“Yes? Oh, yes, yes. I like omelets.”
Bewildered by the unexpected question, Damia nodded her head after a moment. Sienna smiled happily, responding in a soft tone:
“These days, I’m learning to cook as a hobby, but it’s not as easy as I thought. Even if it’s just an omelet.”
… … In this case, how should I answer in accordance with etiquette?
Damia thought about it for a while, but in the first place, Sienna Valerian was a woman whose existence surpassed common sense.
So, she decided to start with a casual greeting.
“It’s been a while, Miss Sienna. How have you been?”
“It’s been a while?”
However, Damia’s efforts were mistaken, and Sienna asked as if she could not understand. She added while tilting her head,
“Didn’t you see me last time?”
She must have been referring to seeing Akkard’s past together in her dream. When she understood the meaning of her words, Damia felt a sense of wonder and goosebumps grow.
‘Well, uh… … I guess it wasn’t just a dream.’
Akkard, who broke the silence, suddenly intervened and asked,
“Are you hurt, Damia?”
He must have been very surprised; he looked at Damia anxiously while he blamed himself.
‘Why did I lose my wits and not do anything like a moron?’
Indeed, it was a pathetic excuse, but it was the honest truth: his love was overwhelming. He was amazed by her presence and how much power she had over him. Upon hearing her voice and seeing her face, he had that distinct sensation of everything else disappearing.
Instantly, he completely forgot where he was and what he was doing. Damia was the only thing he could see in front of him.
A numb terror rained over him when he realized he had almost witnessed Damia harmed right in front of him. Akkard had never been pleased or in awe of Sienna’s ‘strange’ abilities, but he was truly and deeply grateful at this moment.
“… … Thank you.”
Of course, Sienna, like most older sisters, was not interested in her younger brother’s thanks.
“Then I’ll have to go back to my eggs. See you soon, Damia.”
Sienna, who didn’t even bother to spare a look at her brother, bid a gentle farewell to Damia. Before she turned her back, she reached out and grabbed Teresa’s wrist.
“And you, you’ll come with me for a moment.”
“What—what? Why should I— !!”
A startled Teresa was about to be fussy and throw a tantrum as usual. Sienna shot her a look without saying a word.
The moment she saw her face reflected in her silver eyes, Teresa’s rigid shoulders fell in resignation. And she left silently, led by Sienna’s hand.
Although Sienna didn’t look back at Damia, Damia understood her nonverbal sentiment: ‘Don’t worry about the future.’
Teresa wouldn’t bother her again.
“I’m fine, Sir Akkard.”
He was still worried that she might be hurt, so she took Akkard’s restless hand and lowered it. He didn’t even dare to touch her; his hand had stopped mid-air, trembling, not knowing what to do.
“Your cheeks seem to be in worse condition than I am. It’s very swollen. Are you all right?”
she inquired as she studied his face, which had begun to swell after being struck by a lady. Gently covering his cheek with his hand, he replied,
“It’s all right.”
It happened while thoroughly cleaning up his unhealthy relationships with women from his past. He was mortified to show Damia this look.
Especially since it was the reason why she rejected him.
‘But she did come forward for me.’
In the corner of his heart, the man’s hope slyly whispered.
‘So maybe I have a chance.’
Akkard’s heart swelled a little. But Damia’s countenance, which he carefully peeked at, was invariably rational and callous.
Her white cheeks were absolutely devoid of the flush of a woman in love with her heart pounding and eager to look good to a man.
Thud—-
His slightly excited heart fell from a high place and crashed even more painfully. Who dared whisper hope to him? What hurt people more than despair was futile and shallow hope.
“… … You’re going to the North again, aren’t you?”
Damia asked, lowering her eyes. Akkard nodded in affirmation.
“I am.”
In order to rescue the “real saint” trapped in the High Temple, Heinrich’s plan required a small team of elites to carry out the mission.
Calix would find the real saint by his senses, Damia’s father would act as the guide, and Akkard, along with a couple of warriors, would lead the rescue operation.
“Can’t I join in on that ‘plan,’ huh?”
Damia asked, looking discontented. Akkard, about to and willing to agree to anything she desired, hesitated to answer her question.
“Damia.”
Akkard, unable to hide his discomfiture, addressed her. It was an evident rejection, so she gave up with a resigned nod.
“I brought it up just in case. Nevermind.”
The plan to infiltrate the High Temple had to be carried out quickly. Therefore, the most important criterion was one’s physical condition, such as strength, stamina, and endurance.
Unfortunately, Damia was an ordinary aristocratic lady with none of the required qualities. Even if she insisted on following, she would be a nuisance.
Knowing this well herself, she hopelessly stepped down.
