Chapter 47
That night, Wakako had another dream.
This time, there were no lingering feelings of intimacy, only an endless cold. The wooden eyes of the divine statue stared at her with indifference, saying nothing, only observing her from above.
The stare lasted only a fleeting moment before Wakako abruptly woke from her dream.
She felt exhausted and wanted to close her eyes and rest again, but she found that she couldn’t fall back asleep no matter how hard she tried. Though her eyelids felt heavy and her head buzzed with fatigue, her mind remained stubbornly awake.
Wakako thought she was sick, but then a thought flashed through her mind.
Was it the wrath of God?
She quickly realized that this was the taste of divine punishment. After all, she had just sought a prophecy from the divine temple and then went to be with Miki. How could God not be angry?
Wakako leaned against the headboard, never before feeling so acutely aware of her once abundant energy slowly draining away. Yet, just as she was about to succumb to sleep, she would stop, right on the edge. It was a pain that wasn’t quite pain, cutting deeply but still bearable. Because…
Because if she was the one being punished, didn’t that mean that Miki wasn’t?
Wakako gripped the bed tightly, suppressing the groan that threatened to escape her lips.
This state persisted for several days. Despite her best efforts to conceal it, her pale complexion, a result of prolonged sleep deprivation, couldn’t be hidden.
At the horse grounds, Tsukiyo tightened the reins. She could tell that this time, Wakako wasn’t simply distracted. Not only were her eyes slightly swollen, but there were also faint dark circles beneath them, giving her a look of vulnerability.
“Master, are you feeling unwell?”
Wakako managed a slight nod, her body swaying slightly. “I’ll go tell the others to switch… today…”
Tsukiyo was about to respond when her expression suddenly changed. Quick as a flash, she grabbed Wakako’s arm as she nearly collapsed.
“Master!”
Tsukiyo was far weaker than Wakako and nearly fell with her.
Fortunately, there were other servants at the horse grounds who rushed over to help, preventing the nearby horses from being startled and saving both of them from a fall.
The servants helped them sit down, and Tsukiyo frowned, began to suspect something was seriously wrong.
How could a strong mercenary like Wakako faint so easily? Especially since she had been within the palace recently, far from any battlefield or injury.
“Could it be that something is wrong with Master’s health?”
Seeing Wakako’s condition, the servants didn’t need Tsukiyo to elaborate and immediately ran to fetch a doctor.
It took Wakako a few moments to recover. She paused, then said, “It’s nothing serious. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
Wakako fell silent for a moment. Now that the Saint had returned, deeply revered by the people and greatly assisting the royal family and political affairs, the events that had transpired between them were a secret that absolutely could not be revealed.
Everyone knew that the Saint had to remain chaste. Miki couldn’t be tarnished with such a scandal. She had no choice but to lie to Tsukiyo.
“It’s just that I don’t feel pain, so I often don’t realize when something is wrong with me,” Wakako said, her eyes half-closed. “It’s probably best to let the doctor take a look.”
Tsukiyo thought about it carefully. Her words made sense. While pain was unpleasant, it served as a warning sign for the body. In Wakako’s case, she might indeed overlook warnings from her own body.
Soon, a doctor arrived with a medicine box to examine Wakako. He looked her over carefully, checking her pulse and drawing a drop of blood from her fingertip, but he couldn’t find anything wrong.
The doctor looked troubled as he addressed Tsukiyo. “Please forgive my incompetence, Princess… I haven’t found anything wrong. Lady Kitagawa is in good health. Perhaps she simply hasn’t been resting well lately. I can prescribe some mild tonics…”
Wakako had already expected this answer.
Ordinary doctors naturally wouldn’t be able to detect anything. She wasn’t sick in the conventional sense.
The divine punishment, which intensified whenever she closed her eyes, was preventing her from sleeping. Coupled with the demanding training regimen and the time she spent instructing Tsukiyo, even the “Human Weapon” had her limits.
No matter how long a candle burned, it would eventually be consumed by the flames.
“Master, have you not been sleeping well?”
It wasn’t just “not well”; it was complete insomnia.
Seeing the bloodshot eyes and exhaustion etched on Wakako’s face, Tsukiyo urged her to go back and rest, instructing the doctor to prepare medicine for her.
The physician bowed. “Lady Kitagawa, if you feel up to it, perhaps you could accompany me to gather the necessary herbs, and I will show you how to prepare the medicine.”
Mercenaries were accustomed to doing things themselves. They weren’t assigned personal servants in the royal palace, and Wakako wasn’t so weak that she couldn’t manage. She nodded. “I’ll go with you to retrieve them.”
However, she knew in her heart that even if she took the medicine, it likely wouldn’t be of much use.
Tsukiyo watched them leave, feeling that Wakako’s behavior was strange, as if she had become a different person. Something must have happened.
She had a hunch that it might be related to the Saint.
A few days ago, the Queen had visited to see how Tsukiyo’s archery training was progressing, and the Saint had accompanied her. As Tsukiyo’s instructor, Wakako had reacted with uncharacteristic alarm, hastily making an excuse to leave.
Wakako wouldn’t have avoided the queen, so the only reason could be that she was deliberately avoiding the Saint. But why? Weren’t they close, like an old master and servant who had shared a deep bond?
