The Only Way to Break the Curse is Through Contact with You - Chapter 80

#80

Diart kept his word until the end.

‘I’ve never done it, but I’m confident.’

I never thought those words could be true. How could he do so well from the beginning? But I suppose there are truly gifted people in this world. Or maybe it’s because he’s the male lead?

I absentmindedly stared at his firm back muscles. It felt oddly frustrating to see him make such effortless movements when I couldn’t even lift a finger.

Unlike the bustling outside, the sunlight streaming deep into the room had completely receded, creating a calm atmosphere. It must have been well past evening, yet it felt like there was still plenty of time left. It only lasted a few minutes before the man, who had been pushing her without stopping, let go.

‘He’s got good stamina.’

I was still catching my breath.

This wasn’t what I had envisioned for our first night. I had imagined an awkward, clumsy night where we’d wake up the next day too embarrassed to see each other’s faces. Above all, contrary to my expectation that I would lead Diart, considering it was his first time, I was the one who was swept away.

‘Of course it was good. It was good!’

I feel like I was deceived.

Diart approached me with a cup of water and helped me sit up. I glared at him as he pressed against my sore waist.

“I told you to stop…”

My throat felt terrible. My throat was parched and dry, and the pain was excruciating. As I grimaced and grabbed my throat, Diart held a cup to my lips.

“Your throat is hurting.”

Who else’s fault could this be?! It wouldn’t have ended up like this if he had stopped when I begged at the end. Even with my angry glares, I didn’t expect Diart’s satisfied smirk to fade. I drank the water without relaxing my gaze.

“Your eyes are going to fall out.”

He seemed amused by my questioning glare. I drained the glass, and then Diart, now picking up the cup, wiped the water from my swollen lips with his fingers.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

Still, there should be a limit for a person! I stared him down with an accusatory furrow in my brow as Diart, his eyes smiling, slipped into the bed. I involuntarily recoiled as his large body pressed against mine. His clinging skin felt threatening. I pulled the blanket over myself, guarding my chest, and watched him warily.

“I’m a person too. I can’t do it anymore.”

Diart said, massaging the back of my neck with his hand. The refreshing look on his face seemed suspiciously too lively for someone claiming to be exhausted, so I narrowed my eyes and stared at him, but soon gave up. I was too exhausted to think straight. My body, which was tormented thoroughly, felt tender, and my eyes, which had shed tears incessantly, were warm.

As I tilted to the side and lay down, trying to remain cautious, a thick arm slipped in between the pillows. His remaining hand hugged my flat stomach. I had to grit my teeth to refrain from reacting to the sensitive touch against my skin. My stomach lurched as I followed the trajectory of his hand.

‘You just said you’re a person too!’

She felt an unfamiliar bulk beneath the hard chest that clung to her back. I was undoubtedly deceived again and again by this beast. While I pretended not to notice the lip that grazed my forehead, I suddenly opened my eyes again. Before this happened, Diart’s earlier words came to mind.

‘I’ve heard that when someone under a curse comes into contact with the opposite sex, a strange energy flows in.’

Earlier, I had been swept away by Diart’s frantic pushes, but now something felt odd. How did this man know that? I couldn’t shake the suspicion that something had happened.

I tried to play it cool and sneakily grabbed the hand that was reaching upward.

“How did you know?”

“What?”

“That I gain energy from touching other people.”

“Ah.”

Based on his short breath that grazed my head, I was certain.

‘This kid is definitely suspicious!’

As I was about to turn away and argue, Diart pressed his chin against my head and lowered his voice.

“I’m the one who should ask. How long were you planning to keep it a secret?”

“I was going to tell you, but the timing…”

“There could have been plenty of opportunities.”

When I first fell under the curse, when I collapsed at the banquet, or even when I revealed my feelings. Diart spoke with a resentful voice.

“Did you mean to run away at any moment you find difficult and take the easy way out?”

