Try Crying Prettier

Thank you for the Kofi Ninjapoof523! (6/10)

To my dear daughter—

The letter was like her father, full of worries.

He asked whether Damia was doing well in the capital, whether she is marginalized in the social circle of the central nobles, whether she is wrongly entangled with a strange man while looking for a groom, etc.

Damie laughed at the extremely parental letter. There wasn’t any bad news, but she strangely she had tears in her eyes.

Perhaps it was the first time she had left her house, so her father’s letter was particularly poignant. She was completely absorbed in the letter and read each sentence as if savoring it.

Then, at some point, her eyes trembled greatly at one point.

… Damia. Do you remember General Hemish at our guild? On her way back to the North, she will soon pass through the capital.

Coincidentally, a while ago I had asked her to get a present for you from Bern. You are also in the capital now, so if you have time, meet General Hemish when she passes through the capital.

I hope you like the gift.

I love you always, my precious daughter.

… … It was a really nice gift. And among the many kingdoms, it was from ‘Bern.’

Damia recalled the question Heinrich had asked in her audience.

‘Lady Damia. Have you ever actually seen these black perfumes?’

Although her concentration was disturbed by shock at the time of the audience, his question was particularly vivid. Perhaps it was because it was so important.

The source of the ‘black perfume oil’ checked in the ledger was evidently from the Kingdom of Bern. Therefore, if it was a trader of the guild that came from Bern, he would most likely have ‘black perfume’.

Because the High Temple had been buying it for the past few years.

‘Maybe, on the pretext of coming to receive the present, I might be able to siphon off a little.’

Damia was deep in thought.

Just then, a strange noise suddenly came from the balcony overlooking her garden.

“… … mia! Dami!!”

“What’s that?”

Seeing as Lessid was asking with a frown on his face, it wasn’t some auditory hallucination.

In fact, outside, someone was shouting her name. And it was a very familiar voice.

“Come out, Damia!!”

The moment she realized the owner of that voice, she got up halfway from her seat. She went to the balcony, but she didn’t look out.

Unable to stand up or sit still, she grabbed her head with a confused expression.

‘What do I do?’

The main character of the voice was obvious. In her first place, no one would address that way but one man, Akkard Valerian.

She had thought he had been inordinately patient with his temper. It seemed that his humble forbearance had finally reached its limit. Seeing as he was shouting and calling out to her, without being aware of how shameful he was acting and without regard to his arrogance and sky high pride.

“Dami, damn it!! Come out and talk to me!”

Damia didn’t want to. At least for now. Maybe forever.

‘I don’t even want to see you.’

The hatred that flowed from her chest, like blood, was hot. She was amazed that she harbored such a fierce hatred.

Normally, she wouldn’t have been so hurt by Akkard words. But chance and timing had been so vicious.

That day, Damia had been so anxious. The capital she had visited for the first time was too large, and the unfamiliar palace was too luxurious. Even if she pretended to be indifferent on the outside, she shrank inside feeling too small as a country bumpkin from the north.

Then she met Kael Roysten. Her most painful wound, not yet healed.

By this point, her mind had reached a level on par with a wounded gladiator. She managed to hold on, but she would be finished if she received one more blow.

However, Akkard dealt her that blow and broke her. Without even a moment to catch her breath or defend.

‘No more… … I don’t want to be hurt anymore.’

Damia’s glaze grew cool with indifference.

In fact, she wasn’t even interested in Akkard’s apology. All she wanted was to be left alone. At least until she recovered from the pain.

But, as always, Akkard pushed her recklessly. He acted like a man who would die if he didn’t apologize, and he was single mindedly obsessed with his own purpose.

Thanks to this, Damia, who had been reduced to a ‘means’ to his apology, was terribly tired. Naturally, a look of disgust appeared on her face as she gazed at her balcony.

“Pfft.”

A sudden laughter rang like the wind blowing from her side. She turned her head in surprise and saw Lessid smiling happily.

“It sounds like Sir Akkard’s voice. I’m so glad, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him. If it’s alright with you, can I go out and say ‘hello’ for you instead?”

Lessid whispered with a wicked smile of a bad boy. Damia hesitated because it sounded like he would deal with Akkard instead of her.

Could it be that she gets him involved in her relationship with Akkard frivolously? Wouldn’t that be too selfish and irresponsible?

Perhaps noticing her troubled look, Lessid bowed. And he looked into Damia blue eyes and whispered in a voice heavy with meaning,

“You can ask me for help as much as you want. Whatever it is.”