PCP – 197

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She never even dreamed that Akkard would know about her first love, Kael.

“How do you… … ah,”

Damia asked with a shaky voice and then bit her mouth. Finally, she recalled that he had recently interrogated Cesare.

If it were Cesare, who was as tenacious as a water ghost, he would have said anything to seize and shake Akkard’s mind.

“Answer my question, Damia.”

As if scratching her ears, a terribly low voice urged her to answer. The voice seemed to bind her like an invisible vine, and Damia was fed up.

“What does that have to do with Sir Akkard?”

Naturally, words that pushed him away came out of Damia’s mouth.

“I don’t want to discuss my private matters with you! When did I ever ask Sir Akkard who he likes?”

Damia folded her arms in front of her chest as if to protect herself and shot back. She did not doubt that the sparks of this conversation would soon escalate into a big fight.

‘I do not care. After all, it’s a fight he started first.’

But Akkard did not retaliate emotionally. Instead, a painful sigh escaped between his sharp lips.

“… … ha.”

Looking down on her, Akkard’s face contorted a lot. It was as if his heart had been cut off by her refusal and he was at a loss at what to do with her rejection.

“Please, Damia. I must know,”

Akkard asked stubbornly, clearly looking troubled.

“Tell me. Is it true that you slept with me to forget Kael Roysten?”

Unfortunately, with an interrogative tone, his persistent questioning touched Damia’s wrath.

It was a secret she didn’t want anyone to find out, and it was her only digression from her proud life. She wanted to bury the shame of it and never wanted to tell anyone.

However, Damia was very aggrieved that he dug through it and revealed her innermost thoughts. She felt that Akkard, who spoke as if he was accusing her of being some kind of mischievous maiden, was terribly brazen.

“… … and what if I did?”

Damia asked slowly. At her tone that seemed to affirm his ominous assumption, Akkard’s eyes widened and quaked greatly.

“Why can’t I? After all, you, too, slept with me to satisfy your lust.”

Who was the first to treat and use people as night entertainment?

Damia suppressed her anger and sneered with poison. However, she still remembered it clearly. After her first affair, when he saw the blood she had shed, he had a very annoyed look on his face.

But it wasn’t just that. What about his ruthless remarks—What about when he tried to kick her out as soon as the relationship was over, and her body was groaning from the unfamiliar and her first experience?

‘But how dare you?!’

Now, how can you look at me with that victim-like face?

Akkard’s face turned pale when he received her cold glare. Damia watched as the power drained from his arms that had trapped her.

“… … I think I understand why Sir Akkard is doing this.”

Damia opened her mouth as she struggled to suppress her surging emotions. She wasn’t stupid enough to wonder why Akkard was like this.

“You’re at that point where you’ve had enough experience with women, and moving around is tiring. You just want to settle down in one place, right?”

It was a characteristic often seen in men who played and slept around enough. Then, based on their numerous experiences, they knew well which woman would be “suitable” to marry.

So, gradually, he was trying to settle down with a woman as a base. Gently luring with lies, such as ‘I like you’ or ‘I love you.’.

‘Really, you’re the worst.’

He would probably get married and be quiet for a while. However, in the eyes of a casanova who had played with many women, there would be nothing remarkable about being married and having a wife.

So, as soon as he got tired of married life, he would start playing again. While making excuses such as his wife was boring or she was pregnant.

Damia knew that when she was in love, she gave everything generously. And she knew she would never tolerate a playboy’s “proper counterpart” treatment.

Time would slowly corrode her heart and make her sick, like a poison that burned and spread through her veins.

“I know what Sir Akkard wants, but I am not interested. So look for another woman. You are capable enough.”

Damia lowered her eyes and spoke in a quick tone. She expected that Akkard would get angry at her retort.

‘Because he’s such a proud man.’

She recalled a thought she had from the first moment she saw Akkard: This man has rarely been rejected in his entire life.

When he saw Akkard’s dazzling confidence and sometimes brazen boldness, he seemed like a man who had never been hurt. He was so stunningly handsome that he was still charming and attractive, even with that disgusting, hateful arrogance.

So even if she rejected him, he would soon forget. And he would find dozens of other ‘suitable’ girls.

Damia, convinced of this, raised her head. But before she could even register Akkard’s expression, hot water dripped down her eyelids.


Damia, startled, reflexively closed her eyes, squinting. And the back of her hand stole the unknown water from her face.

Foreign water drops that were hot as if they were burning her eyelids were lukewarm on the back of her hands. Damia, who did not understand what was happening, looked up at him in disbelief.

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