To My Gentle Dictator – Chapter 020

She hadn’t misheard.

For a moment, Sasha wondered if she was losing her mind.

It felt as if a foolish childhood fantasy had suddenly materialized into reality without warning.

Maybe the sudden rush of sugar—after going so long without it—was causing some kind of bizarre hallucination.

But the warmth of his hand clasping hers was real.

And so were Ulrich’s blue eyes, calmly watching the confusion flickering through hers.

“Marriage…?”

“Yes.”

“With me?”

“Yes.”

“To you?”

“Unless you already have someone else in mind?”

Ulrich lightly touched his chin with his fingers as he spoke.

Sasha, flustered, shook her head so hard that her face turned red all over again.

“Why… Why would you want to marry me?”

Even in the midst of this surreal, bewildering moment, she had to ask.

A childhood fantasy was just that—a fantasy.

She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that Ulrich had harbored feelings for her all this time.

Besides…

“There must be plenty of better women for you to marry. Someone like… Lyudmila.”

“Lyudmila?”

Ulrich tilted his head, as if the name had come out of nowhere.

Then, suddenly, his lips curled into an amused smile, as if he had figured something out.

“Ah… Are you misunderstanding because of the other day? Did I look like I had some special relationship with Lyudmila?”

The way he had struck right at the heart of the matter made Sasha flinch in embarrassment.

“N-no, it’s not exactly that! I just meant that there were rumors before about you and Lyudmila being—”

“Marriage proposals come in all the time.”

“Oh… I see.”

“But this isn’t the imperial era anymore. Marrying a relative would be a bit much, don’t you think?”

Sasha was momentarily at a loss for words.

Even if that were true, there was no reason for a man like Ulrich to reject the Supreme Commander’s daughter and choose a fallen princess instead.

‘Even if it’s not Lyudmila, there must be countless other candidates…’

There were undoubtedly plenty of women who would want to marry Ulrich.

And if he set his mind to it, he could have anyone he wanted.

So then… why her?

“If you marry me, you might actually fall out of favor with the Party—”

“Given Velus’ current international standing, everyone should be bowing in gratitude if I marry you.”

Silence fell between them.

As Sasha looked at Ulrich in confusion, his eyes were gleaming with laughter, filled with an amused sparkle.

“Alright, I’ll be honest with you.”

“Huh?”

Ulrich let go of her hand and pulled out another cigarette.

The gray smoke, tinged with the red hues of the setting sun, curled around the tips of his golden eyelashes.

Her hand, now bereft of warmth, felt oddly empty.

As she stared down at her palm, feeling a strange sense of loss, an unexpected question reached her ears.

“Do you remember when I told you that I use this mansion to entertain foreign guests?”

“Huh? Oh—yes.”

“Have you ever thought about what kind of guests those might be?”

Sasha blinked, momentarily stunned.

Now that he mentioned it, she had never really considered it before.

Had she should have thought about it more carefully?

“Um… Business-related guests…?”

She hesitated, feeling like a nervous student under the scrutiny of a strict teacher.

Ulrich chuckled at her uncertainty and raised a hand.

“Correct.”

“Oh…”

As his large palm gently patted the top of her head, Sasha’s ears burned red.

For some reason, she was suddenly relieved that she had washed her hair.

“Every business I handle is connected to the national industry. Simply put, I’m both the head of security and a trade broker.”

“I see…”

It was a bit difficult to understand, but Sasha nodded earnestly anyway.

Even a socialist state still needed capitalists.

Ulrich was the only man in Velus who had true freedom in business.

But beyond his personal interests, the real reason he needed her was—

“All my foreign acquaintances are curious about you.”

Sasha’s eyes widened at the unexpected statement.

“Me? Why?”

“Because you’re the last remaining princess of the fallen Velus Empire. Everyone wants to know you.”

“But I’m… I mean, I’m supposed to be a disgraced symbol of the old world—”

“Hmm. Isn’t Shura a bit too young to be the ‘symbol’ of a fallen era?”

Ulrich’s expression was one of quiet amusement.

Sasha looked up at him, utterly bewildered.

“Shura, foreigners don’t care about things like that. To them, our propaganda is nothing more than crossword puzzle entertainment. What they’re obsessed with is the vanished imperial family. If they hear that they can meet the ‘tragic princess’ and take a picture with her, they’d rush here from the other side of the world without a second thought.”

Everything he was saying was the complete opposite of what she had been told for the past three years.

She had been branded as the corrupt remnant of a decadent empire—a dirty symbol of the old world—a whore of the military.

She had been told that she should be grateful just to be breathing, that she should live in endless shame and misery for the rest of her life, and that she should never, ever dream of shining again.

But now, he was saying that beyond the borders, people were eager to take pictures with her?

It was so strange—so absurd—that she could hardly believe it.

As she sat there in a daze, a whisper brushed against her ear like a gentle tickle.

“Do you think you can do it?”

“Huh? What?”

“Be a symbol.”

Ulrich had shifted slightly, draping one arm over the back of her chair, watching her intently.

With that position, it almost looked as if she were nestled against him.

“I told you I’d be honest, didn’t I? If you marry me, it will improve the country’s image and significantly expand international business opportunities.”

“Oh…”

Hearing such a practical, businesslike reason made Sasha instinctively lower her gaze.

It made sense. It was logical. And yet, deep inside, she felt a strange flicker of disappointment.

‘I’m being ridiculous. As if there would be any other reason for Ulrich to marry someone like me…’

She glanced at her half-eaten mille-feuille, then looked back up at him.

Her throat felt strangely dry.

“But… what if people see me and feel let down?” She hesitated. “I mean, I’m not particularly beautiful or special… And I don’t even have the proper clothes for meeting such people…”

Rather than being an asset, she might end up ruining everything.

As she anxiously bit her lip, Ulrich stared at her for a long moment before saying something entirely unexpected.

“Shura. I’m just a normal man.”

“…What?”

“No matter how beneficial a marriage might be, I wouldn’t want to marry someone unless I found them truly beautiful.”

“……”

“And I have high standards.”

Sasha’s lips parted slightly in shock.

She probably looked like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it.

She hadn’t always lacked confidence in her looks.

As a child, she had often been told she was pretty—especially about her striking eye color.

But the past three years, filled with curses, abuse, and humiliation, had shredded any self-esteem she once had.

And yet… Ulrich, of all people—even if it was for business—was saying this to her?

“Now, listen.” He gently withdrew his arm from the chair and took her hand again.

The warmth and firmness of his grip sent a ticklish sensation fluttering beneath her ribs, as if her bones were being brushed with feathers.

With a dazed look, Sasha gazed up at him as if entranced.

“I’m not asking for a lifelong commitment. Just two years. If you become my wife for two years, it’ll be beneficial for both of us. And Kiril will be guaranteed a safe and comfortable life as well.”