Chapter 3
Inside the dungeon, Wakako drifted in and out of consciousness, but she was never fully unaware of her surroundings.
Though she appeared to be covered in blood, only superficial wounds remained. Beneath the surface, her flesh was knitting itself back together with astonishing speed.
This was a testament to the brutal training she had endured in her youth. No matter how harsh the environment, no matter the severity of her injuries, as long as she had a breath left, she could survive.
Insensitivity to pain and resilience were Wakako’s greatest assets.
There was no sunlight in the cell, but based on her mental calculations, this was the fourth day’s sunset.
The door creaked open again, but this time it was the officer she had seen before, accompanied by three or four servants. They carried a large barrel of water, setting it down with a thud that made the already cramped space feel even smaller.
“Clean her up,” the officer commanded the Beta servants, clearly unwilling to linger in the dungeon for a moment longer. “And make sure to deal with the smell. If you displease the Saint…”
The servants obeyed, washing away the blood and grime from the woman’s body. They dressed her in the servant’s robes of an Eagle Kingdom palace servant. They combed her hair and sprinkled her liberally with perfume until she was thoroughly fragrant.
Once this was done, Wakako was stuffed into a carriage, escorted by the officer himself to the Saint’s residence.
…
“Lady Saint.”
A maid stood beside the bed, gently shaking Miki’s shoulder.
The Saint typically rose early but had a habit of taking late afternoon naps. Unless absolutely necessary, the servants would not wake her.
Miki slowly opened her eyes. The maid whispered, “The person the King wishes you to see has arrived.”
In truth, “arrived” was a rather polite way of putting it. At this moment, Wakako was bound tightly, guarded by the officer.
The evening prayer bells rang out as night fell. After the echoes faded, all was silent.
Though blindfolded and gagged, Wakako could still sense the impossibly light footsteps in the stillness.
“Lady Saint,” she heard the rustle of the officer’s clothes as he bowed. “This is the witness, the artist.”
Another voice spoke, “You may go.”
The officer hesitated, saying, “But the King commanded me to assist.” Of course, this was merely a polite way of saying he was there to keep watch.
After a moment, the voice spoke again, “Very well. Bring me the whip.”
Confused but obedient, the officer handed over the whip, unsure of the Saint’s intentions.
Miki didn’t even glance at the “witness.” She simply removed the thick white cloak she was wearing. A servant swiftly caught it, cautioning, “Lady Saint, please be careful not to catch cold.”
She shook her head, indicating she was fine.
Beneath the cloak, she wore a white robe that made her appear even more delicate, like a slender willow branch that could be snapped by the slightest breeze.
It took Miki some effort to grip the whip firmly in her hand. Then, she gently raised it—
Crack.
It landed on Wakako’s back.
Anyone could see that the Saint possessed no strength, yet when the whip struck the wounds, they clearly saw the artist’s body stiffen and convulse violently.
Miki delivered a second lash, then a third. Despite the gag, everyone heard the sharp gasps of pain.
The officer, a battle-hardened veteran who had seen countless prisoners, knew that this kind of instinctive reaction couldn’t be faked.
And the Alpha they were searching for was supposed to be immune to pain.
Miki put her cloak back on. “This is not the person you’re looking for.”
The officer stared in disbelief. “But during the interrogation, she never made a sound.” He had assumed she was their target, merely disguising herself as a Beta through some unknown method.
“It seems you haven’t been performing your duties very effectively.”
Miki looked at him with a hint of pity in her eyes. “I wish to speak with her privately. Do you still wish to stay?”
The officer broke out in a cold sweat, unable to comprehend what was happening.
He had wasted several days, thinking he had accomplished something significant, only to discover he hadn’t even properly assessed pain sensitivity. Now, if the King found out, the consequences could be severe.
Defeated, the officer lowered his head. “I will wait outside. Please call me at any time, Lady Saint.”
Everyone except Miki and Wakako quietly left the room.
The Saint’s lashes wouldn’t be considered harsh by anyone; no one believed she could inflict any real harm.
But for Wakako, the pain was excruciatingly real.
She curled into a ball, trying in vain to shield herself from the agonizing sensation she hadn’t felt in years. Though the whip had only touched her back, the pain shot from her toes to her scalp, lingering without relief.
Being born without the ability to feel pain was a fact, but no one knew about the exception.
Only her master could make her feel pain.