Tsukiyo also recalled that the Queen hadn’t allowed her to attend council meetings recently and had been looking at her with a strange expression. A feeling of unease welled up within her.
She thought—if only she could grow up faster, she would understand the hidden currents swirling around her.
***
“Report—”
A servant rushed into the study, interrupting the ongoing discussion. He whispered something into the Queen’s ear.
The Queen’s face instantly changed color. Without a word of explanation, she stood up and rushed out, leaving the ministers looking at each other in bewilderment.
After a moment, one of them asked the servant, “Was there some urgent military news?”
The servant lowered his voice. “The Saint has been performing a ritual for three days, seeking a message from God… Only the Saint and the Queen are allowed to hear it.”
Upon hearing this, the ministers collectively drew in sharp breaths. Could it be…
Within the palace, there was a special temple dedicated to God, accessible only to the royal family. The statue inside, made of pure gold, was far more magnificent than anything outside.
By tradition, the Queen was supposed to purify herself and fast before being carried to the temple in a ceremonial carriage. But in her haste, she ignored all these formalities, racing to the temple and bowing low upon entering.
“Ruijun.” The white figure kneeling in front of her didn’t turn around, only calling her name as a reminder.
The queen, as if waking from a trance, softly began to chant the hymn of God.
“With pure heart, I serve the divine,
Whose colors match the crimson walls of the divine temple,
I pray for a thousand years of prosperity.”
Only after reciting the prayer did she deeply bow, though she alone knew that her back was now covered in a thin layer of cold sweat.
The Saint still didn’t turn around. She said calmly, “I have received God’s commands, but as the ruler of this Kingdom, Ruijun, you should offer your gratitude personally. Approach now, place your hand in His, and listen to His will with your own ears.”
The Queen rose, striving to maintain the grace and composure befitting a royal, and approached the deity, gently lowering her hand.
A golden light seemed to wash over her.
Miki lowered her head impassively, not sparing the Queen a glance, only counting aimlessly.
One, two, three.
She saw Ruijun’s body begin to tremble.
When she reached the count of nine, the Queen withdrew her hand and abruptly opened her eyes.
The golden light seemed to disappear. He was gone.
“God actually wants… actually wants…” The Queen’s face was ashen, her eyes frosted over. “Why Tsukiyo? Why does it have to be Tsukiyo?”
Her only daughter, the exceptionally talented Crown Princess.
God had initially desired the two kingdoms to wage war like wolves fighting over territory, but the Saint had altered God’s will.
Now, the news had spread throughout the Eastern Continent. Since the original intention of a conflict between the two kingdoms remained unchanged, God hadn’t pursued the matter further, but had issued new instructions.
“There are three trials,” Miki repeated emotionlessly. “The first trial concerns the Crown Princess.”
The current royal families of both kingdoms shared one similarity: a lack of heirs.
The Queen had married only once, to the current Queen Consort, and had two daughters. The eldest was Tsukiyo, the Crown Princess, while the second princess was still a toddler, barely able to walk.
Alva, the ruler of the Eagle Kingdom, had several children, but a cold wave that had struck the Eagle Kingdom a few years ago had claimed the lives of many, including his children.
Only one princess had survived, but it was said that she had never fully recovered and remained sickly. Although she had been named the Crown Princess out of necessity, she was merely a figurehead.
And now, the God’s first trial was set.
—Whichever kingdom’s Crown Princess dies first loses.
This meant that both kingdoms would spare no effort in sending assassins to target the Crown Princess. Once the sole heir was dead, the kingdom’s bloodline would be effectively severed.
Miki finally looked at the Queen. “Ruijun, do you blame me?” she asked. “If it weren’t for me, Tsukiyo wouldn’t have to endure this.”
The Queen was silent for a long time before answering. “No.”
“I don’t blame you.” The vulnerability she had displayed earlier vanished, replaced by the demeanor of a ruler. “Tsukiyo may be my daughter, but my people… they also have parents. They are someone’s children, too.”
If the two kingdoms truly engaged in a bloody war, it would be the people who suffered. They would be displaced, homeless, and forced to endure unimaginable pain.
But this trial concerned only the Crown Princess, reducing the potential casualties significantly. It was the best possible outcome.
Miki suddenly recalled a time long ago, when they had first met. Ruijun hadn’t yet inherited the throne. She was gentle and overly compassionate, shedding tears for the beggars she encountered on the streets and ordering her servants to offer them aid.
She didn’t possess the slightest hint of the authority expected of a ruler.
But perhaps what a ruler truly needed wasn’t authority, but a heart that cared for the people as if they were her own children.
The Queen suddenly called her name. “Miki.” She asked, “You feel the same way I do, don’t you?”
Miki didn’t answer, only smiling faintly. “Sometimes, I wish the Eastern Continent would simply sink into the sea, and we would all perish together. But the Eastern Continent will not sink.”
The Saint hated her own identity, loathed God, the former Saionji clan, and even the royal family… but she didn’t seem to hate them.
Those who had believed her dead five years ago, had spontaneously gathered white flowers to mourn her, filling the entire divine temple.
They were the Queen’s people, and they were also her people.
Even though she wasn’t a competent Saint, they genuinely loved and revered her, rejoicing in her existence.
The Eastern Continent would not sink.
Nor would the people lose their home.
