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Miki wanted to raise her hand to wipe away Wakako’s flowing tears but had no strength. Her fingertips remained stuck to the blood-soaked scroll, immobile until it drained completely. By the moonlight, Wakako’s blurred vision focused on Miki’s pale face. She hadn’t seen her this weak in a long time. Wakako wasn’t stupid. She recognized the corpse as the Saburo…

Stop talking… What nonsense are you talking about! Wakako knew full well that Miki was teasing her on purpose, praising her to the skies in front of others just to see her blush in embarrassment. Wakako was easily embarrassed, and even with her head hidden, she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks through her sleeves. The craftsmen, who…

Wakako had no idea what their former captain was busy with. She simply continued fulfilling her duties as captain, while occasionally visiting her wife at the palace. Crown Princess Tsukiyo, who had been worn out from days of training, was now showing signs of stress. Whenever Wakako stepped into her chambers, Tsukiyo would immediately push her out: “Master, please, go…

Miki held that strand of the sash. Once unraveled, it was the perfect thickness to bind Wakako’s wrists – not tight enough to restrict blood flow, but just enough to leave a red mark. One strand blindfolding her eyes, one between her teeth, one binding her hands – exactly like something one would only dare imagine in dreams. Wakako knelt…

“What kind of wife stays away from home night after night?” Fueled by alcohol, Wakako finally voiced the grievances she had buried for so long. Alcohol tolerance, perhaps like physical strength, was innate – no amount of practice could change it. Wakako knew her limit, yet she’d unhesitatingly downed half a jar at once. Cowardly? Perhaps. Reckless? Definitely. But without…