PCP – 170

Thank you raw provider: Laylie

Yes, no matter how much Akkard was his right arm, there were other ways to go about this. If he meddled in someone else’s relationship for no good reason, nothing good would come of it.

“It must have taken a lot of effort to come to the Crown Prince’s palace. If possible, please drop by one more time soon. I have to ensure your safety and make sure you are taken care of.”

Cleverly, Heinrich decided to pay more attention to Damia’s well-being instead of meddling. She could not let her go alone, defenseless  on such an important mission with a noblewoman’s untrained, feeble body.

“Oh, and since you are here, you should go at least once to see the garden. These days, the flowers are in full bloom, so it’s really worth seeing.”

Heinrich had said it without much thought, but Magda, the chief of her palace, understood it sincerely. Still proud of the Crown Prince’s landscaping, she gladly invited Damia.

Thanks to this, she was able to look at the Crown Prince’s palace and garden, unplanned.

“From here on, I will go alone. Thank you, Minister Magda.”

A sigh escaped Damie’s lips as she looked at the garden full of colorful flowers.


Of course, it was beautiful, but the flowers couldn’t catch her eyes right now. In fact, it was as if she had come to avoid Akkard lying in her house.

Now it was uncomfortable being under one roof. So she wished he would leave soon, but there seemed to be no sign of it.

‘You can’t force a sick patient out, ugh.’

Damia, walking around the garden lost in her thoughts, suddenly stopped her steps. It was because the dark blue hair of the servant who was passing by reminded her of someone.

‘It’s not like I’ll run into Kael again.’

Damie’s complexion grew white as she recalled the last uncomfortable encounter. She was heartbroken that her once affectionate first love, which had adored her, had now saw her as an embarrassment that he wanted to avoid.

If possible, she didn’t want to see Kael ever again. But she wanted to talk to Saint Callistea one more time.

‘What is she thinking?’

The saint must be on the side of the High Temple.

But on that day, why did she approach her? And among the many questions she asked, why did she ever ask about her family?

Callistea’s actions were all suspicious, so Damia wondered what she meant. This is just a guess—but prehaps she knew of Cesare, her stepbrother.

‘I wonder what kind of relationship they have.’

Damia looked around her garden, just in case. But, of course, Callistea was nowhere to be seen.

After all, she wasn’t a stray cat, and she’s not going to show up whenever she wants to see her.

“Ah, there, wait a minute.”

But instead, someone else appeared.

‘Did you call me now?’

Damia looked around to where the sound was coming from. Then she saw three noble ladies, adorned like colorful roses.

“Yes, there. I mean you.”

The girls, who covered their mouths with fans, approached them with cool steps. It seemed that they knew who she was and approached.

Unfortunately, Damia had no way of knowing who they were. As it had not yet been two weeks since she arrived in the capital.

“Are you that lady from the North?”

They asked, discreetly blocking her way.

Damia stared at their sharp eyes and determined lips. She couldn’t find an ounce of good intentions.

She finished her calculations in an instant, smiled and immediately denied it.


“… … What, what?!”

“It’s not me. I’m sorry, but you must have mistaken me for the wrong person.”

At her escape, the girls looked utterly bewildered. They could have never fathomed that she would deny it so calmly.

It was when they looked at each other’s faces and exchanged glances, ‘What should I do?’ Taking the opportunity, Damia naturally stepped back and found a way out.

She was just about to run away from this exhausting situation.

“Wait, excuse me for a moment.”

Another person appeared from behind. Suddenly, a blonde beauty blocked Damia’s retreat and smiled brightly. And she shot an insidious look that didn’t match her pure face and opened her mouth.

“It seems that my friends are ahead of themselves. It was a bit rude of them to ask a question first without introducing themselves, right?”

“… … .”

“My name is Teresa of Marquis Dmitry. How about you?”

Unlike her slow, sloppy group, Teresa sneered upon casting a net that she could not escape from.

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