#156. Wind (6):
The two of them entered the castle in silence.
Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the alcohol, but Pavel’s mind was a tangled mess. Every brush of Sasha as they walked close together made his heart ache with urgency.
The moment they returned to the bedroom, Pavel could no longer restrain himself. He pressed Sasha against the wall and kissed her.
It was a desperate, urgent kiss, as if he were fleeing from something. He gave her no room to breathe, pouring all his anxious emotion into the act.
For a brief moment, Sasha was startled—but she did not push him away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Pavel faltered.
His eyes, wide and vigilant as if afraid she might vanish, met Sasha’s rounded eyes blinking gently at him.
[I love you, Pavel. So don’t be anxious.]
The closeness of Sasha’s heart reached him softly.
As her countless thoughts and emotions flowed through their pressed-together bodies, the anxiety and restlessness that had tormented Pavel gradually melted away.
After some time, Pavel finally pulled back from her lips, fully calm.
Now with composure, he moved differently than before—slowly, deliberately.
His large hands traced up Sasha’s waist, undoing the buttons at her chest, and he rested his face against the exposed nape of her neck.
Pressing his lips to her neck, he let out a slow, satisfied sigh.
“Haah.”
Sasha shivered slightly. She clung to him, arms tightening around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist in an urgent embrace.
Cradling her pressed body, Pavel whispered her name repeatedly:
“Sasha… Sasha…”
Though their actions were much like yesterday, it felt even better. Not merely because the initial awkwardness had vanished—his wife’s reactions had changed.
She received him more actively than before, her openness blooming fully toward him.
Pavel buried his face in her embrace, inhaling her subtle scent, letting it fill him deeply and lift his spirits.
By the middle, Sasha, already exhausted, fell asleep almost immediately after climaxing, just like the night before.
Pavel, still fully alert, chose not to disturb his sleeping wife further. He adjusted her pillow, carefully pulled the blanket over her shoulders, and lay down quietly beside her, watching her sleep without shaking the bed.
Moonlight poured through the uncovered window, highlighting her silver hair in soft, shimmering strands.
Pavel watched silently, overcome by an indescribable feeling.
Long ago, when he was a young boy who had not yet opened his heart to Sasha, he had gazed at her asleep just like this.
At that time, she had treated him differently from others, persistently coming closer even when he rejected or hurt her.
The young Pavel, observing her sleep, had felt emotions he could not articulate. It was likely then that he had first fallen for her.
Yet, his pride kept him from admitting it, so he had pretended not to notice.
Even going so far as to pull the blanket over her in case she was cold, he excused it to himself with the thought: Because she’s mine.
Back then, his possessiveness over what little he had was strong. If something felt wholly his, he would protect it—never letting it be taken or broken.
So he framed Sasha as his wife, entirely his, justifying the care he gave her as natural, as if it were trivial.
Of course, it was far from trivial. The suspicions that rose from deep within him were real. Sasha had quickly become the most important thing to him.
From the day he first met her at twelve…
From that unpleasant wedding, from the night he had insisted it was his room yet ended up sleeping in the same bed…
From the night Sasha cared for him while he suffered unbearable pain…
“…I love you.”
As he recalled these moments, Pavel gently brushed Sasha’s hair off her forehead while she slept.
“Mm.”
Even in her sleep, she seemed to feel his touch, her long eyelashes trembling.
“Pavel…”
He froze.
Watching his wife call his name in her sleep, he silently smiled. He didn’t even realize he was smiling.
She was unbearably adorable, even in sleep, calling him. He gazed at her endlessly.
Soon, Sasha fell into a deeper sleep, quiet and still. Pavel leaned back slightly, but then, on impulse, lowered his face toward hers.
Their noses nearly touched. If she had opened her eyes now, her beautiful golden eyes would have met his. She would blink in surprise—and even that would have been charming.
But Sasha, deep in sleep, did not stir.
Pavel pressed a gentle kiss to her, tracing her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and lips. Though brief, it made his heart flutter.
They were closer than anyone else, capable of so much more, yet he still kissed her like this—because she was Sasha.
Loving her made him nervous, made him excited. The feeling might dull slightly with time, but it would never disappear. Love would grow stronger with each passing day.
So, perhaps, this feeling would last a lifetime.
Pavel lay beside her, eyes closed, thinking so.
As always, he could sleep peacefully beside his wife.
And tonight, more comfortably and safely than ever before.
Yet, not everyone was having a peaceful night.
“Kyahhh!”
Naina buried her face in a pillow and screamed. The sound, which she had failed to suppress, escaped into the room and disturbed the air.
When she finally lifted her head, her face contorted like a demon’s.
“Alexandra Arban! You—tear you to pieces, it wouldn’t even be enough!”
Grinding her teeth, Naina recalled the woman who had ruined her mood entirely—Sasha.
A girl from an obscure, humble family, sold into this situation due to debt.
And yet she had become the current Grand Duchess, Alexandra.
Naina was different—no, she, the daughter of the Northern Marquis Lyssa Gokiri, born into a noble family, was different.
Born a treasured child of a great noble family, educated for the future role of Grand Duchess!
Naina could not even dare to compare herself to Alexandra.
Surely she had just relied on her appearance to assert herself! Naina had forced herself to keep her pride in check, mimicking a similar look.
With appearances matched, she assumed that her noble-born essence would naturally win.
Yet everyone they met preferred Alexandra over Naina.
At the reception, in debates, at dinner—they all favored Sasha.
“Why do I keep losing?!”
Her obsession with the Grand Duchess title had warped. Hatred became sticky, jealousy intense, devouring her original purpose.
A new desire had taken root in Naina:
Alexandra Volkoff—she wanted to make Sasha suffer somehow.
After all, it was Sasha’s schemes that had placed her in this position.
Her family’s ruin, losing the Grand Duchess position, Pavel’s lack of interest—all traced back to Sasha.
Even when Naina impersonated Sasha to approach Pavel, it was for that reason. She hated seeing the loving couple so openly together, thinking she could use deception and magic to hurt Sasha.
Given their similar appearance, she thought she could fool Pavel, who was after all a man. She decided to use strong enchantment magic. Though she had been restraining herself, she did not hold back this time.
It had worked on some servants and guards along the way.
Yet, in the critical moment—before the person herself—she had failed miserably, and worse, suffered public humiliation again.
How dare… how dare she treat me like this? That insolent brat!
“Do you think… I’ll give up just like this?”
Naina’s eyes blazed. Strong winds of hatred radiated from her, resonating with her constant desire for evil.
The spherical artifact in her hands shimmered briefly, but disappeared in an instant, unnoticed by anyone—even the spirits near her.
After the light vanished, her eyes grew even murkier.
No other incidents occurred, and Pavel’s relationship with Sasha was smooth. So smooth, it was almost excessive—so much that one might caution herself to take it easy… No real problems existed.
Yet, Sasha sensed an inexplicable irritation.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
The next day, and the day after, the irritation didn’t vanish.
While working in her office, Sasha caught a faint, teasing scent of tea. She looked up—and finally, she realized the source of the irritation.
