It was the moment she was about to open her mouth, which she had been closing tightly like a clam— of all times, someone called them from behind:

“There, aren’t you Lord Akkard?”

Looking back, there was a middle-aged woman, dressed as the chief steward of the palace, standing there.

Damia, who found her, sealed her lips. Akkard saw an expressionless mask placed over her face, which had been in turmoil all along.

It was a very heartbreaking feeling. She seemed to be crying behind her composed face, so he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Towards him, enraptured and out of his wits, the chief of the palace attendants kept complaining as if displeased she couldn’t get his attention again and again.

“Sir Akkard? Or, would you be satisfied if I called you Commander?”

Akkard turned his head reluctantly. Then, as if the chief of the palace was waiting, she poured out her nagging with a stern expression on his face.

“What the hell are you doing here? It’s already time for your audience with the prince. His Highness Heinrich is already waiting inside.”

“… … Magda.”

He sighed and called out her name. Unfortunately, Minister Magda was one of the few women in the Pelmonium who did not like Akkard.

Notwithstanding, Magda was obliged to maintain the virtue and order in the royal family. However, when Akkard was in the royal palace, there was not a single day of rest. It was because of all the noisy political strife waged between his women.

Akkard was cruelly indifferent to a woman once he got tired of them. So, he didn’t even care whether they were supporting each other or fighting each other.

So it ended up being Magda’s responsibility to sort out the messes he caused every time.

‘What’s the big deal about a guy like this?’ [t1v: LAWL Magda is us, the readers]

Of course, it was true that Akkard was capable, earning his place as commander of the Royal Knights and as the right arm of Heinrich, who would become the next king. There was no denying that.

But when it came to relationships and affection, in Magda’s eyes, Akkard was just a child. He had no idea how scary people’s hearts were.

‘Is that girl another victim? Tsk, tsk, poor thing.’

Magda glanced at Damia with sad eyes.

She was definitely one of the most beautiful people she had ever seen. Her unique white skin, red hair, and an icy yet bewitching beauty was striking.

Indeed, even for Akkard, the top playboy in Pelmonium, she was beautiful enough to turn his head.

‘Maybe she’s the Northern Countess?’

As the head of the palace, Magda, had information about the Crown Prince’s audience. She immediately asked Damia softly.

“Are you the maiden of the Primula family?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Lady Damia?”

“Ye-yes, that’s me,”

Damia answered looking slightly nervous. Magda was the first person she met after arriving in the capital. She was concerned about what she would think of her.

‘Does my northern accent sound weird?’

Fortunately, she found her self-consciousness very endearing. From her wide experience of meeting many people, a good person was someone who knew how to be prudent.

“Nice to meet you.”

Unlike when dealing with Akkard, Magda held out her hand in her friendly manner.

“I am Magda Cheston, Chief of the Palace of Pelmonium. I was sent by his Highness the Crown Prince to meet his distinguished guests. If it’s alright with you, please follow me.”

Damia, who hesitated a little, gladly took Magda’s hand.

She was grateful to have someone treat her kindly in an unfamiliar place. Thanks to her consideration, Damia was able to ease her tension.

However, Akkard could not hide his disappointment. He thought as he looked at Damia who had returned to her sharp countenance:

‘Damn it, if only Magda showed up a little later.’

Then, he could have peeked a little bit into Damia’s true feelings that she had been hiding.

Akkard laughed at himself, self-assured, at his unguarded thoughts. What a joke.

Why was he so vexed and suffering, anxiously watching after her mood—wondering after a woman whom he rolled in bed with countless times?