A Game Of Chess With A Vampire
Chapter 168: Hurt?

Chapter 168: Hurt?

All the while, Draven was gazing at her in a daze with a fallen jaw.

"I only said that because I thought it was not good for you," he explained subconsciously. "Please stop crying, okay?"

"Does that mean that you will buy more?" Avelina asked.

Draven nodded at her. "Yes. I will, as long as you want it."

"Oh..." Avelina cackled and began to wipe off her tears. "Oh my god, that’s a lot of tears in my eyes."

She stood up from the floor and walked to the sink to wash her mouth and face.

Draven gazed at her as he gradually flushed the toilet. "Why does she cry like she has a tap in both eyes?" He could not ignore the amount of tears that had flowed down her cheeks.

"Do you always cry this easily, Avelina?" He stood up to his feet.

Avelina glanced over at him. "Easily? I don’t understand what you mean."

"Well, your tears were a lot, and it didn’t even take you, um, a few seconds to cry. Aren’t you supposed to feel a deep emotion to cry?" Draven queried, sincerely inquisitive.

Avelina scratched her head in thought.

"Hmm, I believe so. But I was feeling sad when you said no more desserts, so... I think that counts," she replied.

"Is that so?" Draven began to ponder. "I wonder what could be wrong with me. I have felt deeply sad a few times, but I have never been able to cry."

Avelina stared at him and let out a soft breath.

"I am clueless, Draven. I cannot tell why either." She shook her head and walked over to him. "But you shouldn’t let that bother you, okay?" She smiled at him.

"I’m just curious." Draven patted her head and grabbed her hand to leave the bathroom.

——

Released from his punishment, Lumian gripped hold of Ryan, who was hunched over in pain.

His clothing was tattered, and parts of his skin were cut through, although they seemed to be healing.

"Are you okay? Does it hurt too much?" Lumian inquired, genuinely concerned.

Ryan looked at him. He was breathing heavily. "J-just take me to my quarter, please."

Lumian nodded and wrapped his arm around his neck. He carefully walked him to the quarter, and Lancelot, who was standing guard at the door, took over, grabbing a hold of Ryan.

Before Lumian could leave, Ryan said in appreciation, "Merci, frère."

"It’s okay." Lumian smiled at him. "Take care of him," he said to Lancelot and turned around to leave.

Lancelot opened the door of the room and walked Ryan inside. He shut the door behind them and helped him to the chair at the table.

"Young master, is there anything that I can get for you?"

Ryan glanced at him and shook his head. "No, but you may leave. I’d like to be alone."

Without any further talk, Lancelot took a bow and left the room, returning to his post.

Ryan lowered his head. He was beyond infuriated. His blood was boiling so badly that he could commit something he might regret.

"You bastard!" He slammed his balled fist on the table with gritted teeth.

"This must have been what you wanted, is it not?" He was speaking to himself. "Exposing me and getting me punished! Hahaha!!"

He believed that Draven should have played along. It was something he should have done, but of course he didn’t.

"I’ll make you pay for this! You will definitely pay for it until you have gone through the exact same amount of pain that I just went through," he muttered to himself, deeply enraged.

"Young master." Lancelot’s voice sounded. "My lady is here to see you."

Ryan turned his attention to the door.

"Let her in."

Lancelot opened the door, and Natasha walked in. Her head was sloped, and her shoulders were gradually rising and falling, immediately making it obvious that she was sobbing quietly.

"What is it?" As soon as Lancelot closed the door, Ryan questioned.

Without raising her head or looking at him, Natasha mumbled, "I am sorry, Ryan."

Ryan raised his brow at her. "If you want to speak to me, raise your head and stop looking so pitiful. You are not the one who got punished."

Natasha immediately lifted her head and looked at him. "Ryan, I understand that you are mad at me, but I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

"You’re sorry?" Ryan laughed. He stood up from the chair and walked toward her.

"You’re not sorry, Natasha, but you are simply guilty," he said to her. "You are mistaking the guilt that you feel for sympathy! You don’t feel sorry for me, not at all."

Natasha frantically shook her head at him. "No, Ryan, that is not true. I am guilty too, yes, I know, but...I am hurt as well. It hurts me to see you like this!"

"Hurt?" Ryan arched his brow at her. "You are hurt for what reason?"

"Ryan..." Natasha flickered her wet lashes.

"No, what the hell are you hurting for? This was what you wanted! If it were not, you never would have done what you did!" Ryan yelled at her.

"You knew the sort of situation I would be in if you did what you did, but did you care? Of course not! Only you matter, therefore, you don’t care if anyone gets hurt, even if it’s the man that you claim to love, so long as you get what you want! You are a selfish and a bigoted liar. You do not love me, and that is something you must tell yourself as well instead of convincing yourself that you do."

"I do not like your pretense, and the more you pretend to do, the more it hurts. Think about it! Never for once have you done anything with me in mind, Natasha. It’s always me giving and doing everything I can to make you happy."

"You have never for once thought about me or what could make me happy. It is always about you. I figured you didn’t love me, but I thought I could possibly be mistaken and maybe it was just the kind of person you are, but I realized that was not true."