Chapter 92

“……”

“……”

“Well then, I’ll leave you two alone. Once you’re done, call me. I’ll be going now!”

“How are we supposed to call you if you leave like that!”

“But what if I come in thinking you’re done, only to interrupt when you’re not?”

“Th—that’s!”

“You, of all people, should know there really is a chance Lehan might cut off my head!”

“I can’t deny that.”

Lehan abruptly rose from where he’d been sitting and strode toward Edelis. He stopped right in front of her, then turned his upper body half around to glance at Frache, who was pretending to cover his eyes with his hand. Lehan spoke with his eyes alone.

‘Don’t even think of peeking through your fingers. Get lost.’

Frache, who had been trying to sneak a glance, regretfully turned to leave—until Edelis hurriedly grabbed him.

“W-wait! Actually, I tried that method last night!”

“…What?”

Frache’s eyes lit with interest as he looked at Lehan. Those eyes seemed to say, ‘Already? That fast? As expected of Keirhan.’ 

The thought made Edelis blush harder. Talking about kissing in front of a third person was mortifying. But it was still better than the alternative—being left alone in the room with Lehan after such an awkward kiss, and then having to fetch Frache afterward in even worse awkwardness.

“R-right, Your Majesty. You remember, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Wh-what do you mean! I’m talking about when I thought Your Majesty’s memory had returned!”

“I don’t really recall.”

“But it was just last night!”

What? He didn’t remember? She couldn’t believe it. Yet Lehan looked utterly calm, his eyes innocent. Then the corner of his mouth tugged upward.

“Who knows. Maybe, as Johannes said, kissing will bring it back.”

“But we already kissed and nothing came back! It doesn’t work!”

“I don’t remember a thing. Maybe Johannes’s shield knocked the memory right out of me.”

“Hhhhk—!”

Frache shot Edelis a desperate plea for help, but she had no solution either. At last, he clenched his fists and carved out his own way of escape.

“Once the Empress’s treatment is finished, your memory will return, Keirhan! That’s it for me!”

Frache gave Edelis a big thumbs-up before hurrying out the door. That gesture only made things more unbearable.

‘What’s with the thumbs-up, seriously!’

Edelis lifted her hand to stop him, but he had already shut the door, leaving her hand to cut through empty air. And then Lehan caught that hand.

“Well then, now that the audience is gone—shall we try bringing my memory back?”

“…You know it won’t.”

“Do I? How would I know for sure?”

“Do you really not remember anything?”

At her question, Lehan chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist. The sudden closeness made Edelis flustered. Before, Lehan had always blushed and looked shy when approaching her. But now… he was confident. Bold. As if being close to her was only natural. It was the same at this moment too.

Without a word, he seized her lips. He devoured her, pulling her so close there was no space left between them, his breath mingling with hers. Edelis’s heart was in turmoil. She wanted to push him away, yet glimpses of the old Lehan—the one before his memory loss—kept surfacing. The way he desired her, the casual ease with Frache… it was the same. Yet accepting him felt wrong too, because he wasn’t quite the same man she had once loved. Stuck in between, she could only remain still.

“Did you act like this before, too?”

“H-huh?”

“Before I lost my memory—did you just stand there like that as well?”

“…I don’t think so. Probably not.”

“Why are you guessing about your own behavior?”

“……”

“Are you just embarrassed?”

“If you know, don’t ask!”

“Do it. Like before. Who knows, maybe the memory will return.”

Edelis shot him a resentful look. But since this was all in the name of helping his memory, she couldn’t very well refuse.

“How much like before?”

“As much as possible.”

She hesitated only briefly before making up her mind.

“Then, please sit over there.”

It was the chair where Lehan usually did his work. Looking doubtful, he stepped away from her and sat down. The moment he did, Edelis climbed onto his lap.

Lehan’s eyes widened, shaken, as he stared at her.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who asked for this.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Their eyes locked. His gaze dropped from her green eyes down to her red lips.

“And then?”

“…Now I’m ready.”

Her heartbeat thundered so loudly she worried he might hear. Last night she’d kissed him thinking his memory had returned. But now? Now it felt almost like… cheating. Even though the man before her was still the same Lehan, past or present.

“Edelis.”

He called her name as he leaned in, even though she’d told him not to. So she called the name he had once forbidden her to.

“Lehan.”

His brow twitched, but he didn’t stop. He kissed her. Again and again, lips meeting and parting. Her heart pounded harder each time. Without realizing, she clutched his neck tight, and he responded by pulling her waist closer. He stole every breath that slipped through her lips until, breathless, she finally gasped for air.

