#104. The Token of Luck (6)
Pavel’s eyes widened in surprise as Sasha’s face came closer. Her reflection filled his clear eyes.
Satisfied, Sasha smiled and pressed her lips gently under his eye, right on the small mole there.
A soft kiss, light as a feather.
“Well done, Pavel.”
She whispered and lowered her face further.
“……”
“……”
Their eyes met. Then Sasha softly touched her lips to Pavel’s lips.
A faint kiss—gentle, only brushing. Sasha smiled and tried to pull back, but this time Pavel moved.
His hand reached up, cradling the back of her head tenderly, and he captured her lips again.
“……!”
Someone gasped. Sasha couldn’t tell if it was her or the watching crowd. But she had no time to think—Pavel was kissing her deeply.
“Mm!”
Startled, Sasha tried to pull away, but Pavel’s eyes only darkened.
This wasn’t like before, when he had been nervous and only followed her lead.
“Ahh…”
Sasha’s small sound escaped, and Pavel tightened his hold. His kiss grew stronger, more heated.
Their lips parted and pressed again. His tongue brushed her teeth, chasing after hers, entwining and deepening.
While Pavel explored every corner of her mouth, the crowd around them buzzed in shock.
So bold—kissing passionately in public, without a care for how many people were watching.
Sasha’s lashes trembled. Distracted by the noise, she faltered. Pavel brushed her scalp gently with his fingertips, sending a shiver down her spine. Her attention snapped back to him.
Hesitating, she slid her hand upward. From his waist, her small hand pressed against his chest. Beneath her palm, she felt the warmth, the firm muscle, and then—his pounding heartbeat.
It was so strong, so sweet, like music. Sasha closed her eyes again and sank into his kiss.
Their long, heated kiss shocked the people even more than Pavel’s victory over the Crown Prince.
At last, they parted.
“Phew.”
“Haa, haa.”
Sasha wiped her swollen, wet lips with the back of her hand, cheeks red. She stared at Pavel, trying to calm her breath, while he only looked relaxed.
Pavel grinned.
“I learn quickly, Wife.”
“…I knew you were quick to learn, but I didn’t think you’d use that talent in this kind of thing.”
Pavel shrugged, smug. Sasha narrowed her eyes at him, finding him a little cheeky.
“Hmm…”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Sasha flashed a playful smile, then quickly hid it. She twirled her hair with her finger, pretending to be serious.
“I was just wondering… where did you learn that?”
“…What?”
“To be so skilled already… it feels like you learned it somewhere.”
At that, Pavel froze. Suspicion flickered across his face.
“You’re the only one for me.”
“Really? Then how did you get so good at this…?”
“This is just—!”
Sasha held back a laugh at his flustered state. She knew him too well to truly doubt him.
‘He probably asked Nikolai for advice… or read about it in some book.’
She could guess easily. She knew all of Pavel’s habits and ways. Still, since he had turned a simple congratulatory kiss into something so long and fiery, she wanted a little playful revenge.
Watching him stumble was cute, so she teased him a bit more.
“Hmm…”
Sasha lowered her eyes, frowning in fake thought. Pavel’s brows furrowed anxiously. He didn’t even notice the small smile tugging at her lips.
“Wife! Truly, you’re the only one. Don’t doubt me…”
The onlookers whispered among themselves.
“What are they talking about so happily?”
“I don’t know, but it’s clear they’re very special to each other.”
Though no one could hear their words clearly, it was obvious that love overflowed between them.
Even Ruslan, watching from afar, could see it.
His handsome face twisted, ugly with fury.
***
When the tournament finally ended—
Princess Irina stood outside Ruslan’s chamber, muttering softly.
“…He doesn’t look good at all.”
The Ruslan she knew had never lost. Born with the highest status, blessed with talent and beauty, he always carried himself with pride and ease.
But only Irina knew his true nature.
“He can’t stand losing. He has to get revenge, has to claim what he wants. If someone takes it, he’ll do anything to snatch it back, even if he throws it away afterward.”
That was the real Ruslan.
So she worried—and also expected. If he lost control now, perhaps his perfect reputation as heir would finally crack. But she also feared what kind of reckless thing he might do.
Just as she turned the handle—
Crash!
A loud shatter came from inside. Irina rushed in.
The tidy chamber was destroyed, furniture overturned. Ruslan, the cause of it all, looked a mess himself.
Her brother, who always smiled in public, now glared with bloodshot eyes.
“Where is she?” His low voice was rough.
“…Who do you mean?”
“Alexandra.”
“…Alexandra? You mean… Countess Volkov?”
Ruslan didn’t answer, only stared at her, demanding silently.
“…Why are you looking for her?”
“Where is she?”
“She’s probably with her husband. In the guest room, or maybe they returned home already.”
“The winner went home instead of attending the banquet?”
“They know manners. They wouldn’t do that.”
“Then she must not be lost. She must not be lost…”
He muttered like a madman.
Irina’s back grew cold.
‘Has he gone crazy? In just one day?’
Shaken, she told him the message she was ordered to deliver: everyone was waiting for him at the banquet, which he was supposed to oversee.
Ruslan’s eyes flickered strangely, and Irina backed away, relieved when he didn’t stop her.
Outside, she quickly summoned a maid to check on Count Volkov and his wife.
‘Please, let them have gone home already…’
***
But against Irina’s hopes, Count Volkov and Sasha were still at the palace, preparing to attend the evening banquet.
Irina quickened her steps, determination hardening her face.
“…If they meet Ruslan now, disaster might happen.”
She planned to “accidentally” run into them and warn them.
After an hour of waiting near their room, she finally saw Pavel step out.
“Count Volkov!” she called brightly.
Pavel glanced back at her—
Then, quietly, he turned his head away, as if he hadn’t seen her at all.
“……?”
Irina froze in disbelief.
