#123. I Also Know That Line Could Not Become Gold
The matter with the Academy was handled smoothly.
The Academy believed my words that I would return, and Count Griff thought I would meekly accept the kingdom’s absurd tyranny.
As for the information guild, which might have suspected I had other schemes, they kept their mouths shut.
But that was only natural. After all, I had spent four years carefully laying the groundwork at the Academy.
If, after all that time, I couldn’t fool a handful of amateurs, then I had been living far too long.
From here on, however, the difficulty level was entirely different—because now I had to deceive His Majesty.
After the graduation ceremony, I returned to the North. I was to come twice a year to pay my respects to His Majesty.
It was the condition His Majesty set when we decided to stop exchanging letters, and I accepted it.
Originally, I would visit the fiefdom during vacations. But since I hadn’t been able to come last winter due to preparations before graduation, I had to at least stop by after graduating.
Still, this visit was different from those before.
In past visits, I only kept my plans quietly in my heart. But now, I had already set them in motion.
Would His Majesty notice something different about me? Would he catch a glimpse of killing intent in my eyes? A hint of aggression in my gestures?
Nervous, I shredded my handkerchief between my fingers.
After years of sword training, my steady hands reduced the delicate silk into a rag.
“Have I kept you waiting long? Forgive me.”
Hearing approaching footsteps, I stuffed the ruined cloth into my pocket.
“No, it’s fine.”
I didn’t claim I hadn’t waited—after all, he surely knew when I had arrived.
“I told you to just rest in your room.”
I had come straight to the reception room upon arriving in the northern estate, without even unpacking.
If I had lazed about in my chambers, claiming I needed to rest, I might have ended up receiving His Majesty there—something I absolutely wished to avoid.
Better to wait endlessly in the reception room than let that happen.
It wasn’t as though I’d be waiting all day anyway.
“That would not be proper etiquette.”
I was nineteen now, and His Majesty was already past twenty.
Even without invoking the rule that boys and girls over seven shouldn’t sit together, it was not the age to meet alone in a private room.
“Haha. You never cared about such things before.”
I only smiled silently. I had never forgotten that His Majesty was courting me.
He was good at lying, after all.
Noticing that I didn’t believe his words, His Majesty changed the subject.
“How was the graduation ceremony?”
“Thanks to you, it went well. Thank you for the flowers.”
“Ah, I wanted to deliver them myself.”
“It’s only a ceremony, nothing more. It’s not as if I were truly leaving the Academy. There’s no need to make such a fuss.”
I worked hard to keep calm.
Until now, I had prided myself on hiding my ambitions well from His Majesty.
But in truth, that was largely because in my previous life, I had no such ambitions.
For decades, even while holding absolute power that could topple nations, I had never grown arrogant.
So who could have imagined that I now harbored the ambition not just to hold power, but to establish an Empire? If I had desired power, wouldn’t becoming the next Empress have been a far more suitable position?
That meant the reason I had managed to deceive His Majesty these past four years was not because of any brilliant acting on my part, but because of his bias.
And if His Majesty ever shed that bias, his keen mind would surely pierce through my schemes in an instant.
That was the one thing I wanted to avoid.
Because if I intended to dedicate my bones to the kingdom, that also meant I had no intention of accepting his courtship.
I had only pretended to accept because it was hard to refuse his request. In truth, my decision had already been made, and I didn’t want him to realize that.
“Ah. Then you’ll invite me when you graduate for real?”
At his playful insistence, I paused to think. If I truly meant to remain at the Academy, how would I have answered?
The answer came quickly—I lowered my gaze with a troubled look.
“I cannot give you a definite answer.”
Deflecting. Even without a proper reply, His Majesty seemed satisfied.
It didn’t seem he had noticed anything strange.
“Very well. We’ll talk again when the time comes. How long will you stay here?”
“Well… the kingdom has issued a summons, so…”
Normally, I would stay about a month each vacation.
To keep things balanced, I ought to do the same now—but I was already engaged in joint operations with Langrisha.
I couldn’t afford to dawdle here.
“I can spare about a week.”
“Hmm.”
His Majesty made a sound that revealed nothing—whether displeasure or resignation—as he popped a cookie into his mouth.
It was the kind of deliberate pause one often used in high society to delay an answer.
“Then shall we go to the capital together?”
“…What?”
At his unexpected words, my eyes widened.
“I cannot give you a definite answer.”
Blanche lowered her gaze naturally, hiding her expression behind her teacup.
Her manner was so effortless that even though it was a common social tactic, it almost looked as though she had genuinely just wanted a sip of tea.
What on earth was going on in that small head of hers?
Melchizedek found himself pondering the same question that had plagued him for decades in his previous life.
Blanche’s guess had only been half-right. He did not doubt her claim about staying at the Academy.
Even in her past life, Baekryeon had devoted herself to study.
While she served the nation, her younger sibling had pursued scholarship and written many books.
In this life too, she had gathered scholars in her palace, built a research hall, and even enrolled in the Academy.
For such a person, wanting to remain at the Academy while refusing his courtship seemed perfectly natural.
There she could escape the pressures of marriage, and reduce the time she spent with him.
It was hard to imagine a better choice than that.
So he did not question that part.
But he did not believe she had no ulterior motive beyond staying there either.
For she was not only free of ambition—she was also a workaholic.
She had worked herself to the bone, all her life.
So much so that he, who valued loyalty above all, had been forced to impose vacations on her.
Could such a woman really be satisfied with idly flipping through musty tomes at the Academy? Melchizedek didn’t think so.
In other words, Blanche had gained trust because of her past life’s conduct, but for that very same reason, she also earned half his suspicion.
“Then shall we go to the capital together?”
“…What?”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
She was certainly more honest with her emotions now than in her past life.
Looking into those eyes, it felt as though he might read every thought in that small, adorable head like words on his palm.
But Melchizedek knew that was impossible. The softness, the transparency—it was only the surface.
Beneath lay the same iron framework as before, hidden under armor.
Unless he shook her hard enough to shatter that armor, he would never see within.
With some regret, Melchizedek smacked his lips.
“My brother and sister-in-law keep pestering me to show my face, you see. And I am a good younger brother, after all.”
Blanche didn’t look particularly pleased but didn’t argue. She still went soft on him.
Melchizedek let a faint smile play on his lips as if it were only because of the cookie, and offered her the remaining half.
“The cook is quite skilled. Why not try it?”
Though it was the half he had broken off, he hadn’t touched it with his lips.
Would she refuse, saying it was improper? Or would she accept this much?
Blanche hesitated briefly, then reached out and took it.
“Thank you.”
She would accept a cookie he hadn’t bitten.
But even though he deliberately held his hand close to her mouth, she didn’t take it with her lips, not even when there were no eyes watching.
Melchizedek saw the line Blanche had drawn between them. But he also knew that line could not become gold.
It was a line he could cross whenever he wished. But there was no need to rush. He had all the time in the world.
“Counting travel time and the days you’ll spend working in the capital, it should come to about a month, don’t you think?”
So he didn’t force the bargain with words. He didn’t insist that fairness required her to accept his proposal.
He stayed quietly on the other side of the line she had drawn, as though it truly were an unbreakable barrier of gold.
“…I came on horseback. If you need a carriage, you’ll have to use one from here.”
Because he knew, in the end, she would be the one to take a step closer.
Melchizedek smiled gently and picked up another cookie.
