LLTEEFM 14

#014. I Could Bet My Left Wrist It Was Absolutely Not the Case

I could bet my left wrist that it was absolutely not the case. For reference, Blanche was left-handed.

But since no one had actually asked her to bet anything, Blanche saw no need to stake something so valuable and simply gave a clumsy smile.

“Haha…”

“Oh, right. By the way, did you know that the Grand Duke’s playmates are treated as quasi-royalty?”

She did. Melchizedek had mentioned it when he proposed their “contract friendship.”

But just the thought that Riana’s eyes—already glittering like jewels—might sparkle even brighter if she heard that made Blanche nervous, so she lied with a straight face.

“Thwat so? (Is that so?)”

“Yep. So, you’ll be moving to a new palace.”

Amid a string of unsettling comments, this one was actually welcome news.

She had been hoping someone would offer a favor just so she could ask to be moved to a different palace. So this was very good news indeed.

Her prime suspect for the assassination attempt was Lady Wishian of Chibecha, who currently shared the Emerald Palace with her. So it had been extremely uncomfortable continuing to stay in the same quarters as someone she suspected might be trying to kill her.

“Well, since you’ll be using a larger palace, I imagine the staff count will also increase. Will you be okay with that? I heard children your age can be shy around strangers.”

Is three even an age where you get shy? Honestly, Blanche couldn’t remember. It had been far too long since her own daughter was that age.

Besides, she had never lived a life—neither in her past life nor this one—that allowed her the luxury of being shy. She had worked with generals whose armies she’d destroyed and people who had nearly brought down her own family.

So instead of worrying about the shyness comment, her attention latched onto another part: “the staff will increase.”

She had been thinking about getting rid of her current personnel anyway. If new staff were added, she could rotate assignments and quietly weed out any spies.

“Yesh, ih’sh ohkay. Thank yhou phor your cowncern. (Yes, it’s okay. Thank you for your concern.)”

Good. She’d secured a practical gain. Now it was time to figure out the real motive behind this kindness. Surely the Empress expected something in return if she was assigning a new palace and extra staff.

The bait came swiftly.

“No need to thank me. If you’re a friend of Melchi’s, you’re practically family.”

From quasi-royalty to “practically family” in 30 seconds—this was a deeply unsettling escalation.

Family. What reason could there be for an Empress of a great empire and a princess of a small kingdom to become like family?

Think about it for a moment, and the answer came easily.

The Grand Duchess.

If Blanche had somehow become a candidate for Grand Duchess, then becoming “practically family” in half a minute made perfect sense.

“Phamily? That’sh too kind of yhou to shay. (Family? That’s too generous of you.)”

Under normal circumstances, Blanche’s concern would have been laughable. A powerless princess from a small country, not even of pure bloodline, adopted from a cadet branch just to be sent off as a hostage, worried about becoming the wife of a Grand Duke?

Even if someone tried to promote the idea, people would shut it down immediately—if not for one thing: the age gap between the Grand Duke and the Emperor.

In Blanche’s estimation, the Emperor and Empress were around 20 years old, while the Grand Duke was five. Both were children of the Dowager Empress, and the imperial couple did not yet have children of their own.

This meant that the current first in line for the throne was the Grand Duke. And if the Emperor and Empress ever had a child, that child’s biggest political rival would be the Grand Duke.

If the imperial couple was already worrying about that and wanted to prepare a countermeasure?

Then marrying the Grand Duke to a powerless girl would be an ideal move. It would strip him of the strongest possible political card—a marriage alliance.

If that was indeed their thinking, Blanche made an excellent candidate. The Kingdom of Lamore might lack power, but it had a long history. And Blanche did carry the blood of Lamore’s royal family.

Even though she was adopted from a cadet branch, she had noble lineage and no political backing. A perfect opportunity dropped in their lap.

‘But that’s adult reasoning. I doubt the Grand Duke himself would see it that way.’

And Blanche had no interest in being paired with someone who disliked her.

“Sshince yhou’re sho kind to me… yhou musht be c’lose to thhe Grand Duke, huh? (Since you’re so kind to me… you must be very close with the Grand Duke?)”

If the Empress’s true intention was really this, then it would be extremely troubling. Blanche hoped she was wrong and tested the waters. Maybe the Empress was just bad at metaphors?

