LLTEEFM 87

#087. The Only Lingering Attachment and Conscience

“…I may have gone a little too far.”

Melchizedek eventually gave up on continuing the conversation and returned to his palace. Blanche, after undergoing a second round of examinations, lay gracefully on her bed, quietly reflecting.

Of course, even if time were rewound and she were given another chance, she knew she would act exactly the same. Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t admit to herself that she had been at fault.

‘He’ll be quite busy from now on, so at least I’ll have fewer chances to see him.’

She had committed the grave crime of threatening her liege as a mere vassal, but Melchizedek would nevertheless work to protect Blanche’s reputation.

He would make sure no unnecessary rumors spread, ensuring that Blanche would not be disregarded wherever she went.

‘Not that it really matters to me if I’m looked down on.’

She meant it. Yi Baek-ryeon had once endured far harsher gazes while holding government office—why would she now be afraid of being treated as nothing more than a political pawn?

How many years had it taken for the one scorned as a silent traitor to climb to a position just below the ruler himself? She couldn’t even clearly recall when it had become impossible for others to openly suppress Baek-ryeon.

But she did remember one thing: in the end, she had succeeded.

Besides, Blanche’s future lay in the academy, where political strife was relatively mild—it would be much easier.

‘Ah. Speaking of the academy, perhaps I should come up with a reason for His Majesty not to attend.’

Originally, Blanche had planned to enter the academy together with Melchizedek.

But after realizing his true identity as Ja Cheongneung, she no longer had any intention of studying alongside him.

If they both entered together and appeared amicable, the clear line she had drawn between them would blur all too easily.

Since Melchizedek was focused on salvaging her reputation, perhaps she should prepare an excuse herself. Rather than fabricating a reason for him to stay behind, it would be easier to make it seem perfectly natural for Blanche—no longer the Grand Duke’s fiancée—to attend alone.

Maybe she could frame it as part of “academic exchange.” Perhaps she could even bring along a few scholars with recognized reputations as lecturers.

“You are always like this.”

While pondering her next moves, Blanche suddenly heard the echo of Melchizedek’s pained voice from earlier in her mind. Her hand, neatly resting on her chest, flinched.

“…No. I’ve changed.”

More precisely, it wasn’t Yi Baek-ryeon and Blanche who were different, but the woman before she was abandoned by Cheongneung, and the woman after.

The old Yi Baek-ryeon would have followed the proper path—begging on her knees for him to annul their betrothal. And more than half of her reasoning would have been out of consideration for Cheongneung’s political standing.

She would have circled around endlessly, never aiming for a clean break—knowing full well that her actions would wound Melchizedek.

But now she was different. If Melchizedek couldn’t feel that change, it only meant that the loyalty she had offered in her past life had never truly reached him.

Which was crueler, she wondered? Blanche gave a bitter smile and closed her eyes. Unlike when she had been unconscious, real sleep now began to wash over her.

Taking a nap wouldn’t change much anyway…

While Blanche and Melchizedek were rolling their karma from their past lives into an even larger snowball, a man who never looked back at the past was on his way to meet a woman who had forgotten hers.

“Liana.”

Berken knocked cheerfully on the door of the underground torture chamber where Liana had secluded herself.

The mingling scent of blood and screams seemed the last place where such lighthearted knocking should exist.

“Mm, wait just a moment.”

A voice rang brightly from within—so bright it felt as though speaking cheerfully in a torture chamber ought to be forbidden by law.

After only a short while, Liana appeared.

“What is it, Berken? Isn’t it still before mealtime?”

Her voice was lively, her eyes clear. If only she weren’t standing in front of a torture chamber, the sight would have been almost charming.

Truly—it was time to redirect her attention elsewhere. Gently, Berken placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her away. Since it was Berken, Liana allowed herself to be led without protest.

“We’ve found a prime suspect, Liana.”

“What? Who is it? Bring them here immediately—”

She looked ready to dash out herself and drag the suspect back. Berken firmly grasped both her hands to stop her, then called her name again.

