Chapter 53
The date for Wakako and Miki’s wedding was chosen carefully, ultimately set for three months later on an auspicious day.
The news shocked everyone. Those unaware of the circumstances thought their bond must be incredibly deep to consider marriage amid such kingdom turmoil.
No one was more surprised than Wakako’s squad mates. They had long heard her mention wanting to break off the engagement, but they never expected her to ultimately follow the Queen Consort’s arrangement.
On the day the date was chosen, a visibly worn-out Miki stood beside Wakako before the Queen, expressing her gratitude, her joy barely concealed.
She had no idea what had transpired behind the scenes, only thinking that Wakako had finally decided to help her. She was moved to tears, bowing deeply. “I don’t know how to repay your kindness, Senior.”
Outside the palace, Miki spoke to Wakako in a low voice. “Don’t worry, Senior. If you need to meet with the Saint, I can always…”
“I won’t be seeing the Saint,” Wakako interrupted.
Miki was taken aback. “Huh?”
She assumed Wakako had some reservations and wasn’t being entirely truthful, so she reassured her, “You can trust me, Senior. No matter what happens, I will help you cover it up.”
Wakako simply shook her head silently.
As a seasoned mercenary, she had seen her fair share of philandering nobles. Those who cheated on their wives, or those who had multiple wives… all sorts of debauchery.
Their hearts could hold many people, some they might genuinely like, others they treated as mere playthings. But it wasn’t true love.
But Wakako was not that kind of person, nor could she treat Miiki as such.
Her heart was small, with room for only one master. She couldn’t bear the thought of reducing Miki to the role of a secret lover, as if she were something cheap and insignificant.
The Saint should be pure and untainted. Even if Miki promised to help cover it up, even if no one would ever know, Wakako wouldn’t allow herself to tarnish the Saint’s name.
After becoming pregnant, Miki’s physical reactions were severe, and she could barely eat. She had been making excuses to stay secluded, avoiding others.
Now that her marriage to Wakako was set, custom allowed her to temporarily step down from her duties and return home to rest until the wedding, under her parents’ care. As the wedding date approached, they could find a way to deal with the unborn child, which was a great relief to her.
Officially, Wakako was also granted a long leave of absence, with the Queen’s permission to return home and prepare for the wedding.
Home? She was an orphan, with nowhere to go. What home did she have?
Wakako’s official residence was registered under the Kitagawa clan, so that was her only destination.
Of course, she still had a mission to carry out. The imposter “Crown Princesses” had already left the city in separate groups, while the real Crown Princess accompanied her to the Kitagawa household. They too would leave the capital soon.
It had been a while since she last saw the Second Daughter of the Kitagawa clan. She still wore the same insincere merchant’s smile, approaching Wakako with feigned affection. “You seem to have lost some weight, Wakako?”
Then, as if just remembering Wakako’s impending marriage, she chuckled. “Oh, look at my memory. Even if we’re like sisters, it’s not proper to hold hands so casually now.”
The Omega women in the palace were either gentle and refined or dignified and solemn. It was Tsukiyo’s first time encountering someone so blatantly materialistic and direct, and she couldn’t help but be thoroughly astonished.
At this moment, Tsukiyo wasn’t presenting herself as the Crown Princess. Instead, she was disguised as Wakako’s young apprentice, wearing coarse linen clothes and following behind, refraining from speaking out of turn.
The Second Daughter arranged a spacious bedroom for them, more than enough to accommodate three or four people.
She addressed Tsukiyo specifically. “If you need anything, just send someone to let me know.”
The Kitagawa clan had been merchants for generations, and their ability to endure was due to their keen political instincts. Even without definite news from the palace, rumors were rife, and she could easily guess the identity of the young girl before her. Naturally, she intended to foster a closer relationship.
“Oh, by the way, Wakako,” the Second Daughter added, “when the Saint arrives tomorrow, accompany me to greet her, won’t you?”’
The Saint was coming? Wakako frowned. “Why would she come here?”
“To choose guards, of course.”
“Guards?”
The Second Daughter gave a knowing smile. “Yes, surely you understand, even if others don’t?”
The Kitagawa clan were merchants who dealt in all sorts of trades, including the trade of “people.”
They took in homeless children and those from impoverished backgrounds, raising and training them to be sold or gifted to nobles as guards when they were old enough. This practice served both as a gesture of goodwill and a way to infiltrate noble households and gather information on political affairs.
This was the reason Wakako had been taken in by the Second Daughter in the first place. How could she not understand?
“I heard that the Saint is dissatisfied with the guards in the palace. Someone from the palace contacted me, asking me to select a group of individuals to be sent in. I thought it would be inconvenient to send hundreds of people into the palace, so I invited the Saint to choose herself.”
Of course, the more important reason was that a merchant would never miss an opportunity to climb the social ladder. Although the Second Daughter had met the Saint through Wakako before, it had been a long time, and any relationship left untended would fade.
With a sigh, she added, “If you weren’t getting married, I suppose the Saint wouldn’t need to choose anyone else.”
