Chapter 130
What if Miki Died? Part 4
“While I was gone… what have you been doing?”
The familiar yet strange voice wrapped around Wakako’s body like a vine, forcing her to give a satisfactory answer.
But Wakako said nothing.
She could only stare, transfixed, at the face that had haunted her dreams countless times.
Miki…
Miki, who was buried in the mountains…
Laid to rest five years ago… how could she be here now, alive, her hand gripping Wakako’s as before?
Wakako wanted to pinch herself hard, to determine if this was dream or reality. But perhaps because the earlier pain had been so real, she’d forgotten she couldn’t normally feel pain.
Even she couldn’t make herself feel pain.
Only one person could.
Her master, the Saint.
As the grip on the necklace tightened, waves of emotion threatened to drown her. After a long moment, she finally spoke the name.
“Miki…”
Her throat was dry, afraid that speaking her name would make everything vanish.
“Is it really you?”
Was this not a dream?
Could she really have the chance to see Miki again?
Or was this just fever-induced delirium?
Wakako studied the face so close to hers. The skin was still delicately pale, features as exquisite as a painting, too beautiful to be human.
But her eyes were different.
Miki’s eyes had once been full of life, her brow arching playfully when she was jealous. She adhered to noble etiquette, even in her sadness, subtly lowering her gaze to conceal her hurt.
Now, Miki’s eyes held only raw desire and possessiveness, clouded with an emotion Wakako couldn’t decipher.
“Why did you get engaged?” she asked coldly, ignoring Wakako’s questions.
The thin silver necklace left red marks on Wakako’s neck.
“Why did you let them put this necklace on you?”
Thunder crashed outside like drums, matching Miki’s increasingly uncontrolled voice, her usually clear tones now sharp in Wakako’s ears.
“Whose name is engraved on it?”
She smiled, but her eyes held no warmth.
“If you lie, I’ll strangle you.”
Despite her delicate appearance, Miki’s grip was surprisingly strong, Wakako’s struggles proving futile.
As the air thinned in her lungs, Wakako felt faint. Miki leaned closer, her lips pressing against Wakako’s, sharing her breath.
Wakako could breathe again.
Only to have it stolen away by Miki’s kiss a moment later.
On the verge of suffocation, her voice trembled, her mind blank. She could only answer numbly.
The words spilled between their lips.
“The Queen… arranged it… Miki…”
Miki seemed even angrier.
Her cold hand tightened around Wakako’s neck. Wakako thought she heard Miki murmur something, but the words were indistinct.
Another question surfaced in Wakako’s mind.
She was burning with fever. Why was Miki’s touch so cold?
So cold it felt like needles piercing her skin, again and again, until she was drenched in sweat.
No, there was something else.
Tears.
Wakako whimpered, trying to call out Miki’s name, tears mingling with the rain that drifted in through the window.
Thunder crashed again, illuminating Miki’s silhouette.
From her expression to her skin, she remained bone-chillingly cold, as if not a drop of blood flowed through her body.
Miki reached out to stroke Wakako’s eyelids, gently closing the eyes that longed to see her more clearly.
…
Wakako drifted back to sleep.
The second time she woke was to Lin Lin and Liu Siruo’s voices. Several hours had passed, and everyone had returned from the banquet.
“Why is there so much water on the floor?” Lin Lin exclaimed. “I’m sure I closed the windows before I left. Senior, are you cold? Don’t catch a cold!”
Liu Siruo found a large cloth and began efficiently cleaning the floor, frowning.
Wakako opened her eyes wearily, noticing the damp floor. Rain had blown in through the window, soaking the room.
She realized her hair was still wet.
Lin Lin rushed to find a towel to dry her face, blaming herself for letting her senior sister get cold. “How are you feeling? Can you get out of bed? Should I call a doctor.”
Wakako slowly shook her head.
Despite being drenched, her cold seemed to have improved. The discomfort had lessened considerably.
She let Lin Lin fret over her with the towel, but when it touched her neck, she instinctively flinched and shuddered violently.
