“Father, this child is my ‘maiden of destiny’!”
The conflict between father and son regarding Bertia paused about nine months into her pregnancy—specifically, around the time our second child was born.
With a strong wail, our second child—a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Bertia—came into the world, her cries far more robust than Anzart’s had been.
She sported slightly lighter, reddish hair compared to Bertia’s and possessed heterochromatic eyes, one amber and one blue. Her slightly upturned, cat-like eyes mirrored Bertia’s. If not for that one blue eye, I would question where my genes had gone.
The incident took place right after our delightful daughter was born, during Anzart’s first introduction to her.
“Anzart, meet your little sister!” Bertia, still beaming with joy despite her exhaustion from childbirth, leaned against a cushion, presenting our crying newborn to Anzart.
Anzart appeared quite unhappy. As if competing for our attention wasn’t challenging enough, now there was a new competitor. Being a newborn meant that Bertia would naturally need to focus more on her.
My son, perhaps sensing the competition ahead, couldn’t freely show his annoyance due to his intelligence. Instead, he managed a conflicted smile, torn between his emotions and his understanding.
Seeing Anzart’s strained smile made me finally grasp my father’s feelings. Before I met Bertia, I likely caused my father similar worry. At that time, I believed I was doing what was expected of me, thinking it was the right thing to do. Now, as a parent myself, watching my son reflect my past actions, I felt a pang of regret helplessness.
“My sister… She’s cute,” Anzart said, smiled at the crying baby with a forced expression.
Bertia seemed to notice something was off about Anzart’s demeanor. She tilted her head for a moment but then concluded, “Anzart, are you nervous?”
She misinterpreted his unease as nerves from seeing a baby for the first time. Meanwhile, the baby in Bertia’s arms showed no sign of stopping her wailing. While it was natural for a newborn to cry, the intensity of her crying at the sight of Anzart made me wonder if she had inherited her mother’s lack of awareness.
“Now, Anzart, gently pat your sister!” Bertia, unaware of the room’s tension, encouraged our son, Anzart, who appeared confused and nearly lost his forced smile.
Still, Bertia pressed on, saying, “Don’t be shy, Anzart!” as she took his hand and guided it to the baby’s cheek. As soon as Anzart’s hand made contact, our daughter ceased crying. To our amazement, she grabbed his hand, beaming, and started playfully chewing on it, drooling all over.
“Oh dear, that’s not a snack, you know? That’s your brother’s hand,” Bertia said with a laugh, gently trying to pull Anzart’s hand away.
As soon as she did, the baby began crying loudly again. Startled, Anzart quickly moved his hand back toward her. Our daughter immediately latched onto it again, chewing contentedly with an expression that looked like a drunk person gnawing on dried meat.
Curiosity sparked, and a smile slowly appeared on Anzart’s face. If he could describe his mother’s current expression, it would surely be, “This is intriguing.”
From that point, events unfolded quickly. After calling to Zeno and asking him to use his wind magic to ease the burden, Anzart took his sister from Bertia and held her close. His face radiated pure joy and delight as he proclaimed, “Father, this girl is my ‘maiden of destiny’!!”
“… So, you’ve taken a liking to your sister, have you?”
“Of course! There’s no one else as interesting… I mean, cute and unique as her. This time, I will be the one to monopolize her!! I’ll shower her with all my love!!”
As Anzart embraced his sister firmly, as though promising never to let her go, I began to contemplate the implications of this change. I was pleased that Anzart was focusing on someone other than Bertia, yet the fact that it was his sister raised red flags for me regarding her future.
Clearly, her marriage prospects would be impacted, and it’s possible she might be unable to marry at all… As I envisioned this possible outcome, a notion struck me. Perhaps… there’s no need to fret about that particular issue.
Even though Anzart held her closely and kissed her cheeks and forehead, the girl remained unfazed, eventually dozing off in a state of calm.