He, who had always satisfied his own greed and hurt others, now knew the pain of the wounded. His eyes, which shined with an arrogance higher than the sky, were darker than before and continued to grow darker.
It was the misery of a rejected and abandoned person: wretchedness and gloom.
Seeing his eyes filled with inexpressible bleak emotions, Veronica realized: Finally, he found himself in the same situation as herself.
“… … Ha. This is so absurd.”
Veronica smiled despondently, wiping her wet face with her handkerchief and ruffled her hair. It was meaningless to get angry any longer with Akkard, who looked just like her past self.
Still, Veronica realized she was finally ready to get over him thanks to the apology. She had thought she would only think of Akkard Valerian her whole life. But people change. Like herself. Like Akkard.
“I hope we never see each other again, Sir Akkard,”
declared Veronica, who barely managed to scrape together her last remaining pride. Turning her back on him gracefully, she was finally freed from the man she could never have.
Akkard left alone, stood there for a moment. Damia hid in the corner and watched the scene unintentionally. A cold sweat broke out.
‘Is it over?’
She prayed that Akkard would not walk this way. Fortunately, he turned in the opposite direction.
Damia was about to let out a deep, silent sigh of relief when Akkard’s back, as he was about to leave, suddenly stopped.
“There, who is it?”
It looked like she was caught. At the same time as his heavy voice fell, Damia’s heart plummeted.
Biting her lip, she was contemplating whether or not to step out. Unexpectedly, one person appeared one step ahead, Teresa Dmitry.
“It’s me.”
A blonde beauty that came out from behind her pillar was elegant and arrogant. She hated admitting it, but if a tiara was put on that head, she would look perfect.
But upon looking at the perfect, golden, doll-like Teresa, his eyes were cold.
“I knew that your hobbies were bad, but I didn’t know that you even enjoyed eavesdropping.”
Akkard was sarcastic. Teresa was not on his apology list. Of course, just because they never slept together didn’t mean she was less hurt.
But Teresa, unlike the other victims, clenched her teeth and hid her wounds with venom. And she started attacking the Akkard’s women.
It wasn’t just because of petty emotions such as jealousy.
‘I’ll never let anyone notice my innermost thoughts—Never!’
Born as the daughter of a great aristocrat with high self-esteem, she had no shortage. She was more arrogant than Akkard in some ways.
She dared not tolerate Akkard’s new women, feeling superior to her.
So, instead of acknowledging and healing her wounds, Teresa covered them with pretense and hypocrisy, rotting them. And chose to ignore her rotting insides as she swung her twisted claws and wounded others.
Wasn’t there a saying that the best defense was an offense? Rather than being a foolish, pathetic weakling wounded by a man, Teresa would rather be a vicious perpetrator who harassed others.
And her strategy worked. Because she was the same perpetrator as himself, Akkard felt no regrets towards her at all.
“If you’re here to talk nonsense again, you’d better leave, Teresa.”
Akkard, in a lousy mood, warned her in a voice as cold as frost. His muscular body, a head larger than any other man, cast a daunting shadow over her.
But there was no sign of fear on Teresa’s face, eaten by his shadow.
“It seems that you have no intention of apologizing to me, do you?”
He, who had always satisfied his own greed and hurt others, now knew the pain of the wounded. His eyes, which shined with an arrogance higher than the sky, were darker than before and continued to grow darker.
It was the misery of a rejected and abandoned person: wretchedness and gloom.
Seeing his eyes filled with inexpressible bleak emotions, Veronica realized: Finally, he found himself in the same situation as herself.
“… … Ha. This is so absurd.”
Veronica smiled despondently, wiping her wet face with her handkerchief and ruffled her hair. It was meaningless to get angry any longer with Akkard, who looked just like her past self.
Still, Veronica realized she was finally ready to get over him thanks to the apology. She had thought she would only think of Akkard Valerian her whole life. But people change. Like herself. Like Akkard.
“I hope we never see each other again, Sir Akkard,”
declared Veronica, who barely managed to scrape together her last remaining pride. Turning her back on him gracefully, she was finally freed from the man she could never have.
Akkard left alone, stood there for a moment. Damia hid in the corner and watched the scene unintentionally. A cold sweat broke out.
‘Is it over?’
She prayed that Akkard would not walk this way. Fortunately, he turned in the opposite direction.
Damia was about to let out a deep, silent sigh of relief when Akkard’s back, as he was about to leave, suddenly stopped.
“There, who is it?”
It looked like she was caught. At the same time as his heavy voice fell, Damia’s heart plummeted.
Biting her lip, she was contemplating whether or not to step out. Unexpectedly, one person appeared one step ahead, Teresa Dmitry.
“It’s me.”
A blonde beauty that came out from behind her pillar was elegant and arrogant. She hated admitting it, but if a tiara was put on that head, she would look perfect.
But upon looking at the perfect, golden, doll-like Teresa, his eyes were cold.
“I knew that your hobbies were bad, but I didn’t know that you even enjoyed eavesdropping.”
Akkard was sarcastic. Teresa was not on his apology list. Of course, just because they never slept together didn’t mean she was less hurt.
But Teresa, unlike the other victims, clenched her teeth and hid her wounds with venom. And she started attacking the Akkard’s women.
It wasn’t just because of petty emotions such as jealousy.
‘I’ll never let anyone notice my innermost thoughts—Never!’
Born as the daughter of a great aristocrat with high self-esteem, she had no shortage. She was more arrogant than Akkard in some ways.
She dared not tolerate Akkard’s new women, feeling superior to her.
So, instead of acknowledging and healing her wounds, Teresa covered them with pretense and hypocrisy, rotting them. And chose to ignore her rotting insides as she swung her twisted claws and wounded others.
Wasn’t there a saying that the best defense was an offense? Rather than being a foolish, pathetic weakling wounded by a man, Teresa would rather be a vicious perpetrator who harassed others.
And her strategy worked. Because she was the same perpetrator as himself, Akkard felt no regrets towards her at all.
“If you’re here to talk nonsense again, you’d better leave, Teresa.”
Akkard, in a lousy mood, warned her in a voice as cold as frost. His muscular body, a head larger than any other man, cast a daunting shadow over her.
But there was no sign of fear on Teresa’s face, eaten by his shadow.
“It seems that you have no intention of apologizing to me, do you?”
