Try Crying Prettier

Chapter 73

“It seems that the sibling relationships of northerners are very unusual.”

Hilariously, Akkard was thinking of the brother and sister relationship between Lessid and Louise.

Lessid, who hated his sister, was now her rival by siding with the royal family. Then there was Damia who volunteered to join hands with him to destroy Cesare, her step-brother.

These dynamics were extremely interesting to him.

Akkard’s thoughts naturally lead to thinking of his own bond with his sister Sienna, who was now in the royal palace in the capital.

And then he thought of the warning she divulged in his dreams.

‘Keep this in mind—I’m telling you this because you’re such a fool—If you don’t get rid of your trashy lifestyle right away, you’ll regret it forever.’

Why did he have that dream?

Akkard shrugged his shoulders and dismissed it as a meaningless dream. Moving on, he asked Damia,

“But why do you want to destroy Cesare? I’m curious.”

“·····Do I have to answer that?”

Damia asked back with a pale face.

Akkard saw her slender fingers tremble a little, like a frail white birch swaying in the cold winter wind.

An ordinary gentleman would have stopped interrogating Damia at this point, but Akkard was a far cry from a gentleman.

Rather, he felt a strong interest and mischievous curiosity when Damia showed a rare glimpse at her vulnerability.

“Yes, I need to know why you want to help,”

he pried as if he were pushing his claws into a cornered prey.

Then, the tremors that started from Damia’s fingertips spread to her shoulders.

‘There must be other situations and dynamics that I’m not aware of,’

Akkard smirked, the woman he was anxious to sleep with was shaking because of another guy—which was very annoying, but on the other hand, he was quite pleased that Damia wanted to destroy him.

Akkard, who concealed his evil intentions, poured wine he had in his bedroom out in glasses. Then he held Damia’s shaking hand and gave her the cup.

“Come on, let’s have a drink first and then talk.”

“…thank you.”’

Damia, whose head was full of Cesare, accepted it and took a sip. She needed something to calm her mind.

It must have been wine from the south because the sweetness that spread in her mouth was strong and fragrant.

Her weakened body that just woke up from a sickbed seat quickly got intoxicated. Armed with drunken courage, Damia slowly opened her mouth, her cheeks already hot.

“A few days ago, in the middle of the night when no one was around, Cesare broke into my bedroom.”

“What?”

At her shocking admission, Akkard rose halfway from his seat.

In his heart, he looked down on Cesare. He was a weak snake looming around Damia and swallowing his thirst, unable to do anything as he watched her.

But how dare he sneak into Damia’s bedroom! Rage surged from the depths of his chest. Akkard’s manly chin grew rigid.

“Oye, nothing happened–Really!”

added Damia, who misunderstood Akkard’s response.

She was afraid that her reputation and the honor of Count Primula would plummet.

“Cesare just threatened me a little.”

“He threatened you? What did he say?”

“Don’t get in his way and, um…….”

Her lips trembled. She couldn’t bear to repeat Cesare’s words and looked at Akkard.

Akkard wanted to grab her by the shoulders and force her to speak quickly.

But he also needed time to calm down now.

So instead of persuading her, Akkard clenched his teeth and poured more wine into her glass.

Damia didn’t reject his offer either. She kept shaking and short of breath when she thought of that night.

The horror and panic of being strangled by a bigger, stronger man than her in a locked bedroom late at night. The overwhelming sense of helplessness and despair that no matter what cruel thing he decided to do to her she would not be able to resist.

When she recalled all of this her mind seemed so depleted.

Damia hurriedly downed the glass of wine, as if to wash away the memory and barely managed to answer Akkard’s question.

“He, Cesare……..uh, warned me. Stay away from Lord Akkard.”

***