The Concubine Does Not Love the Emperor - Chapter 8.2

The prince mumbled. It was true; he hadn’t had a sip of water since dawn. Thirst was only natural. Hearing his words made Margarite aware of her own thirst as well. A man who had been seated at the edge of the boat seemed to have heard their conversation, as he took a leather waterskin from his bag.

“It might not seem clean enough to you.”

“If you offer it, I’ll gratefully accept and drink.”

Without letting her guard down, she spoke, and the man swiftly pulled out the waterskin and tossed it. Margarite skillfully caught it and handed it to the prince. He drank hastily before passing it to Caterina. She too seemed slightly repulsed by the dirty waterskin, but without a word, she tilted her head back and drank from it, then handed it to Margarite.

After hesitating for a moment, Margarite tossed the waterskin back to the boatmen. They chuckled softly.

“It seems that our noble knight finds this waterskin unclean. But what can we do? There’s nothing cleaner than this.”

“That’s not exactly what I’m thinking. Isn’t it problematic if I drink up all your water?”

Margarite replied while suppressing her thirst. She also longed to drink, but she couldn’t afford to let her guard down until they reached their destination.

“I can share my water if you pay.”

The boatman, who had been dozing off, spoke up. Margarite was about to shake her head, but Caterina gently nudged her.

“Refusing too strongly would be impolite. We’ve been through enough today; you should quench your thirst a bit.”

“Caterina is right.”

Even the prince chimed in, so Margarite couldn’t decline any further. The boatmen remained seated at the end of the boat. Margarite kept an eye on them, wary of any suspicious behavior, as she accepted the waterskin that the boatman had handed her.

As the cool water spread through her body, her vision went dark. Then a heavy impact hit her from behind.

Despite stumbling and losing her balance, she instinctively drew her sword. Amidst the blurred vision, she saw the boatman raise the oar once again, as blood flowed profusely.

“There’s no other choice. We need to make a living too.”

The man’s voice, sounding like an excuse, didn’t register in her ears. As the boatman swung the oar again, Margarite quickly rolled her body, narrowly avoiding the strike. A nauseating smell of bloody iron permeated her mouth. She spat and adjusted her stance.

Rushing towards the boatman with her sword, Margarite tilted the boat, and she lost her balance. The men who had been seated at the rear purposely leaned to the side, causing her to falter. Her sword futilely sliced through the air, barely grazing the boatman’s clothing. In that moment, the portrait of the prince and his bride fell from his pocket, fluttering to the floor. It was a portrait distributed during their wedding. At the bottom, newly added, was a message: “For the discovery, a reward of ten gold coins.”

The boat lurched in the opposite direction, causing Margarite to stumble and fall. She planted her sword on the floor and regained her balance. In the meantime, one of the men approached and kicked her head forcefully.

Her ears rang, and she couldn’t regain her senses. The chuckling laughter made her head throb unpleasantly.

“How many times are you going to get up? Maybe we should just kill her.”

“No. Nobles fetch a high price. We shouldn’t waste it for a penny.”

Amidst this incomprehensible conversation, Caterina screamed, urging Margarite to move aside.

[Protect them.]

It was Klein’s voice. Margarite staggered to her feet. Though her vision was impaired, she swung her sword based on instinct. The swordsmanship teacher from the south had often trained her with a blindfold, teaching her to rely on her senses and instincts.

Even though she couldn’t see, she could sense their movements. She could take on a few amateurs without formal training. She gritted her teeth.

She felt the sensation of cutting through flesh and heard the tearing scream of a man. Then, another dull impact struck her, and her knees buckled.

[As long as you’re alive, we can meet again.]

Klein’s voice sounded vivid by her side. Margarite swung her sword once more. She wasn’t sure if she hit someone or not. Again. Once more, she swung, and along with a surge of anger, a powerful impact reverberated through her abdomen. Acrid bile rose in her throat. Losing her grip on the sword, she collapsed, only to be trampled by the boatmen.

“Don’t touch her face.”

“If any bones break, it’ll be troublesome.” “Let’s hand these two over to the soldiers and sell this bastard. Northern nobles pay well for captives, don’t they?”

The voices of the boatmen rumbled. Her consciousness kept slipping away. She needed to find her sword—if only she had her sword. A hand groping the floor was suddenly stomped on by one of the men. Instead of Margarite, Caterina let out a piercing scream that seemed as if she might tear apart.

Margarite suddenly wondered if Klein might be dead.

As the shocks to her hand ceased, she felt around and retrieved her sword from the floor.

“Still twitching, huh?”

The boatman chuckled, and a blurry figure of someone stumbling towards her appeared.

She swung her sword. It made the sound of cutting through air. Once more. This time, blood sprayed as if the blade had cut flesh. It didn’t matter; she couldn’t see anyway. She swung the sword towards where she heard cursing.

Several times, she felt like she was slashing through thin air, while other times, it seemed like she had made contact.

And then…

“Just kill her.”

With a voice full of anger, a sharp metal object pierced through her abdomen. Her hand grew weaker. She dropped the sword and was instantly trampled again, this time with more cruelty and mercilessness.

[My life belongs to you. I can’t die.]

“Margarite! Get up! Get up! Aaah!”

Behind Klein’s gentle voice, Caterina’s scream pierced sharply into her fading consciousness. She wanted to gather her thoughts, but not even a finger could move. She was still being trampled.

[As long as you’re alive, we can meet again.]

“Please, Margarite! Nooooo, don’t come closer!! Margriiite!!!”

Yes, as long as you’re alive, we can meet again. You and I, as long as we’re alive.

Amidst her fading consciousness, between awe and Caterina’s desperate cries, she glimpsed the latter’s form. That was Margarite’s last memory.