Chapter 55
That evening, the three “carefully selected” guards were presented before the Saint.
The girls were young, and before they arrived, they had been carefully told how to serve the Saint properly. They were warned to watch what they said and did, which left them feeling a bit nervous and on edge.
At this moment, they stood side by side, not daring to lift their heads, fearing that even the slightest misstep might offend the Saint.
However, when they saw the Saint’s gentle smile, she seemed much more approachable than they expected. She didn’t come across as nearly as intimidating as they thought she would.
Her long white hair flowed down, almost blending into her cloak, and even her eyes had a soft, ethereal white tint, adding to her delicate look.
The Saint softly asked for their names, as if committing them to memory. “They all seem like good children,” she remarked to the Second Daughter. “But, as I haven’t had them by my side before, I’m unsure if our personalities will be compatible.”
The Second Daughter responded enthusiastically, “If the Saint doesn’t mind, would you be willing to stay at the Kitagawa estate for a few days and allow them to serve you?”
She followed up with a few more flattering words, and finally, the Saint covered her mouth with a smile and said, “It’s hard to refuse such hospitality.”
She had accepted the invitation.
The estate had already prepared a courtyard for her stay, and the Second Daughter’s smile was so wide it was almost impossible to hide. She promptly instructed her staff to ensure everything was perfectly arranged.
It wasn’t clear if it was on purpose or just a coincidence, but the Saint’s place ended up right next to Wakako and Tsukiyo’s. With Wakako’s sharp hearing, any noise from next door would be easy for her to pick up.
That night, the Saint moved into the courtyard, and three new figures appeared by the carriage, which Wakako noted clearly.
She lowered her head, forcing herself to focus back on the letter in her hand.
With the wedding coming up, there was a lot to handle. But since Miki owed her a big favor, she wasn’t going to let Wakako stress about it and had already taken care of most of the details.
The letter she received today was the menu for the wedding banquet, listing various dishes. Knowing Wakako’s culinary skills, Miki wanted her to review it and see if the dishes were well-coordinated.
Wakako was about to write a reply, but her pen wouldn’t move.
She couldn’t help but glance towards the neighboring courtyard, her gaze lingering.
Especially when the melody of the seventeen-stringed zither drifted over, weaving into a mesmerizing tune that filled her ears, it was as if she were in a dream.
It had been five years since Wakako last heard Miki’s music. She could almost picture the Saint in white, sitting under the moonlight, her fingers gracefully plucking the strings…
But it wasn’t for her, but for the new guards.
The new guards.
After a while, the koto music stopped. It seemed the Saint had summoned them to fetch some small pastries from the kitchen.
One of the guard girls, named Rika, immediately rushed out of the courtyard to obey the order.
Unfamiliar with the Saint’s preferences, she returned with a box full of pastries, ensuring a wide variety to choose from.
But the Saint merely glanced at it and shook her head, clearly not pleased.
Rika, skilled in cooking, asked the Saint about her preferences, offering to prepare something fresh for her.
Everyone knew that the Saint’s daily life was governed by complex rules and rituals, and Rika had mentally prepared herself for this.
But even after hearing those specific requests, she still felt overwhelmed, unsure where to begin.
This was Rika’s first day serving the Saint. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake, or she would bring shame upon the Kitagawa clan!
Standing at the entrance of the courtyard, feeling lost, she noticed that the lights in the neighboring courtyard were still on. Suddenly, she found the courage to knock on the door.
“Lady Wakako…”
The door opened, revealing Wakako looking at the girl’s pleading expression.
“Could you please teach me how to make the pastries the Saint likes?”
After hearing the whole story, Wakako calmly replied, “Yes.”
Rika was overwhelmed with gratitude, carefully memorizing every detail of the recipe Wakako provided. She then rushed to the kitchen and prepared the pastries as quickly as possible, bringing them back to the Saint.
This time, her efforts paid off. The Saint happily ate some of the pastries and praised Rika’s skill, saying that they were exactly to her liking.
However, she added, “Compared to what I’ve had in previous years, it’s still slightly lacking.”
Rika secretly resolved to learn more from Lady Wakako and strive to satisfy the Saint next time.
After that night, not only Rika, but all three girls frequently visited Wakako’s courtyard, seeking her advice on various matters concerning the Saint.
They asked about the Saint’s food preferences, whether she preferred talkative or quiet servants, if they needed to do anything specific while she played the koto, and if there were any particular taboos to be aware of in daily life.
Wakako patiently answered all their questions and specifically advised, “You must be very careful.”
She kindly reminded them, “If you make a mistake, the Second Daughter will surely be displeased. Come to me if you have any problems.”
The girls listened, trembling with apprehension.
While Wakako was carefully instructing the girls, Tsukiyo was listening from the courtyard, unconsciously frowning. She couldn’t help but think that the Saint had quite the commanding presence, even more demanding than previous rulers…
After the girls left, she looked up at Wakako and asked, “Master, I’m afraid those guards won’t be able to serve her well.”
Even Tsukiyo could see that the rules for serving the Saint were exceptionally complex, and the three girls were too inexperienced. If they were given time to be properly trained, it would be a different story, but expecting them to achieve perfection within a few days was impossible.
Wakako nodded. “Yes.”
“Then, Master, are you still going to help the Saint select more guards…?” Tsukiyo questioned, recalling the previous incident with the medicine. It seemed beneath a renowned mercenary to constantly perform such menial tasks for the Saint.