The energy surrounding Diart became intensely cold. Following his demeanor, his thing below became even more ominous. His tightly embracing touch left me no room for escape, asserting its presence.

I felt somewhat unjust.

Don’t you remember how much of an asshole you were at first? I couldn’t speak about being cursed, fearing you’d become even more guarded. When you told me I had a terminal illness, you intentionally stopped me from telling the truth!

–is what I wanted to say, but I struggled to control my rapid breath; I had no strength to respond. Feeling like it wouldn’t work, I immediately flexed my legs in an attempt to escape, but Diart’s large hand firmly grabbed my thigh. A low, breathy groan reached my ears.

“You ignored me and went to find the crown prince.”

“Well… I… because he said he would tell me where I could meet other men…”

Diart’s grip on my thigh tightened. The intense sensation caused me to wince at the sharp pain. How many times… mumbled Diart as if chewing each word, then paused as if holding something back.

“Why did you meet the prince then?”

You sure weren’t trying to cheat again, right? I suddenly felt a sense of injustice in the midst of Diart’s chilling interrogation. If he had properly paid attention to or understood my situation, he wouldn’t be upset. I haven’t actually done anything to deserve this kind of criticism!

I wanted to respond, but my throat was frozen, and I couldn’t speak. Instead, I kept my mouth shut, and when I didn’t respond, Diart lifted himself up and climbed on top of me. As he gripped my shoulders, my vision spun. I lowered my gaze to meet Diart’s.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

Diart’s pupils glowed wildly. Though he surely knew the answer, he seemed insistent on hearing it from my own mouth. It wasn’t the attitude of someone who’d consider it fine because it wouldn’t happen again. I had a premonition that if I stayed silent, something big would happen.

“I was exchanging letters with Princess Leticia.”

With just that, he seemed to grasp the situation. Diart’s expression softened noticeably. It was an unusually solemn expression that doesn’t fit for a conversation about the existence of a nation. Since we’re talking about this, I took the opportunity to bring up the subject he had avoided until now.

“Are you really planning a rebellion?”

“Hmm.”

He didn’t clearly affirm it, but Diart’s expression was affirming. His idea of starting a rebellion wasn’t solely because of me and Jarvis. In the original work, he stirs rebellion because of Adelia, but back then, Jarvis had also fallen into darkness, and the confrontation between the two had reached its peak.

In order to find me, who had disappeared, he committed great disrespect towards the imperial family, so there was a possibility that they would retaliate against him at any time. From Diart’s perspective, it seemed wiser to play the game rather than hold off on carrying that time bomb. But according to Leticia, the Emperor’s anger has subsided considerably. If we trust her words, the Emperor won’t persist in a futile fight once he regains his composure. If I could just persuade Diart, everything would be okay.

“When I was kidnapped, if it weren’t for Crown Prince Javis, I would have been hurt badly. Thanks to him, I was able to endure until the end. And if you’re worried about retaliation from the imperial family, Leticia said that wouldn’t happen.”

“That’s annoying.”

I could hear the grinding of his teeth. My lips, which had been ardently praising Javis and the imperial family, abruptly shut up. It was a mistake to side with Javis here.

“It seems just you mentioning his name on the bed would be reason enough.”

With a furrowed brow, Diart pushed himself up and brushed away his disheveled silver hair. Unconsciously, I found myself swallowing at his unapologetically erotic sight.

“I really don’t like it.”

Grumbling disgruntledly, Diart grabbed my calf. His large hand gripping my white calf felt obscene. Without averting his gaze from me, he kissed my calf.

“It seems you’ve forgotten where you are right now.”

Focus. The hand that lifted the calf pressed firmly against the back of my knee as if to chastise me. The stimulation sent a shiver through my thigh. My breath quickened in an instant. Diart glanced at me, and his hand grabbed the bed. And then he cuddled my calf against his waist.

I thought my resolve had weakened, but my eager hand hesitated with anticipation. Diart grabbed it, wrapped it around his neck, and smirked wickedly. It was the beginning of a long night.