A faint scent of cherries began to fill the room.
A cool hand caressed her cheek, removing the blindfold and gag, then untying the ropes that bound her.
Wakako’s vision returned.
Just as she was about to look up eagerly, a cold voice commanded, “Don’t.”
Those two words were like iron law, firmly restraining Wakako in place. She swallowed hard and whispered, “Miki…”
“Don’t.”
The command was repeated.
Even after all these years, Wakako instinctively obeyed her commands.
Even though they were no longer master and servant.
From beneath the hem of her gown, a bare foot pressed down on the back of Wakako’s hand. It wasn’t painful, just colder than her own skin.
With Wakako’s strength, she could easily break free, but she chose to submit.
Miki looked down, fixing her gaze on the person she hadn’t seen in so long with an indescribable expression.
“You deliberately got yourself captured in the Eagle Kingdom’s palace and left a note,” she said softly. “Did you anticipate that I would come to your rescue? Did you consider the possibility of losing your life?”
“I…”
Miki seemed tired, her breathing slightly labored. “Did I not teach you never to gamble with your life?”
Wakako, never skilled with words, eventually mumbled, “Let me look at you, Miki.”
“No.”
The scent of cherries intensified, causing Wakako’s breathing to become erratic despite the suppressants she had taken. But she couldn’t focus on that now.
“Miki,” Wakako pleaded, her voice low and desperate, “Please… I haven’t seen you in so long. Just let me look at you.”
After a moment, the foot pressing on her hand finally lifted.
Wakako eagerly raised her head, a bright smile instinctively spreading across her face.
The face she had longed to see for so long was once again in front of her.
Wakako was no longer the same person she was five years ago. She had grown taller, and the disguise she wore for her mission made her unrecognizable.
But Miki remained the same as before, still the breathtakingly beautiful Saint. Aside from shedding the last vestiges of her youthful innocence, nothing had changed.
Even the rosy blush on her cheeks remained vibrant.
“You’ve gotten thinner,” Wakako murmured, concern etched on her face. “Are you ill?”
Without hesitation, she gently wrapped her arms around Miki’s leg, resting her head against it. She had so much she wanted to say. “Have you been here all this time? I thought you…”
She couldn’t even bring herself to utter the word “dead.”
Five years ago, everyone had witnessed the Saint’s death with their own eyes. Wakako’s heart had been buried in that coffin alongside Miki’s body.
She had never imagined that they would ever meet again.
Miki should have pushed her away.
She knew that if she commanded it, Wakako would obey.
Her lips parted slightly, then closed again.
She had always believed herself to be strong-willed, yet she found herself allowing Wakako to cling to her.
“My whereabouts are none of your concern,” Miki said calmly. “I will find a way to get you out of here. After that, never set foot in the Eagle Kingdom’s palace again.”
Wakako rose in shock, her face full of hurt.
“How can it be none of my concern?” she asked, her voice thick with sadness. Like a puppy abandoned by its owner, she clung to Miki’s leg, “Don’t you want me anymore?”
If Miki truly didn’t want her, would she have recognized Wakako’s clumsy handwriting so quickly?
Would she have risked her own safety to rescue her?
Miki looked down at her, a hint of divine pity in her downcast eyes.
“You are a member of the mercenary group now… You should be independent, not following me around like a servant.”
A lie.
Wakako stared blankly at her. She wasn’t as intelligent as Miki, but she could sense the lie, even if she couldn’t understand the reason behind it.
It had always been this way since they were young.
Whenever Miki said one thing but meant another, Wakako could see through it, but she could never figure out why.
If only she weren’t so stupid.
“Did the King of the Eagle Kingdom take you by force and keep you here against your will?” In her panic, Wakako’s mind raced through all possibilities. “I… I will find a way to rescue you…”
Miki suddenly raised a hand, signaling her to be quiet.
Wakako immediately fell silent. It was an unspoken understanding between them.
Miki stared intently at her neck. For a moment, the Saint’ perfect expression showed a crack.
“What is this?” she asked softly, her fingers delicately lifting the silver necklace Wakako wore.
The necklace was simple in design, hanging delicately around her neck, almost unnoticeable unless one looked closely. Even then, it wouldn’t attract much attention.
But Miki had noticed.
It wasn’t silver, but another metal with a very similar color, distinguishable only by a trained eye. In the capital of Mios, wearing such jewelry signified engagement.
