LLTEEFM 97

#097. I Like That Part

“It’s the first time we haven’t seen each other this long since you were five, isn’t it?”

Since he was five. A strange way of putting it.

‘Blanche’ and ‘Melchizedek’ first met when he was five years old. In plain terms, it would’ve been more natural to just say it was the first time they hadn’t seen each other in so long.

But to insist on “since five years old”… it could only be interpreted as a hint at their previous life. After all, in that past life there had been countless days, even years, when she couldn’t see His Majesty at all.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

He seemed to want ‘Yi Baek-ryeon’ rather than ‘Blanche,’ so she answered as Yi Baek-ryeon. His brow twitched slightly, as though dissatisfied. Was that not what he wanted?

His Majesty was always difficult. Reading people, responding appropriately—those had always come easily to her.

What was hard for her was being loved, not dealing with people. And yet, with His Majesty, even grasping what he wanted was unbearably difficult.

“I heard you were slapped.”

His fingertips brushed against her cheek, where no trace of the blow remained. In trying not to flinch, she tensed her waist more than necessary.

“It has already healed. I apologize for troubling Your Majesty.”

Truly, there had been no injury left on the surface—just a little redness at most. Even so, his hand that grazed her cheek was gentle, almost cautious.

“That worry wasn’t of your making.”

Perhaps his voice had finally settled after his change of voice; it was low and steady now.

Though different from the past life, the intonation and cadence of his speech carried enough similarity that, when she paid attention, it struck her with uncanny familiarity.

Which meant—

Hearing that voice left her feeling oddly nostalgic.

She hurried her hand, quickly finishing the little food left on her plate.

“If Your Majesty has somewhere to go, I shall guide you.”

“Where you go is where I go.”

The rice she had just eaten felt like it might rise in her throat.

“…In that case, please follow me.”

What else could she do? If His Majesty insisted.

She thought of a place as secluded as possible and led him there. If he would not release her, she at least wished to be free of prying eyes.

Melchizedek had thought, when Blanche led him out of the dining hall, that they’d arrive quickly at her chosen destination.

Given his personality—always preferring brevity—he expected she’d simply find a seat and then bluntly ask why he had come.

But Blanche walked farther than expected. The destination was farther than he imagined, so he tried a frivolous joke.

“Are we going to your room?”

Of course, he hadn’t meant it seriously.

“Dormitories prohibit entry to the opposite sex.”

Well, naturally. He laced his hands behind his head and followed her leisurely.

Her brisk steps made her silvery hair sway with each movement. He found it a little endearing.

In the past life, she had worn her hair long too, but always pinned tightly with hair ornaments.

Always so proper, never the type to chatter first to please her superiors—some things never changed.

When he hadn’t known she was Yi Baek-ryeon, the resemblance had been frustratingly uncanny. But once he realized it truly was her, he began to notice the differences.

And those differences gave him courage.

“You were right, after all.”

Blanche’s unwavering steps came to a sudden halt.

By chance, there was a table and chair nearby. Taking it as her intended stop, Melchizedek sat down easily and spoke again.

Though his ease lasted less than ten seconds.

“The northern wind—it cools the heat of the head—…what are you doing?”

As if his rambling about the north meant nothing, Blanche carefully laid a handkerchief on the chair, then stepped back.

“I cannot let someone of Your Majesty’s status sit just anywhere. Please, have a seat.”

He swallowed a sigh. If this was her way of shutting him up, it worked well.

The playful mood he’d had just moments ago deflated into quiet calm.

And yet the way she stood stiffly, refusing to sit before he did, made him want to tear his hair out.

Knowing her stubbornness in times like this, he irritably sat on the handkerchief-covered chair, then gestured for her to sit.

She, who had been so meticulous in covering his seat, didn’t even bother brushing off her own chair before sitting down—though she still arranged her skirts neatly. The contradiction was absurd.

“…You really are always the same.”

“I suppose I am.”

Even letting barbed words slide off her as if they were nothing.

The resemblance to old times made him laugh before he realized it.

Yes. She had never given him what he wanted, yet the time he spent with Baek-ryeon had always been strangely enjoyable.

When someone so humorless occasionally reacted to his silly remarks.

When someone who only ever spoke out of necessity shared a bit of trivial small talk.

When the face that never showed expression flickered faintly with emotion.

He had liked those things. Perhaps his love had fed on such moments, sustaining itself.

“I like that part of you.”

That was why he said it. Blanche’s eyes widened, trembling as if struck by an earthquake. Her lips stayed tightly shut.

Ah. That was a face he had never seen before. Melchizedek laughed with delight.

“I like that part of you.”

For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

What should she do? Change the subject? Pretend she hadn’t heard? Brush it off with a joke?

“Your expression is amazing. I’ve never seen you this surprised.”

She should have reacted faster. But it was too late. Frozen, she couldn’t avoid his hand as it reached out, brushing her eyelid lightly.

“This face—I’ve never seen it, but I think I’ll like it.”

His hand withdrew, only to return, grazing her lips.

“But your mouth… will you keep it shut?”

Only after his hand pulled away again could she finally speak.

“That is… improper.”

Yi Baek-ryeon and Blanche spoke very differently—of course they did.

Baek-ryeon, who from thirteen bore her family’s burden, and Blanche, a princess who served as a diplomatic buffer between nations—if their speech were the same, one of them would not be doing her duty properly.

Blanche’s way of speaking was softer, more personal, using simpler words that her peers might choose. Whenever possible, she set aside formality.

But what had just slipped out was unmistakably Baek-ryeon’s. And unlike earlier, it hadn’t been intentional. It had burst out unbidden.

Naturally, His Majesty would not miss it.

His eyes narrowed with a smile. It was a free, unguarded look—something he hadn’t shown her, even as a boy in her past life.

Yes. That was why it had taken her so long to recognize him. He was different from the emperor she had known.

She suddenly wondered: was this simply a side of him she hadn’t been allowed to see before? Or had living two lives changed him completely?

“Why?”

His voice was steady, already past adolescence.

He was taller than her now. His hands, strong and firm-boned, yet still retaining some boyish softness.

He looked every bit the youth she had once fallen in love with, sitting before her, pressing her for an answer.

“You are no longer my vassal, nor my husband, nor my lover. You even answered favorably to my proposal. So why is this still improper?”

Her breath came fast. Her heart ached as if bound.

Because bringing up that proposal wasn’t right. He had not given it to Yi Baek-ryeon but to ‘Blanche.’ And she had accepted not his but the Archduke’s proposal.

Worse—back then, the one promise she had asked of him…

She lowered her eyes, not shutting them, just trying to steady her breath.

His Majesty had always been difficult for her, yet she had managed to face him somehow.

If she calmed herself and answered carefully, she could still recover the situation.

But he didn’t give her that chance.

“Baek-ryeon.”

The name on his lips was familiar. Smoothly spoken.

This body’s mouth was shaped differently from her past one—pronouncing her old name should have sounded awkward. She knew from trying herself.

Yet his pronunciation was natural, as though he’d said it hundreds, thousands of times.

There could be only one reason. She couldn’t lift her head.

…You said you wouldn’t love me. You promised. You broke that promise—so that proposal is void.

Something Blanche could have said, Yi Baek-ryeon could not.