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If it had been before the fight, perhaps she would have been swept away by his merger warmth and his shallow tenderness. The lonely Damia would have eventually succumbed to Akkard’s childish and willfully selfish behavior.
But after witnessing her discarded handkerchief, everything was different now. No matter how warm and tender Akkard acted in front of her, his true feelings were reflected in how he had treated what she had given to him.
She was just a sex partner or a toy to him. He had made this clear with his actions. Not knowing that at first, she felt like an idiot that she had created a one-sided bond.
‘I don’t want to feel that way again.’
Damia didn’t want to be hurt anymore. So she decided to treat him ‘moderately’ in the future.
As long as Cesare was still alive, she still needed the help of Akkard and the royal family. So, as he had done, she would march to her own tune with clear lines between them.
Now the only thing Akkard Valerian would receive from her was her guarded insincerity. Just like right now:
“Sorry. I need to get some rest today. My injured hand hurts too.”
With a false smile, Damia casually pulled out her hand away from him. Her voice of refusal was as gentle as usual, so he hadn’t noticed anything.
Akkard was actually a little excited. He had visited Count Primula’s estate before, but it would be the first time he would stay overnight. It was not the first time he had slept in a woman’s house, but he felt strangely passionately inspired and in an enthusiastic, uplifted mood, so he doubted he would be able to sleep.
But he couldn’t force a person who didn’t like it. Moreover, her excuse was very reasonable, so he reluctantly accepted it.
“…… If you are uncomfortable, then there is nothing I can say.”
Instead, Akkard embraced Damia for the last time, fondling and nuzzling her while light-heartedly remarking that he should kiss her goodnight. In fact, it was closer to retaliation with half grumpy and half regret.
He bit her rosy cheeks, kissed her slender jawline, and finally sucked up the white nape of her neck viciously. He had tried to pass it off as a joke, but instead, it was quite a passionate caress that left a trace.
If it had been Damia from before, she would have cried out that it hurt or pushed him away as if embarrassed. But today, she was strangely calm.
It seemed she just let Akkard do what he wanted until he was satisfied. He didn’t know if it was his illusion, but the air around her was close to ‘enduring.’
Instinctively sensing something strange, Akkard released her from his arms that had held her. Damia came out of his arms as naturally as flowing water.
With a smile full of pretense, she escaped as if she was running away. Akkard looked at her back as she hurried away and frowned with an indescribable frustration.
‘What’s bothering you?’
He felt as if he had left his beloved sword in the rain. An uncomfortable feeling took hold of him. Like the anxiety that drove him to run as fast as possible, quickly wiping away the rainwater and carefully polishing his blade for hours before rust would touch it.
But his long-time flirtatious instinct warned him: Why are you chasing Damia like this?
‘Only idiots try to dig up a beehive under the ground.’
Women’s emotions and their fluctuations had always exhausted him. First, he would have to soothe the high-maintenance girls and pry it out of them why they were acting this way. Then he would promise he would never do it again and give a kiss of consolation.
But it was too tiring and too much emotional labor to do it voluntarily just for sex. So Akkard, like most indifferent men, decided to stay ignorant until the matter was pushed right in front of his nose.
‘You have to keep some distance from Damia anyway.’
Still, when he had seen her face, he had wanted to embrace her and make her cry. Perhaps, as the saying went, red hair induced lust.
That had to be it. If not, then why did he anxiously want to touch Damia Primula as soon as he saw her? It was like he was some adolescent kid who didn’t know how to control his energetic lower half.
Even now, the heat left in the hands that had held her shoulders slowly spread like a pulsating burn. Akkard realized from experience that this fever would not be easily quenched.
Damia was in her room now, somewhere in the same mansion, lying down and falling asleep. When he thought of that, his body instantly became feverish. It seemed that he would not get any sleep tonight.
If he embraced Damia in a time like this…… Yes, a head heated by lust would definitely make a mistake. Maybe he would even think that this woman was special.
‘That would be a problem.’
Yes, it was better that Damia had run away tonight. He wasn’t aware of what motivated her whim, but it would be only temporary anyway.
Akkard turned his back while convincing himself, thinking how it was convenient for him.
Meanwhile, the foolish, self-conceited man had no idea: that he was already losing Damia.