IRMN | 12

Chapter 12

What does he even mean, cold?

Eleanor grumbled under her breath.

“What’s supposed to be cold? It’s fine.”

“Babies can’t regulate their body temperature properly,” Matthias said, crossing his arms and standing crookedly.

“The spring breeze is chilly. Of course you should always put socks on her so she doesn’t catch a cold.”

“It’s not that cold today. And she’s dressed warmly—if I put socks on her too, she’ll be too hot.”

“All health starts from the feet.”

What kind of grandmotherly nonsense is that?

“You really have no basics as a mother.”

Eleanor wanted to plug her ears.
She was so sick of Matthias’s nagging.
Why did humans even have two ears?

And the fact that she had only one free hand while holding a baby—how tragic.

He’s not a watcher; he’s a mother-in-law.
A mother-in-law desperate to torment her new daughter-in-law.

Eleanor had been praised as the Empire’s treasure—a genius.
People had been too busy revering her to even think of meddling.

“Are you listening to me, Mother of the Child?”

But right now, her brilliant career meant nothing.
Here, far from the academy or the capital, she was just a clueless rookie at childcare.

Meanwhile, he was the eldest son from a big family, the veteran of raising five younger siblings.

“…Yes.”

Eleanor answered a beat late.

“All right. I’ll put socks on her, as you say, Your Grace.”

“Don’t put it off—do it right now. Let’s go back to the room.”

Her stomach boiled with irritation, but she knew that if she disobeyed, even worse nagging awaited. So Eleanor reluctantly nodded.

Matthias, who looked like he might actually follow her to confirm she’d done it, turned off instead toward the inn’s back garden.

Once back in the room, Eleanor put socks on the baby.

“Haa…”

She sighed deeply.

“When is the duke even going back to the capital?”

She wished he’d just leave to search for Charlotte already.

She’d already passed him the information—surely he’d sent someone to confirm by now.
But news was slow in coming.

What a leisurely man.

“Is the duchy’s situation still that serious?”

In the original story, the pollution in the ducal lands hadn’t been described in detail.
The duke was only the sub male lead, and the duchy’s pollution had been a minor, side plot at best.

It was only mentioned indirectly much later, when the heroine was kidnapped by him.

I shouldn’t ask about the miasma.
She didn’t want to get entangled any deeper.

Besides, even if she learned about the duchy, there was nothing she could do.
Miasma could only be purified by divine power, after all.

Knock, knock.

Just as Eleanor was letting out another sigh, someone knocked on the door.

When she didn’t answer, a voice followed, impatient:

“It’s me. Open up.”

Eleanor frowned.

She’d thought he’d gone off somewhere, and that was the end of it for today. Guess not.

Barely managing to compose her face, she opened the door.

“Did you come to check personally? If it’s about the socks, I already put—”

Eleanor froze mid-sentence.

There was a faint smell clinging to him—something like burnt paper.

It wasn’t familiar, but she recognized it.
The smell of tobacco smoke.

Right. Come to think of it, the duke was a smoker.

Until now, he’d never come this close, so she hadn’t noticed before.
Usually, his cologne was much stronger than the scent of smoke.

And then, a brilliant idea flashed through her mind.

“Your Grace.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you… a smoker?”

“I am.”

Eleanor nearly cheered internally.
At last—something she could use to drive him off.

She said in a solemn voice, “There’s such a young baby here, and you smoke?”

Matthias flinched.

Fortunately, he wasn’t the kind of inconsiderate person who’d shamelessly say, What’s that got to do with the baby?

Eleanor didn’t miss the chance.

“My goodness, so my baby’s been exposed to secondhand smoke all this time!”

“Hey, Mother of the Child—”

“Yes, exactly. How could a father of a child smoke around his baby? What if her tiny lungs turn black? Will you take responsibility? You already abandoned the mother and child—can you at least take responsibility for her lungs?”

“Why do you suddenly decide to go along with that ‘mother’ act at times like this?”

“Please leave.”

Eleanor stretched out a hand toward him in dismissal.

“I can’t allow a smoker near my baby. It’s for her safety. I’m sure even the experienced father here will agree with that, right?”

“I never smoked directly in front of the baby.”

“But the smell remains.”

“I’ll go brush my teeth.”

“No. Even if you do, harmful substances stay in your body as long as you smoke. The baby’s health is so important, isn’t it? That’s why I endured all the criticism just to make sure she wears socks.”

“…Are you sulking?”

“Why would I be sulking? This is all for the baby’s health.”

And conveniently, it would keep you away from me and my niece.

Eleanor declared proudly, “From now on, please don’t come near the baby. For her sake, stay at least ten meters away.”

“So this is your way of telling me to go back.”

“When did I say that? I’m just worried about the baby’s health. It’s all because of cigarettes. Ci-ga-rettes.”

Breaking the word up teasingly, Eleanor suddenly smiled sweetly.

“Of course, if you quit smoking, you’re welcome to stay.”

“…”

“It’s all for the baby’s sake. You understand, right?”

I win.

Eleanor grinned inwardly.

In the original story, the villainous duke had been a long-time smoker.

Quitting smoking? Impossible. He’ll never manage that.

So what would happen? He’d have to stay away from the baby.

Even if he didn’t leave immediately to search for Charlotte, at least he’d stop hovering and nagging around her.

And if that didn’t work—well, she could always say, What business does a smoker have giving parenting advice? and shut him down.

Eleanor had nothing to lose.

“Please don’t overdo it. I just want Your Grace to feel at ease, body and mind.”

“Ha.”

“It’s stressful to quit suddenly, isn’t it? Just smoke as usual. Just stay ten meters away for the baby’s sake.”

“So you’re certain I can’t quit, huh. And if I do succeed in quitting?”

Please. I’ve read the original—you were always smoking.

Quitting is harder than changing the plot itself.

And you’re going to quit?

Eleanor smiled softly.

“You can say that after you’ve gone at least a month without smoking.”

At that moment, Eleanor had no idea—
Just how completely she had provoked Matthias,
Or how thoroughly she had lit a fire in his heart.

Eleanor didn’t realize one very important thing: Matthias’s decisiveness.

“Hey, Mother of the Child. Look.”

“Yes? What is—”

“This is everything I have right now. I just threw them all in the trash. I don’t have a single cigarette left. Remember that.”

Right before her eyes, he tossed every last one away and declared he was quitting.

An incredible display of resolve.

Of course, that didn’t guarantee success.

Three days after his declaration—

“Ah.”

Eleanor ran into Matthias outside the inn.

He was standing in a corner of the yard, glaring at some plants.

What’s he looking at?

Eleanor tilted her head.

She sneaked a glance—and saw nothing special.

Except that the plant he was glaring at happened to look a lot like a tobacco leaf.