/
His stare had a meaningful undertone to it. Deatrice pretended to not understand and spoke slowly.
“After a long time, it just felt good to move my body that I even decided to try horseback riding again. When we took a stroll in the rainforest, I saw a swaying hydrangea and received it as a gift. It was so romantic. Then there was this swing under the tree where a kiss—”
“Deatrice.”
She grinned at his signal for her to be serious. “I thought you were curious?”
“You know I’m not curious about that.”
“I’m just doing as you’ve suggested.” She glanced with a thrilled expression; her face full of vitality. “I don’t want to leave the country, so having an affair doesn’t seem too bad. I wouldn’t even need to stop because this would be helpful for you when you present your case in court.”
Lucius got up, trying to restrain his blood from boiling.
“I’ll go.”
“Okay.”
Deatrice finished greeting by waving her fingers as lightly as the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. As soon as Lucius disappeared behind the door, her face hardened and she collapsed into the bed.
She stared at the canopy hanging over her bed expressionlessly, then she closed her eyes with a tired face.
In the first place, Lucius was the one who wanted to put an end to all of this. She was merely—finally—helping out. If he was displeased by this new development, he could just replace Atkins with a new escort.
But Lucius didn’t.
He didn’t even care that Deatrice was playing him. It felt like he was just embarrassed by the fact that he was compared to his subordinate, and to hide the fact that he wasn’t as affected as he seemed, he quietly left Atkins by her side.
“Be careful.”
Lucius saw Atkins say something and escorted her to her carriage.
Ever since that day, Deatrice and Atkins became a little closer, but their closeness has yet to cross the line between an escort knight and a lady. But to Lucius, who had already become sensitive to these small issues, those tiny details became magnified and he was even more concerned.
Hm. If it’s about looks, Atkins isn’t that bad

He was also young and innocent, so he was easily teased. He doesn’t even know how to mask his emotions and readily wears his heart on his sleeves.
Lucius surmised that the knight must’ve liked her from the beginning. Picturing Deatrice in his mind, he could roughly understand why that was the case.
Young and surrounded by brawny as well as straightforward men, it would instead come as a surprise if Atkins knew the art of concealing one’s emotions. Now that he was experiencing a surge of new feelings, he was at a loss.
A small token or gesture of affection and he would stay up all night thinking about it. Even though he might know he’d be rejected, he would eventually conclude that it would be best if he expressed his feelings honestly.
“I know this shouldn’t have happened, but I love you. Try as I might, there is nothing I can do to restrain the growing feelings in my chest. I’m not saying this because I want you to reciprocate—I ask nothing from you—but I just want you to know what lies inside my heart
”
Lucius imagined he would confess using words similar to that, but he knew it was bullshit.
How can a person neither want nor wish for anything?
All humans are creatures of desire and history has already proven that. They would flock to wherever luxury and pleasure are present. Give them ‘one’ and they’ll come back demanding ‘two’ like the greedy bastards that they are.
Once they have a taste of something, they’ll continue to want more of it. Yet despite already having an abundance of what they want, people would never be satisfied and still want more.
Such is the folly of human nature, yet it was also this greediness that enabled them to live their lives in comfort.
Desperately wanting to rekindle his cigarette, Lucius followed Deatrice inside.
“I’m just doing as you’ve suggested. I don’t want to leave the country, so having an affair doesn’t seem too bad. I wouldn’t even need to stop because this would be helpful for you when you present your case in court.”
Deatrice’s words came to mind again.
Lucius suddenly felt a sense of disappointment and resentment suffocating his throat. Having already spent a night with Deatrice, he’d remember it twelve times a day, then miss her. Then he’d despise himself and feel a bout of confusion, then the cycle repeats. It was comfortable and at the same time, it wasn’t.
Of course, he knew it was going to be this way. They knew it would pass like a far-fetched dream. They just didn’t expect the events of that night to have such a profound effect on their relationship.
He could only stare at her sleeping face at night with a sigh. Because everything was simply just that—a fantasy, and one so easily crushed at that.
But even if it was a dream, the two of them had that dream together. But why does it feel like he was the only one who remembered everything?
Was it because he would abandon her soon? Is that why he doesn’t feel anything coming from her? Does an abandoned person really become that unmoved and unremorseful after the fact?
But if that’s the case, why did he suffer so much when he was the one abandoned six years ago?