#085. Was It Fun Playing With Me?
“Therefore, I shall take charge of this matter. ─ Surely, Your Majesty would also prefer it that way?”
The coercive investigation that Liana was conducting in itself was not the real problem.
As the Empress of the Rtail Empire, she was in a position where she could treat the nobles like vermin if she wished. Even if her actions were nothing more than venting her personal frustrations without reason, it would still be permissible.
The real issue lay in the justification Liana had given: “to uncover the culprit behind the attempted assassination of the Grand Princess Consort.”
Had she conducted the crackdown without reason, it might have passed, but once she invoked such a justification, she was obligated to show progress in achieving it. Yet this was an impossible task.
Because the culprit was Blanche. And they could never publicly reveal that this was all her staged farce.
That meant they would have to fabricate a culprit. But since no such scapegoat had been prepared beforehand, it was only natural that cracks would soon appear, exposing the fact that the one caught was not the true culprit.
And right now, who appeared the most suspicious? None other than Melchizedek.
To the nobles, then, it would look as if the Empress and her son had orchestrated this to apply pressure under the guise of legitimacy.
If it had simply been the Empress venting her temper, they could chalk it up to the tyranny of the class system and endure it. But in this situation, resentment was bound to erupt.
“I also fear, Your Majesty, that Her Imperial Highness might harm her health by worrying excessively.”
And, to make matters worse, this wasn’t even some secret arrangement between them. Liana truly believed she was uncovering the would-be assassin of Blanche.
How could one tell her that a thirteen-year-old child had staged it all?
Besides, who would believe it? Comparing their usual demeanors, it was far more plausible that Melchizedek had orchestrated everything and pinned it on someone else.
Thus, allowing Liana to continue holding investigative authority was problematic on multiple levels. First, Melchizedek was at risk; second, Liana herself would inevitably be endangered.
In short, the two people Verken loved most were the very ones being placed in jeopardy.
“I am grateful for Your Majesty’s consideration. Then, I shall entrust full authority in this matter to you, Mother.”
“Yes, I shall see to it thoroughly, so that His Majesty need not trouble himself further.”
What she meant was: Leave the troublesome matters to me, but don’t even think of exacting revenge on Blanche.
Liana would remain ignorant of Blanche’s scheme. Melchizedek knew the truth but tried to shield her. Lacia herself believed Blanche at least deserved the chance to explain. But Verken? He would not see it that way.
For him, Blanche was detestable for orchestrating something that endangered both Liana and Melchizedek.
Thus, by taking direct control, Lacia managed to honor Melchizedek’s wishes, protect Liana’s political standing, secure Blanche’s safety, and soothe Verken’s temper.
Sometimes, she thought wryly, being the elder in the imperial household was unbearably taxing.
“Then I shall inform the Empress myself.”
With a dazzling smile as though neither the assassination attempt nor the Empress’s rampage had ever happened, Verken rose to his feet. Just before he left the chamber, Lacia asked lightly, without much thought, her voice touching his back.
“By the way—the poison found in Lady Starte’s chamber. Was that your doing?”
Verken’s hand faltered on the door. Turning back, his face bore a troubled smile.
“Mother…”
“Yes?”
“Since there are no listening ears, I’ll be frank. I truly had no hand in that affair.”
“…I see. Very well, you may go.”
Since Verken had no reason to lie to her, Lacia accepted his words.
But the doubt remained. The poison found in Jasper Palace was understandable. But what about the weakened poison discovered in Spinel Palace?
Lady Starte was, politically speaking, the perfect scapegoat.
Especially since she was already under isolation due to the joint-suicide incident.
One could question how someone in seclusion could have plotted to assassinate the Grand Princess Consort—but such doubts could easily be swept away by insisting she attempted suicide only as a ploy to escape suspicion after orchestrating everything.
So, after ordering a thorough search of Spinel Palace, Lacia summoned Melchizedek.
