LLTEEFM 12

#012. The Child I Saved for Last, the Child I Protected Until the End

Of course, ten years hadn’t passed overnight—but the poison I thought I’d expelled turned out to be a bigger problem than expected.

A fever spiked overnight, and I was forced to stay in bed, unable to move.

‘It’s definitely not a type that absorbs through the skin. If it were, I would’ve reacted sooner.’

That meant a tiny bit of the poison must’ve been swallowed during the expulsion. Just that small amount was enough to cause this much trouble. How fragile was this body?

Even in disbelief, I was forced to confront the reality of this body’s state.

Just how weak it was. Just how precarious Blanche’s condition truly was.

Until now, I’d acted as if the situation had merely become slightly more difficult, pretending that nothing had really changed. After all, even in my previous life, my circumstances were hardly ideal.

Enemies from rival nations, citizens of conquered lands, fellow vassals of His Majesty, concubines, and at times even people from my own family—they all wanted me dead. Perhaps I was even more surrounded by enemies than Blanche is now. So I thought: why would this life be any different?

But I was wrong. The old Ibaekryeon wouldn’t have been bedridden by a single drop of poison. And she certainly wouldn’t have faced such sloppy assassination attempts to begin with.

In short, even if my mind was still the same, my body wasn’t—I could no longer claim to be the Ibaekryeon of the past.

It was absurd, really, but… it hit me just now.

“Are you all right, Princess? Why are you like this…”

As I bitterly chewed on the helplessness of Blanche, Toula approached and spoke. She laid a hand on my forehead, peering at me with a worried expression.

Her face was filled with nothing but pure concern. Not the kind of worry that stemmed from a fear of failing her duties or breaking protocol—but concern for me, simply because I was unwell.

As if I deserved care not because of what I could do, but because I was me.

Ah. She looks just like Yuhyeon.

With my fever-clouded mind, I saw a different face overlaid on Toula’s.

My daughter.

The child I saved for last, the one I protected to the very end.

“You should eat something… Can you manage a little? Some fruit? Soup?”

Why do people who care for the sick always say the same things? Yuhyeon used to say that too. Even while feeling ill, the familiarity of it made me laugh.

Yes, Yuhyeon had done the same—at the very end. When I had chosen my method and stopped eating.

Food had long stopped being important to me by then. And I think Yuhyeon knew that even if I survived, I’d be of no benefit to her. She had no reason to insist I eat.

And yet, she still worried. She made porridge herself and begged me to take just one bite.

As if my mere existence held value. As if my life meant more than her own safety.

I never understood why. Wasn’t my worth always tied to my usefulness? If my death meant her survival, why worry?

I never understood it. But her feelings were genuine. So much so that, even knowing I had no other choice but suicide, I hesitated—because she worried for me.

And now, Toula was looking at me with that same expression.

“Is the towel too cold? Please, try just a little. Here, ah—”

A cold wet towel on my forehead. Chicken soup. Eyes full of worry. I looked at Toula, who was offering me a spoonful, and asked her:

“Tu-a.” (Toula)

“Yes, Princess?”

“Nega apheung ge singni?” (Do you not like that I’m sick?)

Toula’s eyes widened slightly, then her lashes lowered gently.

“You’re asking something so obvious.”

Her voice held a strange sadness, as if even hearing such a question pained her.

“I don’t want you to be sick. So please, get better soon.”

“I don’t want you to be sick. So please… get better, Mother.”

Her eyes and her voice brought Yuhyeon vividly to mind.

“Geum, neuneun naega jikyeoduma.” (Then… I will protect you.)

The truth was, I had already planned to protect all the attendants around me—even if they leaked information. Not just because I was short-staffed, but even after I gained power and had more attendants.

After all, I already knew where the information was going. I could manage the flow.

But falling sick like this brought back a deep fear. I remembered that time—how I had to give up everything, just to barely save one child.

I feared that day might come again. That I’d once more have to let go of everything, one by one.

So I decided: I would cut ties. I would keep only one child.

Only Toula.

“…Princess?”

There was no reply. Her breathing was steady. In the now quiet room, Toula slowly replayed what she had just heard.

‘Do you not like that I’m sick?’
‘Then I will protect you.’

It didn’t make any sense. Protect? Protect Toula? From whom?

Who would the Princess be protecting her from? And why was it the three-year-old Princess who said those words, when Toula was the one who should be laying down her life to protect her?

There were no visible threats to the Princess or herself.

Toula just couldn’t understand. Other maids had said the Empress adored the Princess. And according to what the Princess confided to her, she had just met with the Grand Duke yesterday.

From what Toula could see, only flower-strewn paths lay ahead for her young lady. So why did she seem so grim—like a general preparing for war?

“Wet nurse, wet nurse, come out here!”

Startled by the whisper—lowered so as not to wake the Princess—Toula jumped in surprise.

“There’s a gift for the Princess! Come check it out!”

A maid cracked the door open, face flushed with excitement. A gift? Right, since the Princess was sleeping, it was her duty to check.

Toula gently stroked the Princess’s forehead and rose from her seat.

Maybe she was overthinking. The Princess might be precocious, but she was still three years old. Perhaps her strange solemnity was just the kind of logic only children understood. It might be nothing at all.

Maybe it was just feverish delirium.

Trying her best to stay optimistic, Toula stepped out of the room.

“A gift? From whom? Did Her Majesty the Empress send it?”

“No! It’s from His Grace the Grand Duke. I don’t know how he knows the Princess, but it’s incredible!”

The Grand Duke? He was the one the Princess had met just yesterday. And now a gift today?

It confirmed what Toula already believed: her young lady was someone cherished by the world.

And it made sense. The Princess had moon-colored hair, snow-pale skin, and eyes dark as the night.

With her doll-like beauty and kind, polite nature—never once complaining about meals—it was no wonder the high-ranking nobles who met her were instantly charmed.

“Alright, let’s see what it is.”

A gift for a three-year-old? Perhaps a doll? Or maybe flowers?

Thinking casually, Toula opened the door—and froze on the spot.

Flowers. Flowers. Flowers. Fresh blossoms everywhere her eyes could see.

“What in the world…?”

The item itself was predictable—flowers were an easy gift idea. The problem was the quantity.

The entire reception room was filled with flowers.

And beyond the opposite doorway—flowers stretched on endlessly. So many that the doors couldn’t even be closed. It was as if someone had uprooted an entire garden and delivered it here.

“Isn’t it amazing?”

Callie’s eyes sparkled with excitement, but Toula felt more overwhelmed than happy. What was all this?

“This is from the Grand Duke?”

“Yes! His men brought and arranged them. I guess when you’re a Grand Duke, even your gifts are this extravagant!”

But… could this be called extravagant, or was it just excessive? Toula stepped forward, trying to peer beyond the doorway. The overwhelming fragrance made her head spin.

Wouldn’t just showing this to the sick Princess make her feel even worse?

As she walked toward the door leading outside, her thoughts full of concern, someone she’d never seen before suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Ah, my apologies for arriving unannounced. I heard Princess Blanche had fallen ill and…”

Golden hair like melted sunlight. Eyes the clear green of emeralds. A fairy-like figure with a dignified posture.

Toula had never seen this face before, but she knew instantly who it was.

Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress of the Empire.