“How can we not help?” Wakako said, “Currently, the other mercenaries all have their own missions and cannot be at the Saint’s disposal. The Saint has no one to protect her.”
“If she stayed in the royal palace, wouldn’t she be safe enough without personal guards?”
Wakako looked down at Tsukiyo and said softly, “Is it really safe within the royal palace? The Queen Consort…”
At the mention of the Queen Consort, Tsukiyo fell silent. She had no retort; all her arguments died on her lips.
Wakako continued, “Although the blame lies solely with the Queen Consort, the entire royal family shares in the consequences. Naturally, this places the royal family in the Saint’s debt. With the queen occupied with the states affairs, it falls to me, as a mercenary, to lighten her burden and do everything I can to make amends to the Saint.”
After hearing this, Tsukiyo’s face flushed with shame. She hadn’t realized that her master had considered things so deeply. Thinking back on her own inexplicable pettiness, she felt incredibly childish.
“I understand, Master,” she said, “I failed to consider the bigger picture.”
No.
In reality, not a single word of it was true.
Wakako silently patted Tsukiyo’s shoulder, suddenly feeling a wave of confusion and uncertainty.
She had always been poor with words. She never imagined that she could speak such grand and hypocritical words in front of the Crown Princess.
The mask of “deception,” worn by nobles and royalty, now seemed to be firmly attached to Wakako’s face, difficult to remove.
All that talk of divine duty and easing the Queen’s burdens…
The truth was, she simply didn’t want to see anyone else by Miki’s side.
The girls were good and diligent, but they would never be perfect. And none of them knew Miki the way she did. How could they ever serve the Saint as she had?
It was one thing for Senryu, who only took care of the Saint’s daily needs within the palace, but these girls weren’t just outside guards. They were expected to play music, prepare the pastries the Saint liked—exactly as it had been back when they lived at the Saionji estate.
Would Miki also ask these girls to feed her pastries with their mouths? Would they end up lying in her bed as well?
Wakako refused to let her thoughts spiral any further. All she knew was that, even if they were no longer master and servant, she would continue to protect the Saint as she always had.
Having been a teenager herself, Wakako understood that at that age, emotions ran shallow, and every thought was written plainly on one’s face.
So yes, Wakako had done it on purpose. She deliberately emphasized the Saint’s preferences to the three girls in great detail, repeatedly warning them to “be extremely careful and not make any mistakes.”
But the more nervous people are, the more likely they are to make mistakes.
Rika was the first to crack under the pressure. She tried her best but simply couldn’t meet the impossibly high standards.
The rules for serving the Saint were written in thick scriptures. No matter how much she memorized and studied, she would always miss something.
When she made mistakes, the Saint always looked at her with a gentle gaze, never saying a word of blame. But it was precisely because of this that Rika felt even more ashamed, wishing she could disappear into thin air.
Perhaps serving the Saint up close was simply not something just anyone could do.
She sought out Wakako outside the courtyard again, tears welling up in her eyes. “Lady Wakako, is there any way I can just stay as a guard outside? I’m really not fit to serve her directly…”
No one wanted to give up on such a rare opportunity, but when Rika surrendered, the other two girls couldn’t help but feel the same doubt creep into their minds.
The girls knelt at Wakako’s door, bowing low and begging her to find a solution for them.
“All right, stop crying.” She motioned for them to stand. “I’ll speak to the Saint.”
That night, Wakako knocked on the door of the neighboring courtyard. She found Miki, dressed in white, seated before her seventeen-string zither. Her fingers hovered lightly over the strings, not yet striking a note.
It was just as Wakako had imagined.
Under the moonlight, Miki raised her eyes slightly. The moonlight reflected on her face, creating a halo of pure white, like a celestial maiden from the moon, breathtakingly beautiful.
She addressed her, “Lady Kitagawa.”
And Wakako returned the greeting with the respectful formality one should use when addressing the Saint, “Lady Saint.”
“Lady Kitagawa, what brings you here so late?”
Miki gently plucked the koto strings, producing a few discordant notes, her tone as distant as if they were meeting for the first time.
Wakako lowered her head. “I have a matter to discuss.”
She explained the situation with the three girls, detailing their request: “They are still inexperienced. They can serve as guards outside the courtyard, but they are not fit to serve you directly.”
Miki listened quietly and gave a soft “Hmm,” seemingly unconcerned. “If that’s the case, then choose others. Find those who are skilled in fighting and can also serve me closely.”
Wakako blurted out, “Senryu is already you closely. That should be enough.”
Their eyes met, and Miki suddenly rose from the bamboo mat, walking barefoot towards her.
“But I don’t think it’s enough.”
She looked down at Wakako, who was still maintaining her bowing posture. “My guards are expected to be capable of everything. Of all people, Lady Kitagawa, you should know that best.”
“I…”
“Besides, who I choose to serve me and how they serve me seems to be my own affair. Even if they were to serve me in my bed, it’s none of Lady Kitagawa’s business, especially since you are about to be married.”
A faint smile played on Miki’s lips, carrying a subtle hint of seduction. Her face was still as fragile and beautiful as a white rose, waiting to be plucked, yet bearing thorns.
Her next words were suddenly addressed with a different title.
“So, is that why you went to such lengths to make those girls give up? Were you hoping to take their place?”
“Little. Wa. ka.”