Lin Lin misunderstood it as feeling cold: “Come on, let’s get you out of bed. I’ll make your bed again with thick warm blankets!”
Wakako stood barefoot on the floor, dazed.
Noticing her unusual daze, Liu Siruo, asked, concerned, “Are you alright? Can you speak?”
Wakako didn’t answer.
She just stared at the water stains that Liu Siro hadn’t yet cleaned.
The others had just returned from outside, leaving chaotic wet marks throughout the room. But Wakako, a trained mercenary, couldn’t miss the set of footprints near the edge of the room.
Judging by the footprints, they belonged to a slender noblewoman.
Small, slow steps, perfectly measured, impeccably proper.
And barefoot.
Wakako blurted out, “Where is Miki? She was just here!”
She had wondered if it was a dream, but the footprints before her were proof. Neither Lin Lin, Liu Siruo, nor herself walked that way – only the Saint… only Miki…
Only the Saint had always gone barefoot…
How could she not recognize Miki’s footprints!
Liu Siruo, startled by Wakako’s sudden outburst, squeezed the cloth too hard, water droplets splashing to obliterate the footprints completely.
She had misheard, thinking Wakako was looking for Miki. “Why would your fiancée be here? She was with us at the banquet just now.”
Wakako mumbled: “Not Miki… Miki…”
Liu Siruo couldn’t understand what she was saying and grew worried and confused, wondering if her junior had really gone delirious with fever. The masters knew some medicine – perhaps they should examine her first.
Just then, Lin Lin returned with a huge pile of thick bedding, followed by several others who had come to check on Wakako’s condition.
They began helping to clean the messy room. With mercenary efficiency, they quickly had everything neat and orderly again. The damp bed was transformed, warm and comfortable.
Carol worriedly felt Wakako’s forehead. “Your fever seems to have gone down. How do you feel now?”
Luo Siruo had told her Wakako had been talking nonsense.
But Wakako couldn’t care about that now – she desperately needed to know where Miki had gone. Looking around frantically, her gaze finally locked onto Hua Yumu.
He had been with the mercenaries the longest, only he had seen the Saint before…
“Master!” She suddenly grabbed Hua Yumu’s sleeve. “I saw Miki!”
Hua Yumu stumbled, nearly losing his balance, but Albert quickly steadied him.
Even with his usual composure, he was taken aback, repeating her words to confirm: “You mean the Saint? You know where her body is?”
“No…” Wakako’s breathing was rapid. “I saw her! She was just here! She grabbed my neck…”
Her voice trailed off.
Because when Wakako reached for her neck, she found nothing. It was completely bare.
Where was her engagement necklace?
Hua Yumu frowned. “You’re saying you saw the Saint, alive?”
“Yes!”
The others exchanged glances, their worry deepening. Carol pressed her lips together and suddenly hugged Wakako: “Poor child, what’s happened to you?”
How serious was this illness, that she was really talking nonsense as Siruo had said!
Seeing their expressions, Wakako couldn’t defend herself, saying desperately: “I’m telling the truth!”
But no one believed her.
Hua Yumu looked at her with pity.
He knew of the deep bond between Wakako and the Saint as master and servant, but never expected her illness to be so severe that she still thought only of her.
He gave Lin Lin a meaningful look. The perceptive Lin Lin set down the blankets and quickly left.
If she’s like this, they needed to get a doctor.
Carol and Liu Siruo helped Wakako back to bed, making sure the windows were properly closed this time.
“Just rest for now.”
Wakako heard her own heavy breathing. “I’m telling the truth.” Her voice was hoarse. “I really…”
“Wakako…”
Hua Yumu sighed softly, calmly interrupting her: “The Saint passed away five years ago. She couldn’t have appeared in front of you alive. I think you’re just sick and had a dream.”
Wakako fell silent.
Had everything she’d seen really been just a fever dream?
As the others went to greet the arriving doctor, Wakako suddenly came to her senses. She lowered her head and pulled open her inner robes to look at her body.
No, this was not a dream.
She saw the red marks and fingerprints covering her body, spreading from her chest, as if someone had kissed her, inch by inch.
And touched her, with such force.