“Well, there is a bit of an age gap. He feels more like a son than a younger brother. He was born around the same time we got married.”

But the answer only confirmed Blanche’s worst suspicions.

Not a biological child, but one who feels like a child.

She knew exactly what that meant. Yi Baek-ryeon had grown up hearing the same words.

That expression is often used for stand-ins—children who are raised as heirs when no real children exist, but must quietly give up their spot the moment a true heir is born.

In other words, the spare.

The Empress, who had solidified Blanche’s suspicions, rose after a little more conversation, saying she had a lunch appointment.

“I’ll send for a physician, so rest well.”

A firm, calloused hand brushed Blanche’s forehead and gently touched her cheek. The smile on the Empress’s face was warm and kind.

But even the kindest people can become cruel when necessary. She didn’t have to look far for proof—she herself had once betrayed everyone to protect her daughter.

People all reach a point where cruelty becomes unavoidable.

“Thhank yhou phor coming. (Thank you for coming.)”

Blanche smiled in return and bowed her head.

After the Empress left, she could hear soft voices—likely discussing personnel matters with Tula.

Blanche flopped to her side and rested her cheek on the pillow, falling into thought.

There was no urgent danger—yet. A spare only becomes obsolete after the real heir is born.

“In the end, all I want… ish for thhe Grand Duke to be happy. (In the end, all I want is for the Grand Duke to be happy.)”

If the Emperor and Empress never had children and the Grand Duke remained heir, then she wouldn’t need to worry at all.

That would truly be the ideal scenario—everyone wins.

But the problem was, she couldn’t stake her future on hope and luck.

“Are you alright, Princess?”

Tula had finished her conversation and returned to check on her.

“What’s wrong? Do you need anything?”

…This was going to be a pain. Preparing for something that might not happen, and no one knows when it will happen, meant having to plan for every possible timeline.

Of course, being a pain didn’t mean it was impossible. Blanche could prepare for this.

“You look really tired. Last time, you said not to stop it on purpose, so I didn’t… but should I have?”

But for her plans to work, she needed something from Tula.

“Tula.”

She tried to speak with authority, but her voice still sounded childishly soft—probably because her vocal cords were still underdeveloped.

“Yes, Princess. What would you like?”

Tula smiled sweetly, showing no sign of tension.

Blanche struggled to force the words out.

“Whhile I resht… copy thhe etiquette book three times. (While I rest, copy the etiquette book three times.)”

“…Sorry?”

Tula’s eyes shook with surprise.

Though Blanche had been teaching her etiquette, this was the first time she had ever demanded study outside those lessons.

But it was unavoidable. Even ten years from now, she’d still be only thirteen. She would need a public face, someone who could act in her stead if needed. And the only one who hadn’t sold her out was Tula.

“I’ll check. (I’m going to inspect it.)”

Tula would have a lot more responsibility for the time being, but once the staff increased, it should get easier. Hoping for that, Blanche drove the point home and lay back down on the bed.

Meanwhile, Riana—who had just dropped a mountain of worries onto Blanche—was walking down the hall with a spring in her step.

—Blanche had guessed correctly. Riana thought Blanche was a perfect candidate to be Melchizedek’s partner.

But the reasoning was entirely different.

Blanche assumed Riana wanted to use her to keep Melchizedek in check. But Riana had made the decision based solely on Blanche herself—her competence.

Blanche’s guts, the way she managed her limited staff with poise, and above all, how quickly she bonded with Melchizedek—those were what impressed Riana.

‘Well, even if I like her, it’s up to Melchi. But the fact he sent her a gift after one day… that has to mean something, right?’

It might seem ridiculous to consider a five-year-old suitable for marriage to a three-year-old just because of a flower gift. But this was Riana—who had first met Berken at five and eventually married him.

Besides, among nobles and royals, even womb engagements weren’t unusual. So to her, a five-year-old and a three-year-old getting engaged wasn’t strange at all.

‘Even if the engagement happens later, I should let people know what I’m thinking.’

Being a Grand Duchess candidate endorsed by the Empress was leagues better than just being a playmate.

So Riana, out of sheer goodwill, decided to make it known that she intended to support Blanche as the Grand Duchess.

If Blanche had known, she’d probably have fainted and not woken up for three days.