“Liana.”

“Yes, Berken.”

Her eyes were clear, but he knew he couldn’t let his guard down. After all, Liana had been conducting torture, interrogations, and investigations with those very same bright eyes.

Until now, Berken had deliberately left Liana alone.

So long as she was absorbed in tormenting others, she had no time to pay attention to useless rumors—and thus would remain unaware of suspicions surrounding Melchizedek.

He wanted to avoid, at all costs, a situation where Liana doubted Melchizedek, even for a single moment. Nor did he wish her to learn the truth of the matter.

He especially didn’t want her to discover that the girl she doted on so dearly was, in fact, someone who would willingly drink poison if necessary.

So Liana was meant to pour her energy into irrelevant matters. Once the stage was prepared, she would simply fall for the script they presented her.

When the perfect falsehood was ready, even if she heard suspicions about Melchizedek, she would not waver.

That was why Berken had endured the political risks of allowing her free rein until now—to keep her distracted.

But now that Lacia had arranged a false culprit, it was time to rein her in.

“This case will be handled by Her Majesty, the Empress Dowager.”

Liana stepped back slightly, though she did not pull her hands away.

“You said you’d hand me the authority over the investigation.”

Carefully, so it didn’t sound like an excuse or seem rushed, Berken answered immediately.

“The suspect apprehended is Lady Starte. By procedure, it will go more smoothly and quickly if the Empress Dowager oversees it.”

He had a logical explanation prepared, but he knew logic wasn’t enough. Before Liana could voice emotional resistance, he swiftly blocked that path as well.

“Her Majesty cherishes Princess Blanche dearly. There’s no way she’d treat this matter lightly. You trust her, don’t you?”

Of course, Lacia would never lose her reason over Blanche being poisoned, unlike Liana. Lacia was chillingly rational—frighteningly political.

If she handed down a harsh sentence, it wouldn’t be out of affection for Blanche but purely for political gain: because Lady Starte had long been a nuisance to the imperial family, or because it was a chance to display imperial majesty and reinforce royal authority, or to reassert dominance over neighboring countries that were starting to lose their awe of the Empire after ten years of peace envoys. Or simply to prevent Liana from rejecting the verdict and delving back into the case.

But Liana, who still hadn’t come to fully understand Lacia even after ten years of marriage, accepted Berken’s words without question. No, even if she had known better, she would have believed them—because it was Berken speaking.

Just as Berken cared for Liana, Liana trusted Berken. She knew he would never deceive her with ill intent.

So she swallowed the resistance that had almost risen and obediently accepted his suggestion.

“In that case… may I ask a favor of Her Majesty?”

“Of course. I’ll deliver it myself.”

Liana beamed and squeezed Berken’s hands tightly.

“Take as much time as necessary, but please ensure the culprit receives a death sentence. Don’t consider the fact that it was only an attempted murder or anything like that.”

That would be impossible… considering the true culprit was Blanche herself.

Berken thought so, but wisely kept the words to himself.

“Very well. I’ll guarantee that in the Emperor’s name.”

The “real culprit” would sink into obscurity, but the official culprits would be sentenced to death.

All conspiracy theories would lack proof, and both Liana and Melchizedek would receive the outcome they desired.

Thus Berken made Liana a promise—a promise he would never break.

The Trial of the Attempted Assassination of Blanche Roa Vandalouine, Peace Envoy of the Kingdom of Lamore concluded with the joint execution of Lady Starte and Young Master Mastera.

Of course, the execution of Young Master Mastera—who hadn’t even known of my existence when the real assassination attempt had occurred—had nothing to do with me.

I hadn’t wanted it, nor had I fabricated evidence to bring about his death.

All I had done was ensure that punishment fell where facts already existed.

For example, moving the poison preserved for ten years into Lady Starte’s chambers—the same poison she had once used to spike my cup. Or visiting the protesting lady and telling her that the net of heaven may seem wide-meshed, yet none escape its snare; that this was merely her past sins returning to her, and she should accept it.