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Hard to say. I’ll have to try again later.”

Ssshh… She felt tricked.

“Then I’ll go call Lord Frache.”

“Go ahead.”

“And tell him next time, we should start with the shield strike first.”

“……”

Sliding off his lap, she went to fetch Frache. But the moment she opened the door and saw him lingering outside with a bright red face, she remembered—calling him in was basically announcing, ‘We’re done kissing!’

Her mind went blank, but she managed one sentence.

“…Please, hit him with the shield.”

***

The Saintess returned to the temple still fuming. She had been accused of attempting to assassinate the Emperor. It was outrageous. She only knew which food would trigger Keirhan’s fits because she had read it in the book. She had merely moved the date forward; eventually he would have eaten it anyway. And, as in the book, she had healed him—so why was she being treated like a would-be murderer now?

“This is all that wench’s fault!”

Thinking of the Empress, who had smugly told her she would be spared only thanks to her healing, made her stomach churn. That woman, who by now should have been skewered on Keirhan’s blade, dared still to live. She regretted ever curing the plague victims. She had only done it to win Keirhan’s favor. And because she had drained too much divine power then, she had failed to fully alter his memory. It was all because of her depleted strength.

Seething, she shook the bell violently. A junior priest rushed in.

“You summoned me—”

“Why haven’t the priests I called come?”

“T-they…”

The absence of priests to restore her divine power enraged her further. Without replenishment, she couldn’t keep adjusting Keirhan’s memory. True, repeated tampering might harm his mind. But what choice did she have? He was her emperor—her future itself. Better a slightly damaged mind than a life without her by his side.

‘His mind might suffer a little, but that’s better than being without me.’

She needed power. And yet the priests dawdled. How dare they treat the Saintess, God’s vessel, this way?

“If they don’t come at once, I’ll drain every drop of your divine power.”

“Saintess, please…! I have no family. If I’m cast out of the temple…”

“Then fetch the others. Your meager power alone won’t be enough.”

“J-just wait, just a moment!”

He scrambled out. Watching him flee only deepened her sigh. She had too much to do, and no one she could rely on. She could trust no one but herself. Just as Johannes Frache had once come to her aid when she was imprisoned in the palace—so it would be again.

Meanwhile, as Lehan worked, a small smile slipped out. He quickly straightened when he caught his adjutant staring, but the man had already seen. Still, the adjutant said nothing. He didn’t need words to know—the Emperor smiled whenever he thought of the Empress.

‘It’s been nearly a year now. No way I wouldn’t know.’

Lehan hastily pushed aside the document he had signed, dipped his pen again, and began to write on a blank sheet.

<Edelis.>

The name she had told him not to call. But he liked the way it felt on his tongue. Why did he care for her so much? Because she was his only Empress? He could always take a concubine. Because she was unexpectedly capable? That was somewhat possible. Because he had once loved her? That was harder to ignore.

He had always thought his life colorless, devoted only to survival. Yet the letters and diary he had found were vibrant, radiant with the passion of a man in love. That man—his former self—was almost unrecognizable.

‘…What should I write?’

Once he’d written her name, he was stuck. He kept dipping his pen again and again, blaming the dried ink. He wanted to send her a letter, as he once had. But he couldn’t bring himself to shower her with praise the way his past self had.

<I’d like to have dinner with you tonight.>

A line he finally managed to write. A line that hardly needed a letter. Something a servant could have delivered verbally. Still, Lehan folded the letter with satisfaction, sealed it, and handed it to a servant.

“Deliver this to the Empress.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And bring me her reply.”

“Understood!”

While waiting, Lehan’s heart pounded with anticipation. Soon the servant returned—with a letter in hand. Relief flooded him. He had feared she might answer only in words. He quickly slit the envelope with a letter opener and drew out her reply.

<To Lehan—

I never thought you would send me letters during work hours too.>

‘Yes. That’s just like her.’

His cheeks flushed hot, as though he’d been caught lazing about. Yet he couldn’t fold the letter away.

‘Lehan…’

That name. The name he had once hated. A name that belonged to the past. He had thought to bury it forever, now that he was Emperor. Yet lately, hearing the Empress call him “Lehan” again and again, memories of the girl he had known as a boy kept surfacing. Her face was lost to him, blurred as if behind fog.

‘I wonder if she’s doing well.’

The thought once buried deep began to rise again. Was she, like his younger self, suffering hardship somewhere?

“…Should I try to find her?”