To My Gentle Dictator – Chapter 027

“You fought with your fiancé, didn’t you?”

Madam Sonya, her gaze sharp as ever, scrutinized Sasha before whispering softly.

Sasha swallowed hard.

It felt like swallowing razor blades.

If only they had fought—how much easier that would be.

Since that day, she hadn’t seen Ulrich, hadn’t even heard his voice.

Before, even if they couldn’t meet often, he’d call the townhouse every day to speak with her. But now, days had passed in complete silence, and the ache from his absence was almost unbearable.

‘Maybe I was born with the talent of driving men away.’

She felt sure now that she was a rotten apple.

Her brother, Vasily, Kiril—and now Ulrich, too…

“It’s just… things got a little tangled up, that’s all.”

Sasha smiled as she spoke calmly.

Letting her unsettled emotions show like this was never a good look.

Madam Sonya nodded as if she understood everything.

“Weddings are never easy. It’s when women are at their most sensitive. But you should know this—it’s hard to find a man these days who’s willing to spend this much money on a wedding. It’s not just in our country either. Take the Princess of Britania, for instance—she’s getting married soon too, but her groom is flat broke…”

“…She’s getting married too, is she?”

The Velus imperial family shared blood ties with royal families all across the continent, and the Princess of Britania was, technically, Sasha’s cousin.

She remembered meeting her just once, when they were very young.

That fact no longer held any meaning.

During the revolution, Britania’s royal family ignored Velus’s pleas for help, and after Red Friday, Sasha and Kiril had been left completely alone.

Not a single one of their countless relatives so much as tried to help them.

She didn’t particularly blame them—everyone had their own circumstances.

Still, the fact that the first person to reach out to her wasn’t family but Ulrich—someone bound by neither blood nor duty—struck her deeply.

“Oh my, now that I think about it—are your weddings on the same day?”

“…What?”

At the sudden remark, Sasha’s eyes widened.

Madam Sonya paused in fastening the dress under Sasha’s arm and picked up a magazine from a nearby table.

“They’ve been going on about it for months now, so I remembered. I think it was mentioned here too… Oh, here it is. Your wedding is on May 14th, right?”

“Yes, but…”

“Looks like you’ll be getting married the same day as the princess. Quite a coincidence.”

Sasha didn’t know what to say.

Was it really a coincidence?

Ulrich had been the one to set their wedding date.

No matter how she thought about it, there was no reason for Ulrich to deliberately match it with Britania’s royal wedding.

As Madam Sonya returned the magazine to its place, she misunderstood Sasha’s conflicted expression.

“Now, now, it’s not like you’re even in the same country. So what if the weddings overlap? No need to feel bad about it. Besides, like I said, her groom’s got no money. Word is, she’s scraping together ration coupons just to afford a dress. You and her—there’s no comparison.”

Since she hadn’t felt bad to begin with, Sasha simply nodded quietly.

After the dress fitting ended and Madam Sonya had left, Sasha sat alone at the dining table for lunch.

She figured she should eat something, at least to keep herself going for the afternoon schedule, but she still had no appetite.

She was about to push her plate away after eating just half a bowl of kasha when—

“Please finish your meal.”

The sudden voice startled Sasha, and she turned her head in surprise.

Yekov had approached the table, speaking in a formal but courteous tone.

“If you’re feeling unwell, I can summon Mr. Igor.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t have much of an appetite…”

“This has been going on for several days.”

“…”

Sasha was at a loss for words.

Yekov glanced at her thin wrist, then spoke more softly.

“You need to finish everything. If you keep this up, the Director will become worried.”

“…Yes.”

Sasha straightened up in her seat.

Her mind snapped awake.

If this continued, she would only end up causing Ulrich unnecessary concern.

‘If Yekov’s saying this, I must look really bad…’

The thought that she’d been acting like a child throwing a tantrum brought another wave of self-loathing.

Just recently, she’d never even dreamed of living in this kind of luxury—what on earth was she doing now?

Still, her lack of appetite was something she couldn’t control.

She forced herself to eat the remaining food, bite by painful bite.

* * *

Originally, Sasha was supposed to finish writing the wedding invitations today, but there was a special appointment scheduled for the afternoon.

A meeting with the Supreme Commander.

It was an occasion to express her gratitude—for his permission regarding her marriage to Ulrich, and for his offer to walk her down the aisle in place of her late father.

Considering the reason her father had died, the whole situation was deeply ironic.

‘If Mother could see me now, she’d spare no criticism.’

Marrying a key figure of the military that tore the imperial family apart—and not only that, but walking down the wedding aisle hand in hand with the very man who ordered the massacre of her family.

Sasha could clearly imagine how it must look. Could anything be more disgraceful or humiliating?

And yet, in this era that had been endlessly cruel to her, things like honor and dignity were worthless relics of the past.

Honor and dignity wouldn’t feed her. They wouldn’t keep her alive.

Most of all, it had been her mother who told her to serve the family however she must.

So everything Sasha was doing now for the sake of her brother’s safety—her mother would understand.

She had to understand.

* * *

The meeting was to be held at the Tremlyn Grand Palace.

Once the Emperor’s office, Tremlyn Grand Palace, like the seasonal palaces where Sasha had spent her childhood, now belonged to the military.

‘I never thought I’d set foot here again.’

The eagle statue that once stood tall at the main gate, symbolizing the Velus imperial family’s majesty, had long since been torn down.

Now, only a lone swan, its surface corroded to a bluish-green hue, remained to guard the fountain in solitude.

“You must miss this place.”

Natasha, who had been silently focused on driving the entire time, suddenly spoke in a blunt tone.

Sasha turned her eyes away from the swan fountain and looked toward the driver’s seat.

“What…?”

“I said, you must miss this place. Didn’t you live here since you were a child?”

“…”

The intent behind the words was clear, and Sasha didn’t bother responding.

Even if she said that she had only visited Tremlyn occasionally, having lived primarily in the seasonal palaces as a child, what meaning would it hold now?

She didn’t long for the opulent buildings or the luxurious life—but saying that wouldn’t matter either. She knew all too well that such words would only invite scorn.

So it was better to say nothing at all.

Sasha stared blankly at the swan fountain as it receded into the distance, her cold, clammy hands tightly clasped.

Thanks to not picking at them for the past few days, her freshly painted nails looked far better than before.

During the ride here in Natasha’s car, Sasha had been overwhelmed by anxious thoughts—worrying whether Vasily might be present at the meeting, or whether she, in her nervousness, might make some foolish mistake again. It had nearly sent her spiraling into panic.

‘Will Ulrich be there already? Or will he arrive after me?’

But right now, all she felt was a deep longing for Ulrich.

She knew it was selfish, shameless even—but she wanted him by her side. Desperately, achingly so.

Just as she had for the past three years.