PCP – 214

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Teresa recalled herself as a foolish twenty-year-old who once believed she could get Akkard.

‘At that time, I thought I would be special.’

So she thought she could tame that beautiful and arrogant man. But it was she who was arrogant.

When Teresa refused to sleep with him, Akkard quickly lost interest. To him, there was never anything special about Teresa in the first place.

So Akkard quickly turned his attention to other options. But, unfortunately, it happened to be a fox-like, coy maid of Teresa’s that flirted with Akkard behind her back.

Teresa felt so humiliated that her face caught fire. But, reluctant to admit she was hurt, she became even more scathing and pretended to loathe Akkard.

‘It’s okay, Because he doesn’t love anyone anyway.’

She wasn’t special, but no one would be either. Only that fact comforted Teresa’s pompous pride.

But even that was her own illusion.

She had been watching Akkard all this time, so she could tell just by looking at his eyes: That the red-haired northern girl was very special to him.

‘Has he ever gazed at a woman with those kinds of eyes?’

The Akkard Valerian she knew was a man who always looked down on others as if he were judging them. Women were trying to look good before him, fawning all over him while Akkard would look around as if picking fruit.

But what about the sight she had just witnessed? The earnest desperation of a man, with his body lowering its posture and oozing sweet tenderness as if he was courting a woman and trying to look good in her eyes somehow.

“… … Really.”

It was beyond pathetic. Akkard Valerian, who has fallen in ‘real’ love, belatedly now, and herself who is still hurt by the sight of him.

It was ridiculous that she followed the High Temple to become the Crown Princess with this kind of heart. But Teresa was not a romantic enough woman to confuse her personal feelings with family glory and power.

Teresa had a twisted smirk while thinking of the sly Crown Prince, who was well hidden behind a smiling mask.

‘Well, it doesn’t matter. He also has someone else in his heart anyway.’

How funny would it be if two people who had unrequited love for other people got married and became a couple?

Teresa scoffed at her future without dreams and hopes. And turning her back, she left the place where she wasn’t welcomed.

Unfortunately, unlike Teresa, who had said everything she had to say, the atmosphere on the other side was too heavy with unsaid words.

“… … .”

Akkard bit his lip and watched Damia’s face. At this point, it seemed that Cesare’s funeral was more cordial.

The restaurant staff, who could not promptly stop the intrusion of the uninvited guest, were also fretting. Finally, they apologized for the unpleasant experience and provided a special dessert for free.

The brownie topped with vanilla ice cream and the cake made with small macarons stacked like a mountain looked absolutely delicious. But neither of them touched the dessert.

Akkard glanced at Damia’s face, feeling his blood drying out. And then he lowered his gaze and again peeked at her mysterious masked expression, his heart burning.

On the other hand, Damia did not bother to make eye contact with him, although she knew his restlessness.

“Are you done eating?”

Damia asked, having swallowed the last of the wine left in her glass. Akkard nodded, and without looking back, she got up from her seat and left.

She didn’t want to stay at this restaurant where he had brought the women he had slept with.


As if they had never been friendly, Damia left with a cold mind. Akkard hurriedly followed her, calling after her, but her heartless and beautiful face never looked back at him.

“Damia, please… … .”

Damia got into the wagon and locked her door. The sound of a cold iron click made his heart freeze.

It would have been easy for him to follow her, grab her slender wrist, and force her to turn and look at him. But the more he did, the more Damia’s heart became more distant.

Akkard was deeply devastated by this fact. Like quicksand, the more he struggled, the deeper he sank— the more his past constantly grabbed his ankles.

If he could, he only wanted to strangle his past promiscuous self. He would take the body, put it at her feet, and beg. Then would she glance at him?

Watching her departing wagon, Akkard felt an insane panic and helpless dread. However, no matter how much he regretted it, the past had not changed, and he was far from Damia sparing him a glance.

It was when he, who had lost all his strength, stood absentmindedly on the darkened street.


He heard the clicking sound of distaste behind him. When he turned around in surprise, to his astonishment, Sienna watched him with her arms crossed.

And with very contemptuous regard.

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