Long Live the Emperor, Minus Me (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 14
It absolutely wasn’t the case—but she could’ve offered her left wrist anyway. Blanche happened to be left-handed, after all.
But since no one had even asked, she saw no reason to sacrifice such a precious wrist, so Blanche merely gave an awkward laugh.
“Ahaha….”
“Oh, right. Now that I think of it—did you know that the Grand Duke’s playmate receives quasi-royal status?”
She did know. Melchizedek had mentioned it when proposing their contract of friendship.
Yet, fearing that Liana’s already gem-like sparkling eyes would shine even brighter at those words, Blanche calmly lied instead.
“Geugeonyaeyo? (Is that so?)”
“Yes. So, you’ll be moving to a new palace.”
Amidst all the anxious remarks, this sudden good news was a welcome surprise.
She’d just been thinking that if someone ever offered to grant her a wish, she’d ask to move palaces—so this was truly perfect timing.
Her suspected assassin was Princess Vishian of Chibecha, who shared the Emerald Palace with her, making it rather uncomfortable to continue residing in the same palace as the would-be killer.
“Then, since you’ll likely have more space, your staff will probably increase as well. Is that alright? I’ve heard children your age tend to be very shy around strangers.”
Was three even an age for being shy? She couldn’t recall—neither her own childhood nor when her daughter was three felt recent enough to remember clearly.
Besides, whether in her past or current life, she’d never lived luxuriously enough to afford the indulgence of shyness. She’d worked alongside generals whose armies she’d annihilated and figures who’d nearly destroyed her own house—if that didn’t speak volumes, nothing did.
So instead, she focused on another detail: “The staff will increase.”
This was an incredibly tempting offer—she’d just been looking for a way to quietly replace her current attendants. With more staff, she could rotate assignments subtly and eliminate spies without drawing attention.
“Nee, gaenchanayo. Singyeong tteodwuseoseo gamdyahamnida. (Yes, it’s fine. Thank you for your consideration.)”
Good—she’d secured her immediate interests. Now it was time to probe the other party’s true motive. After all, offering a new palace and additional staff surely came with expectations.
The bait came immediately.
“Thank me? Don’t be silly. Melchi is practically family.”
Oh? Promoted from “quasi-royal” to “practically family” in just thirty seconds—a deeply ominous statement.
Family? What possible reason could there be for the Empress of the Empire and a princess from a minor vassal state to be considered family?
A little thought quickly yielded the answer.
Grand Duchess.
If she were being considered as a candidate for Grand Duchess, then becoming “practically family” in thirty seconds made perfect sense.
“Gadeok inani, gabunan mal tteomimnida. (Family? That’s far too generous of you.)”
In ordinary circumstances, her concern would seem laughable—a princess from a weak kingdom worrying about becoming the Grand Duke’s wife? Especially one adopted from a cadet branch merely to serve as a hostage, not even of pure royal blood?
Normally, anyone attempting such a match would be dissuaded by those around them, so she’d usually have nothing to fear—except for one crucial detail: the age gap between the Grand Duke and the Emperor.
To her eyes, the Imperial couple appeared to be around twenty, while the Grand Duke was only five. Both were children of the Empress Dowager, and the Imperial couple had no children yet.
This meant the Grand Duke was currently first in line to the throne—and should the Imperial couple later have a child, that Crown Prince’s greatest rival would inevitably be the Grand Duke.
What if the Imperial couple was already worried about this? What if they wanted to prepare a preventive measure?
Then marrying him to a woman with no political backing would be the most effective solution—stripping him of the strongest possible card: a marriage alliance.
If the Imperial couple thought this way, she was an ideal candidate. The Ramore Kingdom lacked power but had a long history, and Blanche truly carried Ramore royal blood.
Though adopted from a cadet branch, her lineage was legitimate, yet she held no factional power—a stroke of perfect fortune for them.
‘Of course, that’s an adult’s calculation. The Grand Duke himself probably doesn’t see it that way.’
And she had no desire whatsoever for a spouse who didn’t genuinely want her.
“Ieokeona singyeong tteo dwusidani, daegong gakha wa maeu chinhan ga bwayo. (You’re being so considerate—it seems you’re very close to His Grace the Grand Duke.)”
If the Empress’s true intention really was this, it would be deeply troublesome. Hoping she was wrong, she gently probed—maybe the Empress simply had a poor grasp of metaphor.
“Well, there’s quite an age gap, you see. He feels more like my own child than a younger brother. It also happens that Melchi was born around the time we got married.”
But the reply only solidified her suspicions.
“A child-like, though not her own child.”
She understood exactly what those words meant—Lee Baekryeon had grown up hearing precisely that phrase: “just like a child.”
It was the term used by those without biological heirs but needing successors—to describe the stand-in they’d pushed into the heir’s position.
If fortune held and no true heir ever appeared, the stand-in might inherit power as trained—but if a biological child was born, they’d be expected to relinquish their place without hesitation.
In other words, it was a term describing a spare.
Having confirmed her fears, the Empress chatted a bit longer, then rose from her seat, citing a luncheon appointment.
“I’ll send for the physician—take good care of yourself.”
