Chapter 79
The passage of time on their wedding day, from day to night, and then from night to dawn, was beyond description.
Wakako had always known that a person’s strength or weakness wasn’t determined by their appearance.
Once, a snake as thick as a man’s thigh slithered into the Saionji estate, coiling itself in a corner, hissing its forked tongue.
All the strong and sturdy guards hesitated for a long time before finally approaching to drive it away, but the Saint simply watched quietly, even with a hint of amusement in her eyes.
She ordered everyone to step back and then approached the snake, extending her hand toward it.
From that day on, it became the Saint’s pet.
But later, the snake couldn’t adapt to being kept in captivity and was always listless. The Saint had it released back into the mountains.
Miki clearly understood what it meant to let go, so why couldn’t she do the same with Wakako?
Wakako couldn’t understand.
The Jin clan’s servants brought in hot water and towels for the two to wash up. The voice from behind the curtain was slightly hoarse, with a hint of charm. “You may leave now.”
The servants set down the items and left as instructed.
Wakako naturally didn’t need anyone to serve her. No matter what she’d been through, her years of training allowed her to meticulously groom herself in a short time. But today, she was exceptionally silent, not saying a word.
The person behind the curtain didn’t speak again, but she understood that Miki wanted her to attend to her.
Wakako hesitated for a moment before finally picking up another copper basin and towel, lifting the curtain.
She tested the water temperature with her finger, not too hot, not too cold, just right. The towel was neatly folded, made of soft material that wouldn’t hurt the Saint’s face.
Checking these things had become an ingrained habit.
Wakako dipped one side of the towel in the water and gently wiped it along the contours of Miki’s face, applying just the right amount of pressure. She repeated this three times before considering it complete.
Then she took a willow branch toothbrush and gently inserted it into Miki’s mouth, cleaning her teeth carefully, ensuring that every area was thoroughly cared for.
She was as careful as if she were handling a priceless treasure.
The servants outside knocked again. “Breakfast is ready, Lady Wakako. Would you like to inspect it now?”
Many guests had stayed overnight at the estate. By custom, the hosts should provide breakfast. For nobles, this meal was important—it demonstrated the newlyweds’ regard for their guests.
Wakako didn’t really care, but she finally had an excuse to leave the bedroom for a while.
She didn’t answer, but pushed open the door as if fleeing, without looking back to see Miki’s expression.
Mercenaries had physiques far superior to ordinary people. Even though they had been intimate countless times last night, Wakako’s posture remained upright, showing no signs of discomfort.
But as she sat down, the familiar sensation swept through her body again.
Miki always had a way of making her more sensitive than before. Why did she feel something just because her legs were slightly closer together?
“Please have a look, Lady Wakako.” The servant handed her a list of dishes and placed several small plates on a tray, offering her a taste. “These have all been prepared; we’ve included a sample of each.”
They were all made with the finest ingredients, and the cooking was perfect, but Wakako couldn’t taste anything. She forced down a few bites before nodding to the servant.
The servant nodded. “Understood. It’s about time. Please follow me to the front hall, Lady Wakako.”
The guests were having breakfast in the front hall. Several other servants walked respectfully in front of the veiled bride, leading her to sit beside Wakako.
The veil could cover her face, but these nobles often frequented the royal palace, so there was no guarantee that someone wouldn’t recognize the Saint’s figure. Wakako was restless.
But the bride seemed unconcerned, casually placing her hand on Wakako’s back.
Sharp-eyed nobles immediately noticed and teased, “Newlyweds are so affectionate! Any plans for children soon?”
Such a remark was quite forward. Lady Jin stepped in to smooth things over. “As servants of our Queen, with the kingdom in danger, how can they think of starting a family?”
With that, the others couldn’t say anything more and changed the topic to something else.
Wakako stared at the ancient purple wood table, but couldn’t help but imagine it splattered with blood.
Back then, she was only worthy to serve food to the nobles, but now she could eat with them.
Now, everyone was exchanging pleasantries, congratulating them on their wedding, but not a single word was sincere. The jumbled sounds reached Wakako’s ears.
It hurt so much, she wanted to escape. She felt like she was about to see Young Master Kiyoshi again.
Wakako’s fingers trembled slightly, but the bride’s hand covered hers, hiding the reaction from others. Slowly, the scent of cherries lingered in her breath, seeping into her body, calming her restless mind.
She should have realized during Lady Huo’s birthday banquet—it was impossible for it to have been Miki.
From beginning to end, only Miki could soothe her.
“Don’t be afraid,” a reassuring voice said. “That person is dead. You’re just trapped by your own demons.”
After a long time, Wakako opened her eyes.
She said, “You’re the one who trapped me.”
Miki didn’t know that she couldn’t forget Young Master Kiyoshi, but Miki knew it all too well. When she invited her to the Huo clan estate, was there any other explanation besides deliberate manipulation?
And the nobles in the front hall now, with the Jin clan’s declining status, how could they invite so many people? It was all Miki’s doing.
Miki deliberately watched her struggle, then offered comfort, using this method to tell her that only the Saint could understand and heal her weaknesses.
No one else could.
A low chuckle came from under the veil, unsurprised that Wakako had figured out her intentions. “Yes.”
Miki’s hand tightened around Wakako’s, her icy fingers fitting perfectly against the edge of her palm. Only a sliver of her fingertips was exposed under the sleeve. Just looking at them reminded Wakako of how long those fingers had stayed inside her last night, how many times they had moved in and out.
“Who else could it be but me?” the bride whispered. “If someone else was sitting beside you right now, would their scent calm you? Would they be able to stop you from losing control in front of the guests?”
They couldn’t.
Because of the veil, the dishes in front of Miki remained untouched. She didn’t have much of an appetite either. She leaned against Wakako’s left hand, tired, her grip tightening, tighter.
She said softly, “The peach blossoms are in full bloom now. I want to eat some peach blossom pastries later. You worked hard last night, so don’t make them yourself. But the kitchen staff probably doesn’t know how to make them. Would you go tell them?”
Her tone was intimate and natural, like another master of this manor, acting affectionately towards her wife.
Wakako didn’t speak.
Miki continued, “Are you mad at me? I didn’t really want you to meet so many guests, but mercenaries are valuable… There are always a lot of hangers-on.”
The two whispered to each other, which other nobles noticed, prompting smiles and teasing glances.
When an older noble spoke, Miki stood up and offered a cup of tea, saying something to make him happy. Everyone was amused.
The Saint had lived in this environment since she was a child and was accustomed to dealing with nobles.
No matter if they knew her before or not, everyone thought that “Miki” was a most virtuous Omega wife. She had the status of a mercenary, was well-mannered and understanding, and it was truly a blessing from a past life to be able to marry her.
Even Carol and Albert thought so. While the bride was talking to others, they came over and patted Wakako on the shoulder, winking and asking her if she was getting along well with her wife.
“Miki seemed a bit stubborn before, but now she seems much happier. It seems like your relationship is already quite good.” Carol sighed. “Congratulations, Wakako.”
Wakako looked at Liu Siruo, who was standing behind her masters, her eyes calm as water.
“Senior Sister, may I have a word?”
Carol’s eyes widened, and she exchanged glances with Lin Lin, who was equally puzzled. What was going on?
Liu Siruo had obviously anticipated her questioning and remained calm, not saying anything.
The two of them went to a secluded courtyard next door. Wakako clenched her fists, almost feeling the urge to punch Liu Siruo.
She rarely fought with her teammates because everyone else was weaker than her, and she didn’t want to hurt them. But now, she just wanted to vent her emotions.
Liu Siruo lowered her eyelashes. “It’s true that I’ve been disguising the Saint. If you want to hit me, go ahead.”
Wakako took a deep breath, her eyes reddening. ” I thought we were partners who trusted each other unconditionally. I could trust you with my back… yet you did this behind my back. Do you know the consequences?”
Liu Siruo said nonchalantly, “I know. The Saint told me.”
“What did she say?”
“That being with you would incur divine punishment—she might die.”
Wakako pressed her lips together and swung a fist at her. Liu Siruo could have easily dodged it with her speed, but she just stood there, motionless, letting the fist brush past her cheek, bringing a gust of cool air.
Her junior sister still couldn’t bring herself to hit her.
“And you still agreed?” Wakako said sharply. “If Miki dies, what about the trial? What about Mios? Will dozens of cities die with her?”
Liu Siruo’s voice was louder than hers. “So what? Do we get to live if we win the trial?”
The two locked eyes, both trying to read more from each other’s gaze.
Liu Siruo said slowly, “Wakako, we’re all going to die sooner or later in this life. We might die with the kingdom, or we might die on the battlefield—no one knows for sure.”
“That day, you stood by the stream and told me that you would follow the Saint without regret. Have you forgotten? Why did you say those words, but then you’re the one who wants to leave with regrets?”
Wakako twitched her lips. “But I… might die tomorrow.”
The emotions she had suppressed for so long finally erupted completely. Tears streamed down her face, the “human weapon” who was once praised now seemed as fragile as a newborn baby.
Tears fell into her round dimples, salty and bitter.
“I’m poisoned, Senior Sister. You know that… I’m going to die soon. Why make Miki marry me?”
She had nothing to offer her.
Except for a body that would grow cold in a few days.
Liu Siruo remained silent for a moment, then said, “Didn’t you see the wound on the Saint’s hand last night?”
“That wasn’t from being attacked by the Eagle Kingdom forces… She cut out a piece of her own flesh and boiled it into medicine to feed you.”
“Your poison has long been cured, Wakako.”