Partly to reassure him that things were under control, partly to let the boy who had cried in her arms before returning to Blanche’s bedside get some air.
“…They found poison of the same kind Blanche drank, in Lady Starte’s chamber?”
When she explained the situation, Melchizedek widened his eyes, sensing the same inconsistency Lacia had.
“Judging from your reaction, you didn’t plant it there yourself. …Then was it really just coincidence?”
The same poison Blanche had stolen in secret had, inexplicably, also been found in Lady Starte’s quarters. It was unsettling, but for now, they could only accept it as coincidence.
Perhaps they should count themselves lucky. Still, as Lacia sipped her tea, Melchizedek tilted his head uneasily.
“If you’re truly curious, shall I question the Lady myself before her execution, just to be sure?”
They didn’t need to fabricate anything—convenient evidence had presented itself. Yet even Lacia found the matter unnerving.
Seeing how concerned Melchizedek seemed, she considered offering him this small indulgence, despite already having done much for him. But the boy shook his head.
“No, it’s fine. If I press her about it, she might seize on that to twist the story to her advantage. ─Better not to. I’ll let it be.”
His face betrayed his unease, but since he insisted, so be it. After all, Lacia hadn’t summoned him to interrogate, but to let him rest a little. So long as he relaxed with tea, she wouldn’t pry further.
Over several hours, they finished a full pot of tea together. Finally, Melchizedek left Sea Palace.
Dismissing the carriage waiting outside, he walked with only one attendant, needing time to think.
Jacheongling knew Yi Baek-ryeon very well. So well, in fact, that sometimes he wished he could split open her head just to see exactly what went on inside.
For all that, Yi Baek-ryeon was a straightforward person. Which meant that, for someone like him who kept nine fox tails hidden in his belly, it wasn’t hard to predict the principles she lived by.
She wasn’t one to take pleasure in false accusations.
That didn’t mean she never embellished. She simply refused to say someone had done something they hadn’t. But altering small details—that, by her standards, wasn’t lying.
What did that mean? If asked to slander Jacheongling as her killer, she wouldn’t claim he strangled her with his own hands. But she might claim he wrote a letter condemning her and urging her to hang herself.
That was Yi Baek-ryeon’s kind of conscience. She wouldn’t turn black into white, but she could place white behind gray, making the gray look darker.
So, if no one had planted that poison—if the discovery of it in Lady Starte’s chamber just so happened to perfectly support the narrative that she orchestrated Blanche’s assassination attempt—
Then it meant Lady Starte had, at the very least, truly attempted such an assassination.
“Ha…”
Melchizedek’s vision went white—not from shock this time, but from something else.
Gods, what was this woman doing to him?
If she meant to make him grieve, then let him grieve. If she meant to enrage him, then let him rage. If she meant to make him happy, then let him be happy. Just one thing at a time!
But no—she made him, all on his own, feel joy, elation, rage, irritation, sorrow, and despair, all at once. That was why, even if he died and was reborn, he would never be able to forget her. Why he ended up groveling so pathetically.
Seething with fury, Melchizedek shoved open the infirmary door.
“Oh my, is something troubling your heart so?”
And the moment he stepped inside, her words only poured oil on his fire.
“…How’s your body? Are you all right?”
But Melchizedek hadn’t lived seventy years for nothing. He swallowed his anger and smiled faintly.
“The palace physician examined me. The antidote seems to have worked well, though I still need to recuperate. As long as I don’t overexert myself, I’ll be fine.”
“I see. ─Post guards. Make sure not a word of this escapes beyond these walls.”
He issued the order to the guard outside, then shut the door firmly behind him.
Knowing the gardens overlooked the chamber, he even drew the curtains. The daylight still filtered through the thin fabric, enough to make out her face.
Holding the curtain in one hand, turning just his head toward her, Melchizedek asked quietly:
“So tell me—was it fun? Playing with me like this?”
