Garling muttered to himself again.
"It's only natural that he doesn't recognize me. I truly have been an unworthy father…"
He let out a heavy sigh, his gaze dimming.
Seeing this, Makino quickly spoke up.
"That's not true. Shanks has always wanted to meet you!"
Little Amara seemed to sense her grandfather's sorrow as well. She reached out her tiny hands and began babbling softly.
Garling's heart eased a little as he looked at Amara's adorable face.
Seeing her waving her hands wildly at the air, Garling lowered his head, and Amara immediately latched onto his beard.
Of course, with her little strength, she couldn't possibly hurt him. Instead, her tugging made him laugh. He let her play with his beard as she pleased, and the sight left Makino slightly dazed.
In this moment, Garling was no longer the high-and-mighty Saint Garling, the aloof and commanding figure of immense power. He was simply a doting grandfather who adored his granddaughter.
He played with Amara for a while, and the more time he spent with her, the more he grew fond of her. But then, he suddenly felt a warm sensation on his arm.
"Hm?"
Garling paused, confused at first. But then Makino exclaimed in alarm.
"Oh no! I'm so sorry, Saint Garling—Amara, she…"
Before Makino could finish, Amara's little lips quivered, and she suddenly burst into tears with a loud wail.
Garling immediately panicked. He quickly understood what had happened, but of course he didn't mind. He would never be upset over something like this—not with his precious granddaughter.
He tried hard to recall any baby-care scenes he had ever witnessed, clumsily mimicking the actions of women he'd seen before. Rocking Amara gently in his arms, he softly cooed to her.
"There, there~ Don't cry, Amara~"
Kneeling nearby, Kalifa had her head lowered so far her chin was nearly buried in her chest. Her trembling shoulders gave away how much she was struggling to contain herself.
Makino didn't have the heart to interrupt the tender moment between grandfather and granddaughter. And truth be told, Garling's ability to adapt was astounding. Despite never having cared for a child before, he picked it up quickly—his timing and movement were surprisingly precise. It wasn't long before Amara stopped crying, soothed and content. Even Makino wasn't sure she could've done better herself.
Once Amara had calmed, Garling let out a quiet breath of relief. Then, with a slightly awkward look, he turned to Makino.
"Do you have a diaper with you? We should probably get her changed."
Makino quickly nodded and pulled out a clean white diaper. Garling reached to take it, but Makino gently stopped him.
"Please allow me, Saint Garling."
He didn't argue. He'd never changed a diaper before and didn't want to experiment on his precious granddaughter.
Makino took Amara into her arms, then turned to Kalifa.
"Kalifa, could you hold Amara for a moment? I need to change her."
Only then did Kalifa dare to rise to her feet. She quickly stepped forward, took Amara into her arms with practiced ease, and held her while Makino deftly changed the diaper.
Garling watched intently, memorizing every step Makino took. He made a mental note: next time, he'd try it himself.
Once Amara was clean and changed, Makino held her again. Her earlier tension had completely vanished. She turned to Garling with a smile.
"Would you like to hold Amara again, Saint Garling?"
Garling was eager to do so, but he shook his head and gestured to the wet stain on his arm.
"Better not. I'll just get her dirty again."
He was already thinking about going back to change clothes so he could hold Amara properly. He said,
"Let's head inside. I've already arranged attendants for you."
With that, Garling led Makino toward the family estate. They had only walked a short distance when Makino noticed Kalifa wasn't following. She turned and called out to her.
"Kalifa, what are you standing there for? Come with us!"
Garling also stopped and looked back at Kalifa.
Under his gaze, Kalifa flinched and waved her hands in panic.
"No, no, I—I don't have the right to enter!"
Makino sighed helplessly and glanced at Garling. He said plainly,
"You've done an excellent job looking after both mother and child. You may come with us."
Only then did Kalifa dare to walk quickly and catch up, entering the Figarland estate alongside Garling and Makino.
…
Along the way, Makino marveled at her surroundings. Compared to this place, those so-called royal palaces were little more than country cottages.
Even Kalifa, who had heard tales of the Celestial Dragons' opulence, was slightly stunned. Not even the homes of typical Celestial Dragons could compare to this estate.
As they approached a courtyard, Makino saw a row of young maids waiting outside the entrance.
The maids were youthful and beautiful, dressed in identical uniforms, and lined up neatly at the gate. As the three approached, the maids dropped to their knees in perfect unison and cried out:
"Welcome home, Lady Makino! Welcome home, Lady Amara!"
They might have been young women, but their voices were clear and powerful. Kalifa was once again impressed—this was the true prestige of the world's most powerful family.
She even recognized a few familiar faces among the maids—some she had seen back in the CP organization. You couldn't find maids of this caliber anywhere else in the world.
It was Makino's first time witnessing such a grand scene, and she stood frozen in place. She looked at Kalifa behind her and whispered,
"Kalifa… they just called me Lady Makino…"
Kalifa smiled and nodded.
"It's only natural. A mother gains status through her child."
Just then, Amara burst into giggles in Makino's arms. Far from being scared by the loud voices, she happily waved her little pale fists in the air.
Garling turned to see her reaction and nodded approvingly.
"As expected of the Figarland bloodline."
He couldn't help but think back to Shanks when he was a baby—always smiling, just like Amara.
Even when they had placed him in that small box all those years ago, that kid had been smiling.
As the memory surfaced, Garling's expression grew a little complicated.
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+140 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg