Christina Saw

53

Christina sensed something amiss around the time the early morning meeting concluded.

‘Huh? What’s with the Minister?’

Outwardly, the Minister appeared just as he always did.

No sooner had the meeting adjourned than he wordlessly rose and returned to his office with Celine, and that was that.

But Christina noticed that his steps were subtly heavier.

‘Looks like the others don’t see it.’

Neither the intelligence staff, nor the agents, not even the Owls or Celine herself, seemed to notice anything unusual about the Minister.

It couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t that they were indifferent to the Minister.

Celine kept a close watch on the Minister as much as Christina did.

The Owls were just as sensitive to changes in others as Christina was.

It was simply that Christina possessed both qualities.

She was always watching the Minister, concerned, and, like a top-class assassin, acutely sensitive to changes in others.

That was why she alone could perceive it.

That something was off with the Minister.

‘I don’t have any missions today anyway…’

Hiding naturally in the shadows, so no one would notice, Christina followed the Minister.

Normally, she would have gone directly to the Minister and begged to be assigned as his escort, but strangely, she felt like she shouldn’t do that today.

So, concealing herself in the ceiling of the Minister’s office, Christina quietly observed the Minister as he resumed his work.

‘I’ve thought it before, but it’s a truly abnormal workload.’

The Minister was rapidly sorting through reports and documents piled up like mountains.

He stamped the documents that were useful or would be passed down to subordinates during later meetings, while setting aside those deemed unnecessary.

What was astonishing was that the Minister was classifying the numerous documents accurately without even properly reading them.

‘Like someone who already knew what kind of reports would be coming up.’

Thanks to this, the mountain of documents quickly dwindled, but the Minister’s work wasn’t limited to that.

‘Wow, so many people come to the Minister’s office?’

From Francesca of the guard, to the Imperial Chancellor, to the General of the Imperial Army, all sorts came seeking Ervin’s wisdom.

It seemed Chancellor Erickson came more to probe his intentions than to borrow wisdom, and Francesca seemed to have just used work as an excuse to visit, as she missed him, but either way.

Not only that, but he didn’t forget to go to the Imperial Palace at precisely scheduled times to report important matters to the Emperor.

‘No, I knew the Minister was busy, but this is a bit much…’

It pained her to admit it, but even with Celine’s enormous help from the side, the Minister’s work showed no signs of ending.

It was then, when the Minister had returned to the Intelligence Bureau from the Imperial Palace.

Celine happened to be away, perhaps she had gone to the archives, and the Minister, confirming that no one was in the office, went to sit at his desk and stared blankly into space.

At first, she thought he was just taking a break, but Christina soon realized that wasn’t the case.

‘Minister, are you alright?!’

The Minister’s body was trembling like an aspen.

Cold sweat streamed down his entire body.

His fingernails were digging in from his tightly clenched fist, causing blood to seep out.

His face seemed to drain of color, then his eyes became bloodshot as if they would burst.

Stunned for a moment, Christina belatedly tried to go downstairs, when.

The sound of someone approaching the Minister’s office reached her ears.

The Minister stopped trembling.

It wasn’t a voluntary cessation, but rather a forced and strained one, that much was clear.

He hastily wiped the sweat from his face and the blood from his palm with a handkerchief, and pretended to be reviewing documents as if nothing were amiss.

Immediately after, Celine opened the door and entered the Minister’s office.

“You’ve already been to the Imperial Palace and back?”

“Hm.”

Christina was dumbfounded by the way Celine was casually talking to the Minister.

‘Why don’t you notice! He’s pushing himself! Anyone can see the Minister is pushing himself right now!’

No, that wasn’t it.

It wouldn’t be easy for a third party, even those close to the Minister, to notice anything strange about him right now.

So thoroughly did the Minister conceal his condition.

But Christina was nearly frantic with frustration.

‘His pupils are trembling? Beads of sweat he missed dabbing away are seeping out, staining his shirt? His hand is shaking, and his breathing ragged! How can no one see it?’

Usually, they wouldn’t. Even a doctor wouldn’t notice without a thorough examination.

That’s how subtly the Minister’s distress manifested.

‘Celine, you…!’

