Chapter 83
After returning from the spring festival that day, Wakako left the estate alone.
There was a curfew in the capital city; anyone caught sneaking out would be arrested by city guards—unless they possessed exceptional skills like hers.
Ordinary citizens didn’t have such abilities and could only obediently stay at home. Therefore, the temple at night was always deserted, as if devoid of worshippers.
Wakako didn’t go inside. She simply stood alone outside, gazing at the vermilion pillars. She didn’t want to see the face of God, nor did she want to return home to face Miki.
Wait, how did she…
She had only been living there for a few days, yet she was already unconsciously thinking of the estate Lady Jin had given them as home.
She stood there for a long time, long enough to assume Miki probably gone to bed, before finally turning back. But upon reaching the entrance, she realized that no one inside had retired for the night; in fact, the place was brightly lit.
The servants in the residence were all provided by the Jin clan, trained to noble standards. Seeing Wakako, they hurried to greet her. “Welcome back, Lady Wakako.”
Wakako instinctively wanted to ask about the Saint but quickly remembered that their identity swap was a secret. These servants knew nothing about it. She couldn’t mention the words “Saint.”
After a moment, she asked, “Where’s Miki? Has she gone to bed?”
To the servants, this sounded like she was referring to Miki. One of them replied, “Lady Miki hasn’t retired yet. Since returning, she’s been busy having us prepare some things, saying she wants to send them to someone tomorrow.”
The servant led Wakako towards the main hall. From afar, she saw the table spread with numerous small pouches, all bulging with unknown contents.
It was strange. While it was customary for new brides to wear veils for a few days, why wouldn’t she remove it even at home?
Miki was softly instructing the servants, then looked up at Wakako. She seemed to bear no ill will towards Wakako for slipping out, simply saying, “You’re back. Just in time to look at these.”
It was as if their conversation by the stream had never happened.
She gestured at the pouches. “I’ve had them filled with candies, dried fruits, and tea leaves. I was thinking of sending them to the women at the market. See if you think it’s appropriate.”
Being the noblest among noblewomen, the Saint had high standards, and the servants from the Jin clan were meticulous. How could Wakako find any fault?
She glanced down at the pouches. They were bright red—perhaps too flashy for the Saint but perfectly suited to the market women’s tastes. The treats inside were delicate but not overly expensive, everything was just right, so as not to burden anyone.
Miki smiled, already understanding the meaning in Wakako’s eyes. “Then I’ll have them delivered tomorrow.”
Just as she finished speaking, another servant brought over a bowl of medicine. Wakako recognized the familiar bitter scent but couldn’t immediately place it.
The medicine was for Miki, placed right in front of her.
Wakako couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sick?”
Before Miki could answer, the other servants exchanged knowing smiles.
After a moment, an older servant stepped forward and gently reminded her, “Lady Wakako, before an Omega gets married… they usually take medicine to ease discomfort during this period.”
This was already quite explicit, but Wakako still looked puzzled. The younger servants couldn’t contain their giggles.
Finally, Wakako gasped, understanding. “Oh! Omega’s… heat!”
“Exactly,” the servant confirmed.
All Omegas had heat cycles, and the Saint was no exception. In the past, whenever this time came, the family head would assign people to guard her closely, preventing anyone from taking advantage of her. So Wakako had never witnessed it.
Miki was already in heat? But… but she looked completely normal, showing no signs of restlessness or disorientation.
Since they were already discussing it, the servant became even more direct. “Of course, with you here, Lady Wakako, there’s no need for her to take the medicine.”
But Miki said, “I need to take it. Please bring it to my room.”
Her words implied she intended to endure it alone.
Later, Wakako returned to her courtyard to bathe, expecting that Miki might come to her. But even after her hair had dried, there was no sign of her.
Most people around Wakako were either Betas or Alphas; she had no idea what an Omega went through during heat, nor did she know if Miki needed her help. Her mind was a battlefield of conflicting thoughts.
— She probably doesn’t need me. She’s managed before.
— But what if she just endured it painfully before?
— What could I do if I went? Mark her? Don’t forget, the Saint must remain chaste. It’s been this way for thousands of years. If that vow is broken, who knows what terrible things might happen.
— I…
Wakako didn’t know what to do. The Saint had become her wife overnight. Previously, she had desperately tried to push her away, but now she was trapped in Miki’s web, unable to escape. What should she do? What was the right choice?
In the end, she decided to take a distant look. If Miki didn’t need her, she would leave. If she did, then she would decide what to do next.
The small courtyard was close; for Wakako, it was just a few steps away. She stood outside and heard nothing in the stillness of the night.
