To My Gentle Dictator – Chapter 021

Kiril…

“I spoke with Kiril today, and it turns out he’s not completely uninterested in academics. He has a particular interest in chemistry and physics.”

Sasha recalled how, as a child, Kiril had once received a science experiment kit as a Christmas gift and used it to cause all sorts of bizarre mischief.

While Kiril had always loathed subjects like history and literature, he consistently scored perfect marks in physics and natural sciences.

If only the revolution had never happened…

“If Shura allows it, I was thinking of sending him to the newly established Federal Academy of Sciences as a boarding student.”

To Ulrich, Kiril had no value beyond being a bait to manipulate Sasha.

Keeping Kiril nearby would only serve as an obstacle in taming Sasha.

More than that, he was curious—after three years of unwavering devotion to her brother, would Sasha wither without him? Or would she bloom?

Either way, keeping them apart as much as possible was the best course of action.

As he spoke smoothly, concealing his true intentions, Sasha’s eyes widened in shock.

“R-Really? Is that even possible? Kiril was expelled from the academy—”

“It will be possible if I become the youngest prince’s guarantor.”

Sasha, who was already halfway convinced, felt her heart pound violently—not out of fear this time.

The mere thought of being separated from Kiril already made her chest ache, but Kiril did not want his sister.

More than anything, thinking of his future, this was an incredible opportunity.

Admission to the Academy of Sciences was a dream that even the children of high-ranking officials could rarely achieve.

And with the Director of the NSS as his guarantor, Kiril would not have to worry about unfair treatment.

“T-That you would go so far…”

“It just means that Shura is worth that much.”

At his teasing reply, she swallowed dryly.

She had no way of knowing how Kiril would react to her marrying Ulrich, but one thing was certain—if things continued as they were, Kiril’s future would be doomed to ruin.

Rather than stand by and watch that happen, she would rather endure her brother’s contempt and take Ulrich’s hand.

It was an extraordinary opportunity, nothing short of a heaven-sent blessing. The urge to say yes right away burned inside her.

So why couldn’t she bring herself to say the words?

Why was she hesitating? What was holding her back?

Was she worried that rebellious Kiril might cause trouble for Ulrich?

Or was she afraid of how Vasily would react?

No—it wasn’t just vague fears of things that hadn’t even happened yet that made her waver despite having a miracle within reach.

She was trapped in an endless hell, and now a way out had finally opened. There was no room to hesitate.

And yet, something instinctive, something deeply ingrained in her subconscious, flashed a red warning light.

Ulrich’s gaze darkened as he watched Sasha hesitate, despite wearing the expression of a child lost in a dream.

She couldn’t have seen through his mask—he was certain of that. But something else was weighing on her mind.

People often use the phrase carrot and stick when it comes to taming something.

So far, Ulrich had only ever given Sasha the carrot.

“It seems like something is bothering you.”

“Huh?”

“Should I take a guess? Is it because of Major General Vasily?”

The question carried a double meaning.

Was she hesitating out of fear of Vasily? Or was it because, despite everything, she still had lingering feelings for him?

Sasha’s eyes widened.

“N-No, it’s not that! I—I was never in any kind of relationship with Major General Vasily.”

It seemed she had assumed he meant the latter.

Ulrich let her misinterpretation stand.

“Cutting ties isn’t easy. The more complicated the relationship, the harder it is.”

“No, Ulrich…”

“Still, think it over carefully. Consider accepting my proposal.”

His hand, which had been gently wrapped around hers, slipped away once more.

“Well then, I have work to do. Enjoy the rest of your drink.”

“W-Wait!”

Sasha called out urgently, grabbing hold of Ulrich’s sleeve just as he was about to step away from the table.

Her heart pounded furiously between her ribs.

If things continued like this, Ulrich would forever misunderstand her relationship with Vasily.

“I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”

Ulrich turned his head slightly and simply looked down at her in silence.

Under his unreadable gaze, Sasha hastily scrambled to explain.

“I want to marry you, Ulrich. I always have… What I mean is, I have nothing holding me back. I don’t care what Major General Vasily thinks.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, yes. Really.”

She nodded so vigorously it looked almost comical.

“I was just… I was only hesitating because I was worried that we might bring you trouble.”

Ulrich abandoned his act as the jealous suitor and smiled, a smile that seemed to convey relief.

“That’s good to hear.”

As he settled back into his seat, Sasha’s face burned red like a ripe tomato.

“I appreciate your concern, but if this proposal had more risks than benefits, I wouldn’t have made it in the first place.”

That was true.

Sasha dropped her head slightly, looking somewhat deflated. Ulrich’s fingers gently tilted her chin back up.

“And you don’t have to worry about Major General Vasily anymore. Once you become my wife, no one will ever dare humiliate you again.”

His words, as if he could see straight through her, made Sasha lift her gaze.

The golden light of the setting sun above his hair cast a burning halo around him.

“I promise you. From now on, no one but me will ever lay a finger on you.”

“Ulrich…”

“So promise me something, too.”

His voice was smooth, dreamlike.

With the same dreamlike clarity, his blue eyes shimmered as he calmly extended his pinky finger.

Sasha’s long lashes trembled as though she were drifting through a dream.

“A promise…?”

“Yes. That you’ll never follow anyone else but me again.”

Beyond the window, the deep crimson sunset bathed the cypress-lined road in warm light. Once spring came in full, it would turn into a lush green carpet.

Thinking of that spring, Sasha slowly hooked her finger around his.

“I promise.”

* * *

“Brother, say something! Please?”

Lyudmila’s usual poise was nowhere to be found—she was a complete mess.

Her normally glossy hair was tangled and disheveled, and the smudged trails of mascara around her tear-streaked eyes made her look almost pitiful.

In her thin, trembling hands, she clutched a crumpled copy of the Pravda morning edition, which had clearly been crushed in her grip for quite some time.

But despite his only sister’s distraught state, Vasily barely reacted.

Lyudmila stormed up to where Vasily was slouched in his armchair, chain-smoking, and shoved the wrinkled newspaper right in front of his face.

The front page bore a large article announcing a certain wedding.

Ulrich Kastrov and Aleksandra Pavlovna Fedotova’s marriage.

The mere rumor of the two getting married had been absurd enough. But now, their wedding had been plastered across the front page of a central state newspaper. The very idea reeked of a deliberate, calculated move. And it wasn’t hard to guess whose idea it had been.

“Weren’t you supposed to be keeping Sasha in check? How the hell did this happen?”

She had even forgotten to keep up her usual pretense. The fact that she was speaking so bluntly meant she was well and truly livid.

Not that Vasily felt any different.

He stared blankly into space, his mind hazy.

Lyudmila wasn’t wrong. For the past three years, Sasha had belonged to him—under his control, under his watch.

It was his claim over her that kept every other bastard from even daring to hover around her.

Because they all knew—anyone who tried would need more than just one life to survive the consequences.

At least, that’s how it had been.

Until Ulrich came back.