As the three women discussed how they would care for the child in the future, Albert, being a qualified father, naturally sat quietly and listened. Even the house-elf temporarily put aside his work and sat nearby, listening attentively. Perhaps in the near future, he would have the additional task of caring for the little master.
"Mom, were you like this back then too?" Katrina asked curiously.
"How could I have had such good fortune? When I gave birth to Isabelle, I was truly overwhelmed. How could I have been as happy as you are now, with someone patiently teaching you all these things?" Mrs. McDougal said softly with a sigh.
Similar conversations had been frequent lately. Mrs. McDougal was quite willing to teach the young couple how to care for a child.
After the half-hour lesson ended, the house-elf silently returned to the kitchen to prepare lunch.
The three of them remained in the sunroom, chatting about trivial matters. From time to time, Albert also heard Mrs. McDougal recount some embarrassing stories about the sisters' childhood.
Most of the time, he played the role of listener very well.
"She's kicking me again. Such a naughty child." Isabelle stroked her belly through her clothes, the maternal glow on her face becoming ever more apparent.
"Let me listen."
Albert gently pressed his ear against it, but there was nothing.
No, there was something—but it was not Isabelle's stomach. It was his palm. Just then, Albert felt a needle-like sting on the back of his hand. Some red lines resembling blood vessels surfaced along his arm, then vanished again.
An inexplicable feeling rose in his heart.
The contract had been triggered.
"What's wrong?"
Isabelle keenly noticed the change in Albert.
"Nothing."
Albert returned to his seat, picked up an apple from the table,