Try Crying Prettier

Chapter 64

"Fuck!"

Anger erupted ahead of his worries. It was a matter of course. What emotional connection does he have with Damia Primula?

He was about to achieve his long-cherished dream, but Damia fainted!

She really knew how to drive people crazy. Akkard grimly frowned. Even now, under him, her insides did not let him go. Perhaps because of the heat, he felt good, as if he would meltdown because her insides were so hot.

'Shall we just do it?'

Akkad thought. I'm quite feverish, but I'll catch a cold. If you do something like that, you won't have too much trouble.

However, he was not happy to hold on to her weak body and dig into her. He couldn't feel the spirit. His taste was to tease a woman until she screamed and begged him. No matter how much he longed for it, he couldn't enjoy hugging a woman without consciousness.

Annoyed, his tongue heavy with complaints, Akkard picked up her clothes and wrapped her body in his coat. He could not wait on the road floor just in case Damia's carriage would be fixed.

He decided to take Damia to his northern mansion. He could take care of her, heal her, and then ask for her body in return for saving her. Dami, who has an unexpected sincerity, will not be able to turn a blind eye to her debt.

'And then......'

Without leaving a single tearful appeal left, he would chew and swallow her whole. Akkard grasped her whole body firmly in his arms and smiled with satisfaction.

***

Damia was very sick for two days. She was a typical noble lady. A beautifully grown woman who used to maids fanning her when it was hot and warm with the finest fur and warm water bags when it was cold.

For the first time in her life, she stood in the rain for several hours, so it was inevitable she was sick even more so when her immune system was compromised by stress.

"The fever isn't going down."

Without taking off his coat, Akkard stopped by the guest bedroom and muttered. He assumed she might sneeze and catch a little cold, but he didn't expect her to be this ill.

Akkard realized that Damia was very fragile. Her face seemed distressed and was filled with redness from fever. The only time pale Damia turned red like this is when she was sexual....

"Damn me."

Akkard with a frown on his face, swearing at himself quietly. What are you thinking with the patient in front of you?

Perhaps it was a mistake to bring Damia to his mansion. But her condition was much worse than expected, so he had decided on the fly. At least his place was much closer than the Primula mansion.

It felt bizarre to see Damia lying defenseless in his territory. Akkard, who was sullen for no reason, touched her cheek and muttered,

"You know? You're the only woman who has taken my bed without having sex."

Damia was asleep, frowned as if protesting against his words. Even in her dream, she seemed to reject his touch, making him more grumpy.

Since he can't do anything serious to the patient, he decided to finish venting by pinching Damia's cheek in moderation.

"Uh..."

But Damia was also formidable. While pinching her cheek, she groaned with a grimace, wrinkling her cute nose, and while turning her body and cut his hand off, ending it's assault with a snuggle.

"Hey."

Akkard, his hand under Damia's cheek, clicked his tongue. Her small head was as big as his palm. It cost him no effort to lift her up and pull out his hand.

But he couldn't carry out what he wanted. It was because Damia suddenly rubbed her cheek on his palm as soon as he tried to pull away.

At the unexpected contact, Akkard hesitated for a moment. He knew Damia as a woman who always was on guard with a straightened back to shield her vulnerabilities.

But the very same Damia was now hanging on to him like a child now. Holding him desperately with both hands, her eyelids shook, and in a hoarse voice, she whispered pitifully,

"Mom."

As soon as he heard the voice, his shoulders lost strength, and Akkard recalled some information he knew about her,

'Didn't you live with your stepmother?'

Akkard recalled meeting her stepmother, Noella, when he visited Count Primula's estate before. She was a woman with a weak and timid impression. It seemed unbelievable she gave birth to an ambitious man like Cesare.

Even if she had the best character, a stepmother was a stepmother. It seemed like Damia was going through a complicated dream about her mother, stepmother, and family history. Like himself.

Her sweaty worn-out face looked much younger than usual. Maybe that's why? Akkard superimposed a young boy on her. It was his helpless self of the past who had to rely on the protection of his sister Sienna after they lost their parents.

'What am I thinking?'

Akkard shook his head. There was nothing good about cultivating cheap empathy for a woman who pushed him away. After he pulled out his hand held by Damia, Akkard whispered quietly,

"No matter how much you shout, no one will save you. The only one that can save you is yourself."

It was cold advice.

He let Damia's hand that had grasped his hand fall on the sheet with a snap.

****