#103. The Token of Luck (5)
Bwooo!
The sound of the horn was followed by the thunder of heavy hooves.
“Waaaah!”
Excited cheers rang out from all directions, and people shouted as if they were narrating the match live.
“They’re so fast! Both horses are amazing.”
“More than that, look at the riders—they don’t lose their perfect posture even after such a long match.”
“Oh! They’re clashing at last!”
The crowd admired the high-level fight, unable to take their eyes off Pavel and Ruslan.
But Sasha couldn’t open her eyes since the start of the match.
‘Pavel must not get hurt…’
Her mind was filled only with that worry.
Horrible images flashed through her mind—Pavel struck by Ruslan’s lance, bleeding, falling, rolling to the ground.
Each time, her body trembled, her teeth clenched. She swore that if something like that happened, she would never just sit and watch.
But then—
“Ha.”
She almost laughed at herself.
Through countless past lives, she had never feared like this.
In her previous lives, she had lived as if she didn’t know fear—treating people in dangerous battlefields, sometimes even taking up a sword to fight.
She had survived ambushes, schemes, and countless attempts on her life.
And now? This wasn’t even real war. Just a mock fight, a jousting match, almost like a festival.
And she wasn’t even the one competing. She was only watching. Yet she was more nervous than ever.
‘It’s ridiculous.’
Her clasped hands were damp with sweat. Her heart pounded painfully.
…Love had made her like this. So weak that she couldn’t even keep her eyes open for a simple jousting match.
‘Not even horror movies made me this nervous…’
Anyone who had known her past self would laugh, asking why she had grown such a weak heart.
But unlike the cheering crowd, she couldn’t watch as just a spectator.
Unless Pavel completely dominated, she couldn’t relax.
“Look! The Count attacked!”
Sasha opened her eyes just a little. Through the cloud of dust, she caught glimpses of two lances clashing.
Pavel attacked strongly and swiftly with his massive lance, striking Ruslan, who was slightly bigger.
Her heart eased a little. Pavel was taking the lead. Surely, he would win soon…
“Ah!”
But his string of attacks was blocked.
Ruslan, with his greater experience, broke the flow that had shifted to Pavel.
“Ahhh! The Count—!”
“……!”
As Ruslan’s lance swung toward Pavel, Sasha squeezed her eyes shut again.
“Wow! The Count blocked it again! How can he defend against such strong and fast strikes? Amazing!”
Nina’s excited voice made Sasha sigh in relief.
‘He’s safe.’
Their skills were so evenly matched that the match dragged on.
Sasha’s nerves rose and fell with every moment. Her heart couldn’t take much more.
She rubbed her chest and forced her trembling eyes open toward the field.
「Don’t worry~ we’re here~」
The spirits, sensing her emotions, fluttered around her face.
She wouldn’t interfere. For fairness, she wanted Pavel to win with his own strength. Besides, stepping in would wound his pride.
Still, she called the spirits.
‘It’s only wise to be ready for the worst.’
Even though she had promised Pavel that his life as a warrior came first, she couldn’t just sit idle. She asked the spirits to prevent a fatal blow, or at least shield him from severe injury if he fell.
But—
Bang! Clang!
The lances clashed again and again.
Each time, the earth-shaking sound made Sasha flinch.
「Told you not to worry~」
She knew in her head she shouldn’t, but her heart refused to listen.
She only prayed the match would end quickly.
Bwooo!
At last, the match was decided.
‘Who won?’
For Sasha, victory didn’t matter. Only whether Pavel was safe. She stretched her neck to see through the cloud of dust.
Two blurry figures emerged—one still upright on horseback, the other fallen on the ground.
‘Please, don’t let it be Pavel who fell!’
The wind blew, clearing the dust.
“Oh my…!”
The spectators gasped.
But Sasha’s fear eased the moment she saw Pavel still firmly on his horse.
“Count Volkov defeated the Crown Prince?”
“What will happen now? How will the Imperial Family respond…?”
The whispers around her barely reached her ears.
‘Pavel is safe.’
That truth alone mattered to her.
“Haa…”
She exhaled deeply, unclenching her pale, stiff hands. Her fingertips tingled.
Straightening her back, she looked at the field where Pavel sat tall, guiding his horse.
He would come to her now. To offer the reward for the token of luck she had given.
‘Then I’ll scold him properly.’
Without realizing it, she smiled mischievously. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but she wanted him to feel even a fraction of her heart’s trembling.
Because that’s what marriage was—sharing the good and the bad.
After the Victory
The Emperor gave words of blessing and placed a crown of roses on the winner’s head.
But after seeing Ruslan defeated, Emperor Natalya’s face looked grim.
“The Grand Duke Volkov will be pleased. His heir is indeed strong. Hmph. Congratulations on your victory.”
Pavel bowed respectfully. The rose crown was placed on his head.
After the ceremony, he descended the platform and removed his helmet. His black hair, damp with sweat, glittered under the sun.
As he approached Sasha, he ran his hand through his hair, frowning.
‘What if I smell of sweat?’
That was his only concern—that Sasha might dislike his dirty state after the long match.
He didn’t even consider the aftermath of defeating the Crown Prince.
As he walked toward her, he brushed off dust from his armor, trying to neaten himself. But no matter how he tried, it didn’t help much.
Finally, still disheveled, he stood before Sasha.
“Wife.”
With a slightly shy smile, Pavel called to her.
When she only looked at him silently, he acted first.
Carefully, he lowered the Emperor’s rose crown onto her head.
Despite the dust and heat, Sasha still looked as beautiful as she had that morning. With the crown, she shone even brighter.
Pavel smiled proudly.
“I kept my vow, Wife. I’ve brought you the greatest honor and glory here.”
His eyes sparkled like a child boasting of his success, clearly expecting a reward.
According to tradition, a man who received a woman’s token of luck and won must gift her the victory crown. In return, the woman would kiss him—usually lightly on the forehead or cheek.
But even the thought of Sasha’s lips anywhere on him was enough to make Pavel’s heart pound.
“Why are you making that face?”
Sasha stifled a laugh at his eager look and reached out.
Her slender fingers touched his damp hair. Pavel flinched as if to pull away, but quickly accepted her touch.
She gently fixed his messy hair.
“Pavel.”
“Yes, Wife?”
“I was so worried.”
“…Were you?”
“Yes. I feared you might get hurt, or worse, not be able to stand again. I only prayed that you’d be safe, win or lose.”
Her words lit a spark in Pavel’s pride. His usually calm face flared with emotion as he spoke quickly—
“I wasn’t hurt. And I didn’t lose.”
His eyes burned fiercely.
Don’t you trust me? Did I look that weak to you?
Sasha could read his heart even without his gift. Love made his thoughts too transparent to miss.
Holding back her laugh, she replied gently.
“That’s true. But no matter how much I trust your strength, I still can’t stop worrying about you.”
“……”
Her eyebrows lowered, her voice softening.
“Even now, I think—if you go to dangerous warfronts where I can’t see you, how much more will I worry every single day…”
Pavel’s gaze softened.
He loved that Sasha cared for him so much. But he didn’t want her to suffer because of it.
He wanted her always happy, always smiling—ideally by his side, but even if apart, he hoped she could still smile.
“Wife.”
Pavel opened his mouth to speak.
But—
“Husband.”
Sasha cupped his cheek and leaned closer.
