#124. Like Clothes Soaked in Drizzle
“By the way… if you stop by the capital now and then return to the kingdom, won’t you miss the start of the semester?”
Since he had already secured more time together, there was no need to pressure Blanche right this moment.
Melchizedek swiftly shifted the topic to something that might ease Blanche’s tension.
“That’s all right. My professor was considerate enough to let me postpone enrollment for the first semester.”
Melchizedek watched as the tension slowly drained from Blanche’s shoulders. But her back remained straight.
Her gaze was fixed not on his eyes, but somewhere around his chin.
She sat as far back in her chair as possible without actually leaning on the backrest.
For many reasons, Emperor Jacheongryeong’s reign had often been underestimated in historical texts.
As a result, many historians dismissed him as nothing more than a fool who happened to inherit the throne thanks to a brilliant elder brother, a capable sister-in-law, and loyal vassals.
But Melchizedek had always believed that, even in those days, Jacheongryeong possessed one unmatched ability.
The gift of reading people—discerning their inner thoughts, and manipulating them to his will.
In short, the ability to use people.
In this, he was confident that neither his elder brother, nor his sister-in-law, nor even Baekryeon, could surpass him.
Using that skill, Melchizedek quietly studied Blanche’s demeanor as their conversation unfolded—
the way her head tilted, the strength in the fingers holding her teacup, every little reaction.
“In that case, it might’ve been better to leave it all to me. Or at least to Her Majesty, my mother.”
“I’ve already asked Her Majesty to look after Jasper Palace for five years now. If I have a shred of conscience, I can’t possibly ask her for more.”
She was hiding something—he could tell.
Just as he suspected, Blanche had a second plan. Perhaps her meticulous adherence to propriety played a part too.
But that wasn’t the only reason.
“Aren’t you tired? Sweet things work wonders at times like that. Have some more.”
Her hand flinched when he slid the cookie plate toward her.
Her gaze slid away uncomfortably whenever he met her eyes too intently.
And when he leaned forward across the table, narrowing the distance, her shoulders twitched as though she wanted to retreat—even though there was nowhere to go.
These weren’t just reactions born of scheming.
These were the reflexes of a woman conscious of him as a man.
Melchizedek suppressed a sigh of relief. Blanche still hadn’t stopped being aware of him.
Their engagement had been broken five years ago. At her permission, he had begun courting her again.
And for five years, Blanche had steadily refused his advances.
Anyone else might have been discouraged. But not Melchizedek.
He was a man who had once sustained an unrequited love for fifty years in his previous life.
Five years was nothing—a blink of an eye.
In both politics and in matters of the heart, he was certain he could outlast Blanche.
Like clothes soaking slowly in drizzle.
Simply by keeping him at her side, Blanche would inevitably find her feelings for him growing.
Five years. Ten. Twenty. With each passing year, the tide would tilt further in his favor.
As long as she remained on the board, victory would be his.
His only worry was that the game might overturn as it had in his past life—
when Blanche, to shield herself from his pursuit, took a husband as a shield.
She was a woman who could love him deeply, yet still let reason dictate she marry another and bear children.
So long as no other man entered her life—
so long as she continued to harbor her love for him—
he could wait ten, twenty years if necessary.
After all, his elder brother, the current emperor, was still young and healthy. There was no need to rush into producing heirs.
“…I’m too tired. I don’t have much of an appetite. But thank you for your kindness.”
Fortunately, even at the Academy, Blanche associated with no men save professors decades her senior.
Not that the age mattered—what mattered was that the professors were married.
Either way, in this life, she wasn’t going to suddenly appear before him one day, married and holding a child in her arms.
That was enough.
So long as she remained absorbed in her research, he could rest easy. And since she had once told him he was free to try, she would continue to give him opportunities.
“Haha. To hear you say you’re tired… Very well, I’ll let you go. Go rest properly.”
And precisely because of this, Melchizedek was curious about the second plan she was hiding.
What was it? Would her feelings for him interfere with carrying it out?
Would she receive his courtship during it as she had before, meeting him twice a year? Would her research schedule allow vacations?
Or perhaps, now that Count Griff was finally stirring from his townhouse, she would resume writing letters again?
Indeed, that was one reason he had suggested traveling to the capital together—to see firsthand what her hidden plan was, and whether it might hinder his pursuit.
He rose from his seat, deliberately stepping closer to Blanche.
It was the perfect moment to shrink the physical distance they had maintained since her Academy days.
“Very well, I’ll let you go. Go rest properly.”
His Majesty rose and extended his hand to me.
I instinctively took it, only to startle.
“…You’ve grown taller again.”
The last time I’d seen His Majesty was six months ago.
He had already been grown then. I didn’t think much would change…
But in those six months, his gaze had risen higher still. His hand holding mine was firmer.
Was it my imagination, or had his shoulders broadened too?
Unlike in my past life, I was fairly tall for a woman. My hands, calloused from sword training, were strong.
Because of that, I had never felt much when standing face-to-face with men.
But standing opposite him now, the difference in our stature was undeniable. The feeling was strange.
“So it seems. I thought I’d stopped growing, but I shot up again. I might even surpass my brother.”
Even after standing, His Majesty did not release my hand.
“…I can walk to my room alone.”
“How could I possibly let my lady walk alone? Don’t worry, I’ll be the picture of propriety and stop at your door.”
Hadn’t I always gone to my room alone before? What had happened the very first time, when I didn’t even know which room was mine?
Yes… even then, the butler had guided me. So why now?
I thought the distance between us was too close. His hand, large enough to cover mine completely, felt awkward. I wanted to pull away.
There was no strength in his grip. If I insisted, I could shake it off.
But wouldn’t that only reveal how conscious I was of him?
It had only been half a year since we last met. To show such awareness would look odd.
So, as he guided me, I obediently placed my hand on his arm.
As he led me to the familiar room, I could only hope this was nothing more than one of His Majesty’s whims.
Despite the northern winter, his warmth seeped through. It was too much.
Thankfully, after that, His Majesty maintained proper distance, as he had during his last visit to the north.
But once I’d noticed, I couldn’t stop being aware of it—
that our eye levels no longer matched, that his hands were firm.
“We’ll have a carriage, but we needn’t stay cooped inside. I prefer to ride.”
Thank goodness for that.
I disliked carriages anyway, but the thought of being shut in a small space with him made my head spin.
Especially when I had something to hide from him.
“What if I suggest stopping for a hunt along the way?”
His lighthearted joke was strangely welcome—it showed how tangled my thoughts were.
“Then while Your Majesty hunts at leisure, I shall ride on ahead to the capital and make preparations.”
“Haha, stronger than a refusal. A pity. I’ll save the hunt for another time.”
Considering the last hunt had ended in disaster, it was baffling he hadn’t tired of them.
Perhaps because it was Hu Yaje who drank the poison.
As I muttered inwardly, His Majesty chuckled.
“I can see you now as clearly as if you were here before me—how you came to the north every time.”
What was that supposed to mean? I tilted my head in puzzlement as he slackened the reins.
“You never once fell ill. Come now—let’s go more slowly this time. Take in the sights as though it were a journey, not just a trip.”
A sightseeing trip? That made little sense.
But since he had decided to slow down, I had no choice but to do the same.
