“I don’t care. Of course, My father won’t like it, but what about it? Everyone plays moderately before marriage. He’s not going to interfere with the privacy of his eldest daughter.”

Damia answered grimly but calmly. Cecil casually nodded and mumbled, her delicate eyebrows frowning.

“What the hell does Cesare want? I’m going to chase him down and demand he tells me. I don’t know what he is thinking.”

“Maybe he is trying to flatter my father? But he’s already busy with his business. Cesare is probably disturbing him.”

Damia frowned. Cesare was her step-brother whom her step-mother brought with her when she remarried. Therefore, even if the current Count of Primula and step-mother were involved, their blood was not mixed at all. It bothered her that he kept hovering around her father.

When Damia became serious, Cecil was also lost in thought.

“I guess he wants one of the two: Count Primula or you. Which one is it going to be?”

Damia didn’t answer. Of course, Cesare couldn’t have both, but she had a sneaking premonition that he might somehow find a way.

Dami was rapidly getting tired and closed her eyes. Then Cecil kicked her tongue and poured him a cup of tea.

“As soon as you woke up, I brought up a heavy topic. Just drink it first. Drink it up and talk.”

… Cecil had the knack of offering herbal tea as if it were an alcoholic drink. Damia, who received the glass in a hurry, tilted the cup as she requested.

Warming up with fragrant tea water on an empty stomach, her head seemed to clear up a little. It was just when Damia was about to regain inner peace when Cecil couldn’t hold back, who was glancing at her chin from the side and interrogated:

“So did you sleep with Sir Akkard? How was it, as good as the rumors say?”

“Coo-hoo! Cough-cough-cough-cough!”

Damia spilled and spat up half a cup of tea at the unexpected surprise, wetting the front of the white camise.

‘It’s like the night I seduced Akkard and poured mead into my chest.’

“Cecil!”

Damia frowned and rebuked the person responsible for surprising her. Cecil, who still had a bone to pick with Damia, refuted sharply:

“Why are you yelling? If you were going to drive me away with a lie, you better be ready to atone for it. Quickly answer me! I’m so curious. Was he not good at it?”

Cecil eyes were filled with grievances. When she saw that face, Damia had no choice but to resign herself with a groan.

“It was fine.”

Actually, it was pretty good. Akkard Valerian was really incredible and dashing, and he kept her down until the very end.

‘Thanks to you, even though it was my first time, I was able to enjoy climaxing until I was utterly exhausted.’

Her face turned red when she recalled his appearance last night. Fortunately, Cecil immediately began to complain and inquire about Akkard’s stamina.

“I didn’t think you’d get rid of Sir Akkard like that. Dami, I thought you were different, but one night with a playboy… this sister raised you wrong.”

“Sorry, Cecil.”

“I’m going to call you Feu Papillon from today. You know what I mean? Fire to the moths!” (TN: it’s actually is fire butterflies—but that didn’t make sense)

“……You must have been very upset. You’re being petty now.”

Damia looked at Cecil with tired eyes.

I thought I had enough of Cecil, so I kept my mouth shut.

She picked up a jam-packed biscuit from the tray and asked Dami.

“So, do you feel refreshed? Or…..do you regret it?”

“Regret?”

Damia briefly recalled last night. Akkard did not even pretend to be friendly and speak empty words. They had nothing to do with each other, so she didn’t have the audacity to expect consideration.

But that meant that everything Akkard did communicate was the truth—and that was sorely lacking in Damia’s world and therefore very refreshing.

The truth was in the longing in Akkard’s eyes as he looked at her, the fingertips that stroked her like he was admiring a marvel, and the feverish gestures as if he had been driven into a passionate frenzy and wanted her all to himself. All of those honest actions without pretense spoke volumes to Damia.

She was so beautiful that he wanted her.

It was a great consolation to Damia, whose self-esteem had fallen to the bottom; even though it was a relationship of momentary affectionless desires, it was true that she was comforted.

‘Thanks to that, I was able to stand up again because of that shallow warmth.’

“I don’t regret sleeping with him, Cecil.”

“Well, just in case.”

Cecil’s pupils shook nervously at Damia’s honest answer. Then she bit her lips before she said:

“I’m not really worried about you, Dami, but I’m just speaking out of an older sister’s concern for her younger sister. You know, when grown men and women mix up, things can get complicated… And since Lord Akkard is charming and handsome, you might develop new feelings…”

“I don’t like him. It’s just a one-night stand. So you don’t have to worry about me.”

***