pulled her hair for the same reason. She’d scolded him—If you want to play, be nice!—and he’d eventually apologized. Wasn’t Arad similar? First scary, now offering treats...
‘Mommy said to be forgiving.’
After a moment’s thought, she nodded solemnly. She’d accept his effort.
"Well... then..."
Climbing onto the sofa, she leaned toward Arad, indicating a secret. Hesitant, he stiffly bent down. Ranelli’s innocence was disarming. She whispered into his ear. His face twisted oddly.
"What?"
"You said anything."
Arad barked a laugh. Flustered, he sighed and ordered Hampton to fetch something. The butler mirrored his baffled expression.
"Can you do it?"
Arad shrugged.
"Who knows?"
Hampton soon returned with the requested item. Arad and Ranelli huddled together, engrossed in their task. Outside, commotion erupted. Ranelli perked up like a rabbit.
"Mommy?"
Ivnia’s desperate cries echoed down the hall. Arad stood abruptly. He could’ve ordered Hampton to usher her in—but the thought of her seeking him made him move on instinct. As he swung the door open, someone crashed into him.
"Like a moth to flame."
He looked down at Ivnia in his arms. Her weight, her warmth, the coarse wool of her dress—all tangible. Her wide eyes met his, luminous as hydrangeas under moonlight.
For a suspended moment, neither moved. To outsiders, it might’ve seemed a mere pause of surprise. But both felt it—something shifting between them.
"I—I’m sorry."
Ivnia recovered first, pushing away politely but firmly. Arad tightened his grip, unwilling to let go.
Look at me again.
Why had he never noticed how mesmerizing her gaze was? How his reflection in those eyes could enthrall him?
"Ivnia."
***
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