#153. That Girl?
Melchizedek tapped the armrest of his chair instead of answering.
Riana didn’t press for a response; she simply remained seated. Yet, she didn’t avert her gaze either.
“Why do you think that?”
Her voice was calm, smooth, as if there was nothing strange about the question at all.
“Because…”
Riana’s voice, too, was composed, unaffected. It didn’t suit someone who had just asked such a puzzling, secondhand question.
“If there wasn’t some time I was unaware of, Blanche wouldn’t have any reason to avoid you like this.”
Riana’s remark pierced straight to the heart of the matter.
People’s relationships are hard to know, but the distance between Melchizedek and Blanche had grown so abruptly… and it hadn’t closed in years. Usually, one would just dismiss it as some conflict they weren’t aware of and move on.
“Maybe I… spoke carelessly?”
Melchizedek frowned and gave a wry smile.
Yes. He shouldn’t have casually brought up past lives in front of Riana, who was perceptive and sharp.
Of course, at that time, he didn’t know that Blanche was hiding such a plan. But still, it was a slip of the tongue. Melchizedek admitted that.
“Melchizedek.”
Riana gave a troubled smile, as if it were she who felt awkward.
“If you don’t want to, just tell me to stop. If you do, I’ll stop thinking about it right here.”
Melchizedek glanced out the window. He wasn’t the type to hesitate at drawing an answer, but today, making a choice felt unusually difficult.
Was it the other person’s problem? Or the topic? Or maybe the situation itself?
Did he really have the ability to solve Blanche’s problem? Could he make her happy—or at least keep her from being unhappy—when she didn’t even realize she was unhappy?
After an unusually long pause, Melchizedek finally spoke.
“Do you believe in past lives?”
“If you say there is one.”
The reply was immediate. How could someone respond like that so effortlessly?
Melchizedek forced a bitter smile. Perhaps it would have been better if the memories had remained with Bercken and Riana instead. If they were Ja Hongwon and Yeon Noksa, if they remembered their past lives, they wouldn’t have hesitated. They could have succeeded perfectly this time.
But why him and Blanche?
“At that time… I… wronged her.”
No matter how much he questioned it, the memories remained only for Melchizedek and Blanche. Two people who had seemingly had everything but had never lived the lives they wanted. People who struggled just to avoid unhappiness, and in the end, became truly unhappy.
So Melchizedek decided to seek advice—from someone who, though dead without achieving their goal, had lived pursuing what they wanted until their final moment.
“That girl?”
Instead of asking what she had done wrong, Riana returned the question.
Taken aback by a question he had never considered, Melchizedek shrugged his shoulders.
Baekryeon—what about her? Did she not do anything wrong? Was everything between him and her solely the fault of Cheongneung?
“…She didn’t try to be happy.”
Since seeing Baekryeon’s corpse, he had tried as much as possible not to dwell on that part. It seemed pointless. What use would it be to argue right and wrong with someone who had escaped through death and ultimately defeated him? He couldn’t list all her faults and question her.
This didn’t change even after he realized Blanche was Baekryeon’s reincarnation. She had always had that choice. She hinted at it during the poisoning incident. Once something happened, it could happen again. If he made a mistake again, she could use a method to secure absolute victory. To her, his life had always been a means to an end.
Arguing about faults with such a person would only mean a swift defeat.
So he always reflected on his own mistakes. What should he have done here, what should he have done there… Better, different, choices he could have made. Only the things he could control.
But Riana’s question broke that constraint.
Had Baekryeon done nothing wrong? No.
And was Blanche now repeating the same mistake? Yes.
Then what was that mistake?
It was that she didn’t care about her own happiness at all.
“She’s beautiful, of good lineage, well-educated, competent. She can do anything. Her mind is strong; she’s not easily swayed by others’ opinions. She faces danger without hesitation. She can cut off her emotions if necessary.”
He had never seen anyone in a condition more suited to happiness.
She wasn’t of low status, nor stupid, and she had a broad perspective. She wasn’t afraid to lose anything. If she had truly wanted to be happy, no one could have stopped her.
Yet, she didn’t try. She willingly bore the heavy burdens others imposed and grasped nothing for herself. She even rejected the things he tried to give her.
Why? Melchizedek felt a weight settle in his chest, a frustration he hadn’t felt in years.
Did she dislike war? She did. But why gather the people to shed blood for meaningless glory? He could never understand.
Was it bothersome to manipulate bureaucrats or nobles? Yes. Even though he was skilled at it, doing something well and enjoying it were different. Calculating words and actions among countless people, considering chain reactions—it was tedious even for him.
Yet, he wanted to ask her: Did she really like war? Did she really like ruling? If the prosperity of the state weren’t her duty, would she still have sought expansion so desperately? Was the life she wanted really the life of a ruler?
But she couldn’t even understand his questions. She treated what she could, what she should, and what she wanted as the same thing. If she didn’t want to do something, it was as if she had abandoned her duty.
Melchizedek exhaled in frustration. A sorrow that felt like anger welled up inside him. All because of Riana’s single question: Hadn’t that girl done anything wrong?
He had always been the one more at fault, so he could never get angry. To do so would feel like diminishing his own mistakes.
He had to control himself.
“I must show that I reflect and won’t repeat my mistakes. That Blanche will never flee by the easiest way again. That I’m always ready to lose without being forced to be defeated. That she will always win…
“Seeking happiness is instinct. Do what you want and avoid what you don’t. How simple is that? I truly could do anything for her if only she would do that. Yet, she does everything else except that…”
In the past life, he could forgive it. After Yeon Noksa’s death, someone had to succeed them, and after the continental conquest, there might have been no way to step back.
But Blanche Roa Vandalin was different. She had no expectations beyond being a virtual hostage. Even if she just lived quietly in the Emerald Palace, no one would have criticized her, nothing would have been wrong.
She had no obligations, no responsibilities, no need to do anything. She could have focused solely on her own happiness.
Yet, after scaring him so much, what did she choose? To shed blood across the plains, to sow violence and hatred—what meaning did that have?
After making him feel as if the blood spilled were his own, all while facing death herself…
“Melk.”
Only when a firm hand touched his cheek did Melchizedek realize he was crying.
He gritted his teeth and bowed his head. He felt miserable and humiliated—not for being seen crying, but because he could not make the woman he loved happy.
“If I can’t make her happy, what use are wealth and power…?”
He had been an emperor in a past life, and would be one again in this life. Handsome, healthy, highly educated, intelligent, able to use his talents effectively. In short, he too was in a situation that should have allowed him to be happy.
Yet he could not.
Because he could not make the one he loved—more than his own life—happy.
Because she wouldn’t even consider her own happiness.
