#92. Title Ceremony (1)
Ruslan, saying the two looked good together, gestured to the servant who followed him. The servant opened a chest holding formal clothes and showed them.
“Since I brought extra formal wear just in case, you may choose one that matches your wife’s dress.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Think nothing of it.”
Ruslan shrugged, then looked at Pavel.
“I always wanted a younger brother. But as you know, I cannot have one anymore.”
Natalya the Great, over sixty years old, had only two descendants left: the crown prince Ruslan and princess Irina.
Her only child had died ten years ago with his wife, leaving behind only young grandchildren.
So Ruslan could never have another sibling.
Everyone knew the tragic death of the former crown prince and his wife, so Sasha and Pavel immediately understood the meaning.
The joke wasn’t funny, and they both stayed silent.
Ruslan, as if nothing had happened, went on.
“Even without blood ties, I wished for someone I could call a brother, close like family. But I never found anyone who could look me in the eye and speak as you do.”
Pavel’s eyebrow twitched.
He hadn’t expected Ruslan to interpret his challenging gaze that way.
When Pavel turned his eyes aside with a sour face, Ruslan burst into laughter.
Patting Pavel’s shoulder warmly, he said,
“Then, see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Pavel replied politely, and Ruslan chuckled as he stepped back.
At that moment, Irina took the chance to slip forward and whispered quickly to Pavel.
“I’ll write in a letter what I mentioned earlier.”
“Thank you for your kindness.”
Pavel answered with a detached expression.
“…It’s nothing.”
Irina glared at Pavel, who stayed cold until the end. Of course, Pavel didn’t care at all.
To others it looked dry and formal, but to Sasha, watching from the side, it looked different.
‘So they really do have something between them.’
Talking about exchanging letters so casually—it must mean she hadn’t been mistaken earlier.
And she realized one thing for sure.
‘All this time, I was foolishly drinking my own delusions.’
Ashamed, Sasha squeezed her eyes shut.
On the way back to the townhouse, Sasha kept her eyes closed, pretending to be tired. Her head was full, and she couldn’t face Pavel.
Luckily, Pavel didn’t ask her why. He just gazed seriously out the window, lost in thought.
But seeing him like that only made Sasha feel stranger.
‘Is he thinking of Princess Irina? …No. Even if he is, that’s none of my business.’
Still, her emotions twisted painfully.
As soon as they arrived at the townhouse, Sasha hurried to her room, saying she would rest.
But sitting inside only made her feel more stifled, so she went back out soon after.
She didn’t leave the property. She didn’t want to waste energy wandering unfamiliar, crowded streets.
Instead, Sasha walked in the well-kept garden, full of spring’s fresh air.
The movement and fresh breeze cleared her mind. A smile spread on her lips.
But then, she heard footsteps behind her.
Turning, she saw Nikolai bowing awkwardly as he approached.
“Ah, Sir Nikolai.”
Sasha greeted him politely.
To Sasha, Nikolai always felt close yet distant, a bit hard to read.
They knew each other through Andrei, but unlike Pavel—who tolerated Nikolai’s antics and even gave him reluctant dating advice—Sasha had never grown close to him.
Years of knowing each other hadn’t lessened the distance.
So being alone together now felt awkward.
Nikolai also found it difficult. In fact, he struggled even more.
‘Ah…’
Normally he was friendly with everyone, but Sasha was different.
Partly because she herself was hard for him to approach. But mostly—
‘If I slip and try to flirt with her…’
Nikolai had a bad habit: flirting with women he found attractive, whether it worked or not.
And Sasha—beautiful, wise, capable, gentle, and kind—was someone even he could fall for if he wasn’t careful.
Not that Sasha would ever respond to his advances.
But if he even tried, then…
‘The young master would kill me.’
Or worse—he might be cast out of the Grand Duke’s household altogether.
He couldn’t risk that.
‘Not after coming this far!’
As a commoner, Nikolai had been unbelievably lucky to rise to the side of the next Grand Duke. He wouldn’t throw it away.
So around Sasha, he was always cautious.
But this time was different.
Normally, he would never approach her alone. But now—he had no choice.
Because of his only true friend’s request.
Earlier, he had been in the townhouse’s knight quarters with Andrei.
Nikolai was lounging with a red book while Andrei stood at the window, staring outside.
Looking into the garden, Andrei spoke.
“She seems troubled.”
“Who?”
Nikolai sat up and joined him at the window. There he saw a familiar figure.
“Eh? Isn’t that the lady?”
“……”
“…You mean her?”
“She doesn’t easily share her worries. Even if you can’t lessen her burden, just listening might help.”
“…Wait. Are you telling me to go talk to her?”
“……”
Andrei didn’t answer, only stared firmly, pressing Nikolai to act.
Nikolai groaned under his friend’s gaze.
“Hey, then you go! Why make me do it?”
“…I can’t.”
“What?”
“I promised I wouldn’t. Even if I hadn’t promised… I shouldn’t.”
He didn’t explain who he promised or why. But Nikolai, sharp as ever, understood.
‘Ah, so he got caught.’
Caught by Sasha herself—or maybe by Pavel.
Either way, his stiff, honest friend had been discovered harboring feelings.
And from the guilt and shame in his eyes, he was already trying to suppress them.
“…Sigh.”
Nikolai patted his foolish friend’s shoulder.
That was all he could do.
He couldn’t tease him to go instead.
Normally he would cheer any romance for Andrei—who lived like a block of wood with no joy in life.
If it were any other woman, he’d support him, even if she were older or of lower status.
Because Andrei, son of Duke Medvedev, could likely make it work.
But there was one woman he must never pursue.
Alexandra Volkov, the Grand Duchess.
She was off limits.
So Nikolai couldn’t encourage his friend. But he also couldn’t refuse his request to talk to her in his place.
“…Fine. Just this once!”
“Thank you.”
That’s how Nikolai ended up in this painfully awkward situation.
‘Ah, maybe I shouldn’t have come…’
He regretted it instantly.
But with his friend watching from afar, he couldn’t back out.
He slowly walked closer and spoke.
“Your face looks unwell, madam. Did something happen at the palace?”
“Does it look that way?”
Sasha smiled faintly.
“Well…”
Nikolai scratched his nose. Sasha lowered her eyes again and murmured.
“Yes, something did happen.”
Her voice was weak. Her face shadowed with worry.
Anyone could see it—something had indeed happened at the palace.
Bingo. Nikolai cheered inwardly.
‘Now, what should I say?’
Advising people was nothing new to him. He had counseled everyone from his friend Andrei to drunk villagers, even his master Pavel.
But this time, even he hesitated.
No matter what, he doubted Sasha would confide in him.
Still—there was one magic phrase that worked in any situation.
So he tried it.
“Whatever it is, madam, I feel pain seeing you unhappy.”
“……”
Sasha only smiled faintly, a polite rejection.
Oops.
Nikolai realized he had slipped into his bad habit again—flirtatious words.
He scratched his head awkwardly under her gaze.
Clearing his throat, he quickly corrected himself.
“But whatever it is, what matters most is your feelings. About that matter—how do you feel, madam?”
“Hmm…”
Sasha fell into thought, looking inward at her own heart.
At first, she felt ashamed.
Ashamed of misinterpreting Pavel’s kindness, of imagining his feelings, and of acting strangely because of it.
But once the shame faded, what remained in her heart was…