“Yes? Oh, yes, yes. I like omelets.”
Bewildered by the unexpected question, Damia nodded her head after a moment. Sienna smiled happily, responding in a soft tone:
“These days, I’m learning to cook as a hobby, but it’s not as easy as I thought. Even if it’s just an omelet.”
… … In this case, how should I answer in accordance with etiquette?
Damia thought about it for a while, but in the first place, Sienna Valerian was a woman whose existence surpassed common sense.
So, she decided to start with a casual greeting.
“It’s been a while, Miss Sienna. How have you been?”
“It’s been a while?”
However, Damia’s efforts were mistaken, and Sienna asked as if she could not understand. She added while tilting her head,
“Didn’t you see me last time?”
She must have been referring to seeing Akkard’s past together in her dream. When she understood the meaning of her words, Damia felt a sense of wonder and goosebumps grow.
‘Well, uh… … I guess it wasn’t just a dream.’
Akkard, who broke the silence, suddenly intervened and asked,
“Are you hurt, Damia?”
He must have been very surprised; he looked at Damia anxiously while he blamed himself.
‘Why did I lose my wits and not do anything like a moron?’
Indeed, it was a pathetic excuse, but it was the honest truth: his love was overwhelming. He was amazed by her presence and how much power she had over him. Upon hearing her voice and seeing her face, he had that distinct sensation of everything else disappearing.
Instantly, he completely forgot where he was and what he was doing. Damia was the only thing he could see in front of him.
A numb terror rained over him when he realized he had almost witnessed Damia harmed right in front of him. Akkard had never been pleased or in awe of Sienna’s ‘strange’ abilities, but he was truly and deeply grateful at this moment.
“… … Thank you.”
Of course, Sienna, like most older sisters, was not interested in her younger brother’s thanks.
“Then I’ll have to go back to my eggs. See you soon, Damia.”
Sienna, who didn’t even bother to spare a look at her brother, bid a gentle farewell to Damia. Before she turned her back, she reached out and grabbed Teresa’s wrist.
“And you, you’ll come with me for a moment.”
“What—what? Why should I— !!”
A startled Teresa was about to be fussy and throw a tantrum as usual. Sienna shot her a look without saying a word.
The moment she saw her face reflected in her silver eyes, Teresa’s rigid shoulders fell in resignation. And she left silently, led by Sienna’s hand.
Although Sienna didn’t look back at Damia, Damia understood her nonverbal sentiment: ‘Don’t worry about the future.’
Teresa wouldn’t bother her again.
“I’m fine, Sir Akkard.”
He was still worried that she might be hurt, so she took Akkard’s restless hand and lowered it. He didn’t even dare to touch her; his hand had stopped mid-air, trembling, not knowing what to do.
“Your cheeks seem to be in worse condition than I am. It’s very swollen. Are you all right?”
she inquired as she studied his face, which had begun to swell after being struck by a lady. Gently covering his cheek with his hand, he replied,
“It’s all right.”
It happened while thoroughly cleaning up his unhealthy relationships with women from his past. He was mortified to show Damia this look.
Especially since it was the reason why she rejected him.
‘But she did come forward for me.’
In the corner of his heart, the man’s hope slyly whispered.
‘So maybe I have a chance.’
Akkard’s heart swelled a little. But Damia’s countenance, which he carefully peeked at, was invariably rational and callous.
Her white cheeks were absolutely devoid of the flush of a woman in love with her heart pounding and eager to look good to a man.
Thud—-
His slightly excited heart fell from a high place and crashed even more painfully. Who dared whisper hope to him? What hurt people more than despair was futile and shallow hope.
“… … You’re going to the North again, aren’t you?”
Damia asked, lowering her eyes. Akkard nodded in affirmation.
“I am.”
In order to rescue the “real saint” trapped in the High Temple, Heinrich’s plan required a small team of elites to carry out the mission.
Calix would find the real saint by his senses, Damia’s father would act as the guide, and Akkard, along with a couple of warriors, would lead the rescue operation.
“Can’t I join in on that ‘plan,’ huh?”
Damia asked, looking discontented. Akkard, about to and willing to agree to anything she desired, hesitated to answer her question.
“Damia.”
Akkard, unable to hide his discomfiture, addressed her. It was an evident rejection, so she gave up with a resigned nod.
“I brought it up just in case. Nevermind.”
The plan to infiltrate the High Temple had to be carried out quickly. Therefore, the most important criterion was one’s physical condition, such as strength, stamina, and endurance.
Unfortunately, Damia was an ordinary aristocratic lady with none of the required qualities. Even if she insisted on following, she would be a nuisance.
Knowing this well herself, she hopelessly stepped down.
