To My Gentle Dictator – Chapter 009

If she turned back now just because she feared the consequences, there was no telling when she would ever get another chance to meet Ulrich.

If she was doomed to remain in this hell anyway, then she had to do everything she could for her brother. Clenching her resolve, Sasha forced herself to focus on her surroundings.

She couldn’t just lie in bed and waste time until Ulrich returned. Maybe it was because it had been far too long since she had last allowed herself to simply rest.

‘It should be fine if I just take a quick look around…’

Like a visitor in a museum, she cautiously began exploring the bedroom, which was several times larger than her own apartment.

The space was a seamless blend of old-world grandeur and modern sophistication, an elegant harmony between the past and present.

Through the glass doors of the balcony, she could see a vast cypress-lined road stretching into the distance, the bustling Nevroski Avenue meeting the blue expanse of the river, and the graceful red bridge arching over the water.

It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight, so open and expansive that she felt her chest lighten just looking at it.

But then, suddenly, she stepped back.

The crushing weight of reality struck her all at once—this world was moving forward, changing, thriving. And she alone was standing still.

A prosperity that had completely excluded her. Now and forever.

Swallowing the familiar bitterness, Sasha turned away, searching for something else to look at.

She wandered toward one of the walls, where a row of etchings depicting pastoral landscapes stretched from end to end. She traced each one with her eyes, letting the small details sink in, until she finally stopped in front of the mantelpiece.

There, above the blocked fireplace, sat a framed black-and-white photograph.

Two men dressed in hunting attire stood beside a blonde woman, all three smiling warmly for the camera.

Sasha didn’t know Ulrich’s parents. By the time she had met him, both had already passed away. All she knew was that Ulrich’s mother had come from the same region as her own mother—

Doichen. A country that had been Velus’ enemy during the world war.

Still, even without anyone telling her, she instinctively knew that the beautiful woman in the photograph was Ulrich’s mother.

The resemblance was unmistakable.

If Ulrich had been born a woman, he would have looked exactly like this.

A human being so exquisitely crafted—like roses and diamonds melded into divine perfection.

The man standing to the left, his arm wrapped around the woman’s waist, appeared to be Ulrich’s father.

The man on the right, however, was someone Sasha recognized.

It was Kryuchkov Proverka—Vasily’s father and the current Supreme Commander of the regime.

As Sasha stood there, staring at the photo as if mesmerized, she suddenly heard a sharp tap—something striking against the glass.

Tap. Tap.

The sound came from the balcony.

A small pebble had been tossed from somewhere, knocking against the closed glass doors.

‘Who…?’

Sasha hesitated, stepping cautiously toward the balcony—only to freeze in place the moment she saw what was outside.

* * *

The atmosphere in the Supreme Council’s conference room at Tremlyn Palace was tense and restless.

Twenty minutes had passed since the scheduled breakfast meeting, and yet the Supreme Commander, the General Secretary himself, had yet to appear.

Bored and hungry, the officials had broken off into small groups, sipping vodka, chain-smoking, and making idle conversation.

Gathering a room full of men who each believed themselves to be the true power behind the regime—it was only a matter of time before idle chatter turned into heated arguments.

Eventually, Vasily made his way to his father’s office himself.

“Father, I think it’s time to start the meeting.”

“Has the Security Chief arrived yet?”

“…No, not yet. But everyone has been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“It won’t be any fun without Yuri. You handle it.”

Kryuchkov didn’t even glance up from his chessboard, casually waving the hand that held his cigarette.

The cigarette had been a gift from Ulrich, brought back from the New World colony of Camiria.

The Minister of Health, who was playing against the Supreme Commander, gave Vasily a vague smile.

Vasily clenched his jaw and turned on his heel.

‘What the hell is so special about him?’

For the past three years, everything had run just fine without Ulrich. And yet, the moment he returned, everyone was losing their minds over him.

The most infuriating part was his father’s behavior—but for now, Vasily had something even more troubling to deal with.

As he walked down the corridor lined with towering cream-colored columns, he recalled the place he had stopped by earlier that morning—

Sasha’s apartment.

An empty Sasha’s apartment.

And now, Ulrich was late to the meeting.

Vasily quietly ran through the report he had received from his informant in the NSS.

‘The girl showed up in front of his building, and Ulrich took her inside.’

Anyone else might dismiss it as paranoia. But Vasily couldn’t shake the thought from his mind.

Fifteen minutes ago, he had called Ulrich’s apartment, and that smug assistant of his had casually informed him that Ulrich had spent the night at his townhouse.

Then, when Vasily called the townhouse, the old butler had said Ulrich had left five minutes ago.

Whatever the reason for his delay, Ulrich was likely on his way here now.

Vasily glanced into the noisy conference room, then quietly slipped away.

The staff at Ulrich’s townhouse had been managing the estate since before the revolution.

They had all known Vasily since childhood, given how frequently their families interacted, so none of them found it odd when he showed up unannounced.

“Lieutenant General? The Director just left a short while ago. Didn’t you receive the message when we called?”

“Oh, I must have been too distracted. He’s not usually late like this, so I thought maybe he was still struggling with jet lag. Came to drag him out myself, but I guess we just missed each other.”

“I see. You work hard, sir.”

“You’re the one working hard, Yekov. By the way… does he have a guest over?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why do you ask?”

The old butler’s expression remained completely impassive as he responded.

Vasily, smirking playfully, answered just as casually,

“Sleeping in doesn’t sound like Yuri. I was wondering if he snuck an affair back from Latunia.”

“Oh, sir.”

“Well, never mind then. Oh, and do me a favor—don’t mention that I stopped by. It’d be embarrassing if he found out.”

Yekov nodded smoothly, as if to say he understood completely.

Vasily flashed him a sheepish smile and a polite nod before stepping out of the hall.

Passing by the driveway where his car was parked, he decided to take a walk through the garden to cool his head.

‘Arrogant bastards.’

The staff here were as untrustworthy as their master. Especially that old snake of a butler.

But there was no way he could start tearing through someone else’s house unsupervised.

‘Where the hell did that woman go?’

In that state, where had she gone slinking off to?

The answer to that question came to him far sooner than expected.

From the garden leading to the cypress-lined road, he caught a glimpse of a small figure moving behind one of the windows.

Vasily came to an abrupt stop, staring up at the window as if hypnotized.

“…Ha.”

A laugh of disbelief escaped him.

The window was partly obscured by the shadows of a golden chain tree, making the details unclear—but Vasily didn’t need to see clearly. He could recognize Sasha just from her silhouette.

They always say bad feelings never fail to come true. And wasn’t this just the perfect example?

His steps carried him forward, until he stood right below the balcony.

Bending down, he picked up a few pebbles and tossed them at the closed glass doors. Inside, the woman he had spotted wandering the room soon began making her way toward the balcony.

The moment Sasha saw who had thrown the pebbles, she froze in place.

The warmth that had briefly returned to her face drained completely, leaving her as pale as a ghost.

Vasily, hands stuffed into his pockets, lazily gazed up at the balcony. Inside, however, he was swallowing down a storm of rage.

That room above him—it was the master suite of this estate.

And standing inside it, dressed in nothing but a flimsy, near-transparent dress, was Sasha.

Inside Ulrich’s private residence. Inside his bedroom.

At that moment, whatever rational thoughts had been holding him together vanished completely.

That idiotic woman—what the hell was she doing up there?

‘Come down.’

 

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