The speaker meant no harm, but the listener took it to heart. The Second Daughter was merely referring to their past master-servant relationship, implying that if Wakako wasn’t busy preparing for her wedding, wouldn’t she be the best guard for the Saint?
However, Wakako interpreted it differently. If she wasn’t getting married…
If she wasn’t getting married, there wouldn’t be anyone else by Miki’s side.
This strange thought flashed through her mind, but her expression remained unchanged. “Are you planning to have the Saint choose from hundreds of people?”
“Of course not. The training masters will filter out those who are unqualified.” The Second Daughter’s eyes darted around before she suddenly said, “But their judgment can’t compare to that of a mercenary. It would be much better if you could help me assess them.”
Tsukiyo, who had been silent until now, couldn’t help but feel excited. She tugged at Wakako’s sleeve discreetly. She rarely had the opportunity to leave the palace, so everything was a novelty to her, and she wanted to witness the selection process.
That evening, the Second Daughter brought the pre-screened groups to the open space behind the manor. These individuals had undergone at least five years of rigorous training within the estate. She was confident that they would be considered elite even within the military.
However, after a single glance, Wakako shook her head. “Bring the next group.”
The Second Daughter frowned in confusion. “None of them are suitable?”
“None.”
The Second Daughter was persistent. Pointing to one of the more promising candidates, she asked, “What’s wrong with this child?”
“He looks too young.”
“This one?”
“Too thin. Not strong enough.”
“Then this one?”
“He’s a man. The Saint doesn’t like men guarding her.”
“Surely this one is suitable?”
“Not tall enough.”
“Her?”
“Not skilled enough with weapons.”
After several rounds of scrutiny, none of the candidates met Wakako’s standards.
The Second Daughter seemed to have realized something. She narrowed her eyes and chuckled. “Wakako, they are just ordinary guards, not mercenaries. You can’t use yourself as the standard.”
“I…” Wakako was momentarily speechless. “I’m not using myself as the standard.”
“Oh really?” The Second Daughter raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been selecting for half a day now, asking for girls, not too old but not too young, not too thin or too fat, strong, tall, skilled with all sorts of weapons…”
“That’s not all. You also want them to be literate, understand poetry, and even be able to paint. How can anyone possibly excel in all these areas? Ask your apprentice.”
Perhaps only one person in the entire world could meet all these criteria.
Wakako looked over at Tsukiyo, who hesitated for a moment before nodding lightly.
“Yes,” she said. “Master seems to be a bit too strict.” Even the Crown Princess, raised in the palace, found Wakako’s standards excessive.
Wakako was silent for a moment as she looked at the young, anxious faces before her, faces that reminded her of her own thirteen-year-old self. At that age, she had not yet become a mercenary, couldn’t read, was clumsy, and couldn’t do anything right, yet Miki had still chosen her.
Yes, they were just guards meant to stand outside. It should have been enough to simply pick a few strong ones, right?
But what if they didn’t only guard the outside? What if they, too, were chosen by the Saint, became close to her, and eventually became a second Wakako?
This possibility made Wakako’s fingers tremble. She didn’t know what to call this feeling. Was it protectiveness?
Yes, it must be protectiveness.
Even though they were no longer master and servant as they once were, her desire to protect the Saint hadn’t changed one bit. The Saint was born noble; how could she allow unworthy guards to be around Miki?
With this thought, Wakako’s gaze hardened. “No, bring the others. We’ll continue.”
She added, “If they can’t pass my test, how could they possibly meet the Saint’s standards?”
The Second Daughter pondered for a moment. She didn’t know the Saint’s temperament as well as Wakako. If Wakako was right, displeasing the Saint would be disastrous. Her cautious merchant instincts ultimately led her to compromise.
Fortunately, the Kitagawa clan had plenty of candidates. No matter how demanding the requirements, they could always find a few who fit the bill.
The Second Daughter leaned in and whispered to Wakako, “The one on the left comes from a fallen noble family and is well-educated and cultured. The one in the middle is a skilled cook, and the one on the right… Is this satisfactory now?”
Tsukiyo nodded in agreement. She had observed them sparring for a while. Their skills weren’t on par with mercenaries, but they were certainly adequate for ordinary palace guards.
Wakako looked at the few flawless candidates, her fingers curling into fists.
She had no excuse to refuse now.
…
That night, Wakako dreamt of the divine wooden statue once more. It was still veiled, but the wind gently lifted the fabric, revealing a glimpse of its cold, downcast eyes.
For some reason, she found them strangely alluring.
God punished her again, whipping her thighs, buttocks, and palms with an invisible lash, demanding to know if she understood her transgression.
What had she done wrong?
Didn’t the God despise her lowly origins? Why did it haunt her dreams every night? Had even God become unlike themselves?
Wakako couldn’t find an answer. After a long silence, she blurted out, “My sin… is allowing others to be near the Saint.”
That emotion, which she called “protectiveness” but was written as “jealousy,” slowly transformed into a black, tainted fluid, seeping through her consciousness.
If she couldn’t have her, then no one could.
