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.
âShall we just do it?â
Akkad thought. Iâm quite feverish, but Iâll catch a cold. If you do something like that, you wonât have too much trouble.
However, he was not happy to hold on to her weak body and dig into her. He couldnât 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 couldnât 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 Damiaâs 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.
âAnd thenâŠâŠâ
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.
âThe fever isnât going down.â
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 didnât 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 sexualâŠ.
âDamn me.â
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,
âYou know? Youâre the only woman who has taken my bed without having sex.â
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 canât do anything serious to the patient, he decided to finish venting by pinching Damiaâs cheek in moderation.
âUhâŠâ
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 itâs assault with a snuggle.
âHey.â
Akkard, his hand under Damiaâs 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 couldnât 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,
âMom.â
As soon as he heard the voice, his shoulders lost strength, and Akkard recalled some information he knew about her,
âDidnât you live with your stepmother?â
Akkard recalled meeting her stepmother, Noella, when he visited Count Primulaâs 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 thatâs 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.
âWhat am I thinking?â
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,
âNo matter how much you shout, no one will save you. The only one that can save you is yourself.â
It was cold advice.
He let Damiaâs hand that had grasped his hand fall on the sheet with a snap.