Her calloused, firm fingertips brushed Blanche’s forehead and gently caressed her cheek. Her smiling face was kind and tender.
Yet even the kindest people could turn cruel when necessary. She herself, once deemed capable of living without laws, had abandoned everyone in the end to choose her daughter.
Everyone reaches that moment of cruelty eventually.
“Ajuseoseo gamjahaesseumnida. (Thank you for coming.)”
She smiled back and bowed her head politely.
After the Empress left, Blanche heard her murmuring to Tula about staffing matters.
She collapsed sideways onto the bed, resting her cheek on the pillow, lost in thought for a while.
For now, there was no urgency. A spare must remain ready until it’s certain no spare is needed.
In other words, the real danger would come only after the Imperial couple had a biological child.
“Geunang daegongi haengbokhaejineun ge jeil joheunde. (It’d be best if His Grace just stayed happy.)”
So if the Imperial couple remained childless and the Grand Duke stayed as heir apparent, she’d have nothing to worry about.
That truly would be the ideal scenario—both the Grand Duke and she would be happy.
But the problem was, she couldn’t leave her future to chance.
“Are you alright, Your Highness?”
She quietly watched Tula, who’d come to check on her after finishing her conversation with the Empress.
“What’s wrong? Is there something you need?”
…This was exceedingly bothersome. Preparing for an uncertain event—whose timing and even occurrence were unknown—meant devising contingency plans for every possible timeframe.
Of course, “bothersome” didn’t mean “impossible,” so she could prepare for it.
“Were you too tired? I deliberately didn’t stop you last time as you’d asked—but maybe I should have?”
But to do so, Tula would need to take on a task.
“Tula.”
She tried to sound as firm as possible, but her childish voice rendered the effort ineffective.
“Yes, Your Highness. What would you like me to do?”
Suppressing her nerves, Blanche forced open her reluctant mouth and gave the order to Tula, who still wore a gentle smile.
“Naega sineun dongan yepbeopchaek-eul 3 beon pilsahaedae. (While I rest, copy the etiquette manual three times.)”
“…Yes?”
Taken completely by surprise, Tula’s pupils dilated sharply.
Though Blanche had been instructing her in etiquette before, it had only been through direct lessons—never assigning separate study time like this, so Tula’s reaction was understandable.
But it couldn’t be helped. Even after ten years, she’d still only be thirteen. To prepare for that uncertain future, she needed a public-facing representative—and Tula, who’d never sold her secrets, was the only one who could fill that role.
“Geomdyahageoya. (I’ll inspect it.)”
For now, Tula’s burden would be heavy, but it would ease once more staff were hired. Clinging to that hope, Blanche drove the point home, then lay back down on the bed.
*
While Blanche was left with a mountain of worries, Liana walked down the corridor with an exhilarated step.
—Blanche’s prediction had been spot-on. Liana truly believed Blanche was perfectly suited to be Melchizedek’s partner.
Though their conclusions aligned, their reasons were entirely different. Liana had no intention of using Blanche to restrain Melchizedek.
Contrary to Blanche’s mistaken belief that Liana had judged her based on her background, Liana’s decision was based entirely on Blanche herself—on her abilities.
Liana admired Blanche’s boldness in showing no fear even when facing her, her grace in managing her few attendants with dignity, and above all, how easily she’d grown close to Melchizedek himself.
“Well, even if I approve, it’s meaningless if Melchi refuses. But still—sending such a gift after just one day of meeting… isn’t that special?”
Though it was a bit absurd to consider a five-year-old sending flowers to a three-year-old as a sign of marital suitability, it was Liana making this judgment—a woman who’d met Berken at five and married him not long after.
Moreover, since noble and imperial families routinely arranged betrothals even before birth, Liana felt nothing unusual about planning a marriage between a five-year-old and a three-year-old.
“Even if a formal engagement happens later, I should probably make my intentions known for now.”
After all, the treatment given to an Empress-backed Grand Duchess candidate was unquestionably better than that of an ordinary playmate.
Thus, Liana resolved to let those around her know—out of pure goodwill—that she intended to support Blanche as a candidate for Grand Duchess.
Had Blanche known, she’d have fainted on the spot and remained unconscious for three days straight.
Male lead is a Love-Obsessed Merman
When he discovers she has gone, he risks everything to pursue her on land, enduring agonizing pain to transform his tail into human legs…
One-line summary: Male lead chases female lead. The male lead’s love is a bit sick, an invincible love brain.
Synopsis
During a voyage at sea, Jiang Yang accidentally captures a merman.
Servant: I heard that mermen are fierce and brutal.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman obediently rubbing her palm like a puppy: “You call this fierce and brutal?”
Servant: I heard that mermen have no human nature.
Jiang Yang looks at the merman with wet puppy eyes, obsessively calling her ‘A Yang’ like a childish infant: “You call this having no human nature?”
With great difficulty, she releases the merman back into the sea and returns to shore.
Who would have thought that in less than half a month, the merman, who should have been freely wandering in the South China Sea, would shed his scales, endure the pain of losing his tail, transform into human legs, and come ashore to find her?
He kneels at her feet, rubbing her palm, with merman tears rolling down: “A Yang, don’t abandon me.”
_____
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