Her hand holding the necklace tightened slightly as she asked again. “Are you engaged?”
For the first time, Wakako avoided her gaze.
Miki understood.
“Explain,” she demanded. “When did this happen? Who is it?”
Wakako’s heart pounded in her chest. “It was a few months ago,” she explained quickly. “The Queen suddenly decided she wanted to arrange marriages for the mercenaries. Master told me not to refuse directly, saying we’d figure out how to decline later… I haven’t even met the person. I hear she doesn’t want to meet me either…”
She rambled on, unsure if Miki was even listening.
Suddenly, Miki interrupted her.
“What kind of Omega is she? What does she do? Is she beautiful?”
Wakako blinked, then answered honestly, “She’s also a mercenary. Judging by the portrait, she’s very beautiful.”
She saw an expression of hurt, or something else, flash in Miki’s eyes.
Then, she was abruptly pushed away.
This action alone made Miki’s cheeks flush even more. She collapsed into a soft chair, breathing heavily, suddenly letting out a cold laugh.
“Very good, Wakako,” she repeated several times. “Very good.”
It was the first time she had called Wakako by name that night.
The scent of cherries had become overwhelming, impossible to ignore. Wakako couldn’t resist the urge to release her own pheromones, but she feared it might hurt Miki. She could only kneel helplessly in place, gripping her legs tightly.
Why had Miki pushed her away one moment and then bombarded her with her scent the next?
She didn’t understand.
Wakako knew she wasn’t smart, but she wished Miki would just tell her the reason.
She had answered truthfully about her “fiancée,” yet it still seemed to anger Miki.
The Saint smoothed her slightly disheveled gown and turned her gaze back to the Alpha, who was on the verge of losing control.
The word “engaged” had clouded her mind in such a short time that Miki wasn’t quite sure what she was doing.
“Even with a fiancée, you still go into heat for me?” she asked.
Wakako’s skin flushed red. She instinctively tried to move closer to the source of the intoxicating pheromones, but Miki’s bare foot pressed down on the back of her hand, stopping her.
The light, almost weightless pressure was nothing to Wakako, yet it held her back.
“Don’t,” Miki commanded.
Those words carried the weight of a thousand pounds, forcing Wakako to resist her urges.
There was no reason. As long as it was Miki’s order, she would obey.
Miki leaned down, gently pinching Wakako’s cheek. “Don’t bite your lip,” she murmured.
She slipped a pill into Wakako’s mouth, one that would remove the pheromone suppressant.
The faint scent of sunflowers, Wakako’s Alpha pheromone, began to emerge.
“In a while, your scent will spread outside… What will happen if they discover that you’re not only an Alpha, but also someone I know? They’ll probably execute us both.”
Miki spoke as if it had nothing to do with her.
“As long as you obey, I’ll give you the suppressants.”
Wakako was so uncomfortable she was nearly crying, yet she still had to control herself, not to do anything that might hurt Miki. “What… what do you want me to do…?”
Hadn’t Miki just told her to leave?
Miki’s voice was calm, devoid of emotion. “Use my hand to pleasure yourself.”
She offered her right hand to Wakako, her left hand gently stroking Wakako’s face. “We’ve done this before, haven’t we? Don’t be afraid.”
Wakako’s body stiffened. Was she unwilling?
Miki’s grip tightened.
“Or are you thinking about your fiancée?” she asked, leaning in closer, her voice soft and almost hypnotic as her fingertips traced the corner of Wakako’s eyes.
“You said she’s beautiful. Compared to me, who is more beautiful in your eyes?”
“Will you obey her every word like you do with me?”
“Have you thought about me these past few years, Little Waka…?”
Miki revealed a captivating smile, then pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes gradually reddening, as if about to cry s.
Wakako’s heart ached in response.
In the past, whenever she did something wrong, Miki would punish her with tears in her eyes. For instance, when she didn’t study properly or complete her assignments well…
But Wakako didn’t understand what she had done wrong now.
She wanted to answer Miki’s questions, but her mind was teetering on the edge of madness, rendering her speechless.
You’re more beautiful than anyone.
I won’t listen to anyone else.
And yes—every day, I think of you.
A nearby mirror reflected Miki’s face in all its exquisite beauty, but it was as if that perfect mask was now shattering.
In those crystal-clear eyes, only jealousy remained.
This was the real Miki.
Suddenly, Wakako remembered the first time she had met her.