Struggling to keep the malice and murderous intent from showing on her face, Christina glared daggers at Celine.

‘You spend more time with the Minister than I do! You’re always glued to his side! You’re the one he favors most!’

She was seething, furious, jealous, consumed by a hatred she could barely contain.

Why couldn’t she see it?

Why didn’t she know?

She couldn’t understand, and she didn’t want to.

As Christina wrestled with her anger, time passed, and it was time for the Minister to return home.

He maintained his composure until the door closed behind him.

But he barely managed a few steps inside before collapsing onto the floor.

“Minister!”

Christina, who had been lurking in the shadows, sprang forth and rushed to his side, turning his prone body over.

He was completely unconscious; he didn’t respond, no matter how desperately she called out his name.

“A doctor, get a doctor…!”

Christina hesitated, against her will, just as she was about to call for a physician.

She remembered how hard the Minister had fought all day to hide his failing health.

“Ugh…!”

Finally, abandoning the idea of summoning a doctor, she focused all her skills on assessing the Minister’s condition.

Her primary occupation was assassin. Even if she wasn’t a doctor, she could tell if her target was dying or not.

‘His breathing is shallow, but not as ragged as before. And he has no fever.’

After confirming these and other symptoms, Christina was certain that the Minister had simply collapsed from overwork. She lifted him into her arms and carried him to the bedroom.

The first thing to do was to change his clothes, soaked through with cold sweat from the entire day.

It would be a lie to say she felt no desire as she undressed him.

But she restrained herself.

She didn’t want to embrace him in this condition.

“Besides, it wasn’t the right time for any of that.”

She wrung out a towel, meticulously wiping away every trace of sweat, then helped him change before easing him straight into bed and pulling the covers up.

He seemed stable for now, but just in case, she decided to sit vigil through the night. She was reaching for a chair to place beside the bed when, without warning, the Minister’s hand shot out and yanked her closer.

“Minister?!”

Startled, but offering no resistance to his pull, Christina crawled under the blanket.

At first, she thought he had woken and drawn her in, but it wasn’t so.

He was still lost in unconsciousness.

*Could it be… is he reaching for me in his sleep?*

Christina’s fleeting hope was quickly extinguished.

The name that tumbled from his lips in that unconscious murmur wasn’t hers, but that of another woman entirely.

“Don’t go… Ariella…”

The shock that ripped through Christina at that moment was indescribable.

It wasn’t just that he’d called out another woman’s name.

The tone in his voice, the way he uttered it, was so achingly tender.

So desolate, it threatened to break her heart.

It spoke of a love so vast and profound, she couldn’t even begin to fathom it.

Everything combined made it shocking because he could express such intense emotions towards anyone.

*…So what if he did?*

She burrowed deeper beneath the covers, pressing herself into the Minister’s embrace.

She held him tightly, her arms wrapped firmly around his body.

It didn’t matter if he mistook her for someone else.

She was the one here, with him, right now.

That alone mattered.

*Dead or alive, I won’t be defeated by some ancient shadow.*

If the shadow couldn’t be erased, she would simply paint over it.

So thickly that the original form was unrecognizable.

Just thickly.

So he could never remember it.

*Because the Minister is mine.*

Enjoying the sweet and pleasant scent that tickled her nose, Christina kept her eyes closed, nestled in his embrace.

—

“…?”

He thought he’d dreamed of her, after all this time, but waking up to find a completely different woman in his arms.

Thankfully, his vision cleared quickly, and he grasped what had happened.

Christina, who had been secretly watching him, must have taken care of him after collapsing upon returning home.

He appreciated the gesture, but…

“Christina.”

“Uungg…”

No use. She was completely out.

He struggled, trying to extract himself from her embrace, but it was futile.

And why was Laplace’s demon being so quiet?

Asleep too, are you?

Just a joke, of course. It was likely because Christina held no intention of harming him, and no direct threat was posed to his person.

Wondering what to do, he subtly turned his head to check the time.

Still early morning, then.

A bit too soon to be getting up.

Resigned, he abandoned his resistance and closed his eyes once more.

It was soft and warm, inconvenient in several ways, but he was able to fall back asleep nonetheless.