She slowly approached the window, recalling how they used to gaze at each other through a tiny hole in the window paper. Now, she couldn’t help herself and poked another hole.
The servants had brought bathwater for both of them at the same time. Wakako had finished bathing long ago, but Miki was still soaking in the water. Wakako could vaguely see her back.
Wakako couldn’t help but think: The water must be cold by now. Would she catch a cold like this? Should she have the servants bring more hot water?
But then she noticed something was wrong. After returning to Mios, Miki had been weakened, her hair and eyes white. But now, her hair was black again.
Miki half-turned, reclining in the spacious bath with her side facing the window.
Her cheeks were flushed, the color not yet cooled like the water. She remained motionless. But Wakako could sense that the familiar cherry scent had become somewhat intoxicating.
Stronger than before.
Wakako stood there for a long time, watching Miki without moving.
Though spring was well underway and the weather no longer cold, soaking in cool water was still unwise. The Saint was frail and couldn’t afford to be careless.
She turned to summon a servant to bring more hot water. Outside, the servant explained, The bath has specially built pipes underneath, keeping the water warm at all times. Please don’t worry, Lady Wakako.”
In the past, the Saint had used similar amenities at the Saionji estate. Wakako went back and took another look. Indeed, she had been so focused on Miki earlier that she missed the steam rising from the bath.
That was a relief.
Seeing seemed fine, she felt reassured and was about to leave. But just as she turned, she heard a soft moan from inside.
“Mmm…”
A sound of discomfort.
Wakako stopped. Was Miki unwell? At this hour, all the doctor would be resting. She would have to disturb someone at the palace.
She turned back, and through the small hole in the window paper, the scene inside unfolded before her eyes.
Her gaze locked, frozen in place.
The bath was spacious, and Miki was lying fully immersed. Her delicate feet, seldom touched by the ground, peeked out from the other end of the pool, playfully swaying in the water.
Her eyes fluttered closed, the flush on her cheeks became more pronounced. It was unclear if it was due to the steam.
Wet strands of her long hair clung to her skin, covering the gland at the back of her neck—the most vulnerable spot for an Omega. The proud Saint never exposed this area, not even to her closest servant.
Everything below her shoulders was submerged, but Wakako could see her right hand resting lightly on her body, stirring the water into gentle ripples.
Wakako almost thought she was imagining things.
Was the Saint…?
Another soft moan escaped. Miki bit her own lip, drawing blood but refusing to let go, as if trying to swallow all her shyness.
Her right hand remained submerged, moving subtly along with her body.
Separated by a window she could easily open, the Saint, cheeks flushed, was pleasuring herself in the bath.
Wakako heard her own breathing grow heavier, impossible to conceal. Each time Miki’s right hand surfaced, her heart skipped a beat.
She was a normal Alpha. She wanted nothing more than to enter that room and help Miki through her difficult heat. But she couldn’t.
Being touched by her master and watching her master touch herself were two entirely different experiences. For instance, the Saint hadn’t actually moved her hand to intimate places; she simply bit her lips until they were red, revealing an Omega’s most vulnerable state, beautiful and fragile, like a flower waiting to be plucked.
But no matter how hard she bit her lips, it couldn’t muffle the soft whispers slipping out: “Wakako.”
Miki’s voice was as melodious as ever, only slightly husky. When she called Wakako’s name, it sounded more enchanting than the finest music played on precious instruments.
Soft and yearning.
She called out repeatedly, using various endearments. “Waka, my little Waka.”
She repeated the words over and over, as if she could never tire of them, tinged with a faint reproach
A gentle complaint that, despite being newlyweds, her heartless wife had left her to endure the heat alone. It was truly heartbreaking.
Gradually, Miki’s moans grew shorter and more enticing. The rich scent of cherries intensified, intoxicating like a deadly poison.
Her hand and body rose from the water, fully revealed to Wakako, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Miki whispered softly, “Wakako… mmm…”
Even in her most vulnerable moment, her eyes momentarily unfocused, she still managed to smile—a mix of flirtation and allure.
She was looking at the window.
Wakako remained motionless, still standing by the window.
She knew Miki was watching her. She knew that if she entered, she wouldn’t find a weak Omega in need of comfort, but a Saint who knew no bounds. In the end, it would be Wakako, not Miki, kneeling by the bath, biting her lip to suppress her own cries.
This was just another of the Saint’s familiar traps. If she stepped in, she would lose completely.
But had she ever truly won against Miki?
Miki had known Wakako would come check on her, that she would peek through the window. Wakako had already lost the moment the thought entered her mind.
