Chapter 68: His Majesty's Passion (1)

Why? He pondered, why was she alone here crying?'

At night, the royal gardens were deserted, there is no one around. If he had not seen her from his secret hideaway, she would have been all alone.

He could not understand the situation before him, but her fragile voice shook his eardrums and tightened his heart.

'Having a relationship, eventually, we would get married…' she said into the night.

A gentle breeze blew swaying the leaves and flowers under the moonlight.

'You wanted to marry me, and live a life of cherished calm happiness…' her sorrow was delivered to his ears.

Another tear fell her porcelain cheek.

'Even though you said this, Damian…'

Tears kept falling down her face, along her jaw before falling away,

'But why, why did you have to fall for Leticia…?'

Her voice trembled, her eyes filled with more tears. The tears down her face made her cheeks glimmer in the moonlight.

He knew that it was improper conduct for a gentleman to eavesdrop on a lady at such a private moment. It would not do at all. But Ernest could not bring himself to leave, even though he understood he should do so.

He could not bring himself to look away from the crying lady as though she had ensnared him.

The lady kept crying.

Had she intended on crying here? Who was she going to show her tears in this situation? Or was it that she had never intended for anyone to see her?

It could not be.

Ernest was shocked by this realization, his brow furrowed in confusion. Did such a woman exist?

In his twenty-eight years of life, he had never heard or known of a woman who did not cry where others could see her.

Right at this moment, her older sister was crying where there were a large number of guests who could see her, inciting the foolish men's protective instincts. Because of that, her reputation amongst the men would have fallen to the bottom of the abyss. To compete, she had to return to the ballroom and show her tearful face to many men, adeptly.

It was incredible. He could not believe it what he saw with his own eyes.

After all, all he knew was that tears were a woman's weapon. It was used to win the future you wanted. His sisters and many women he had met along the way understood this fact to varying degrees. These women used tears to create situations convenient for them.

But this lady did not.

In this secluded corner of the garden, where there was no one, she was crying by herself in the dark.

'Why? Why not me…?' she whispered into the night, tears still running down her face.

At that moment, Ernest's heart rang a sweet bell for the first time in his life.

How beautiful she was.

It was the first time he had ever witnessed pure tears; his eyes and heart were taken. He wanted to reach out and touch her, see those tears up close, comfort her. He found himself reaching out with his thoughts.

What was this feeling that soared in his chest?

He wanted to keep looking at this beautiful dignified woman.

But he felt strange. He felt like his lower body was aching for some reason. It was a somewhat tight, almost unbearable feeling. It hurt and he felt himself heating up.

Puzzled he looked down at himself to find the source of the strange sensation.