MLHRGD 58

#58. Growth (1)

Even after the Great Famine and the Karto incident, Sasha continued to fulfill her role splendidly.

She unearthed ancient artifacts, once gathering dust because no one knew how to use them, and put them to practical use.
She anticipated natural disasters ahead of time and prepared for them.

Under her leadership, the Volkoff Duchy enjoyed unprecedented prosperity.

Thanks to this, all dissatisfaction toward her vanished.

As though they had never once doubted her, peasants and retainers alike now formed the majority of her fervent supporters.

Sasha’s popularity reached the point that…

“A group of people who admire and adore Lady Sasha have formed a club, and its name is Sa. Sa. Mo!”

“Sa, Sa, Mo?”

“Yes!”

“Is that… an abbreviation?”

Half in disbelief, Sasha asked. Nina beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Of course Lady Sasha figured it out right away!”

“…”

“It stands for ‘Sasha-nim Saranghae-neun Moim!’ So, SaSaMo!”

Sasha fell silent.

What kind of old-fashioned yet strangely familiar naming sense was this?
Different world or not, human sentiment seemed oddly universal.

Unaware of Sasha’s inner turmoil, Nina eagerly continued explaining about SaSaMo.

“Master Ivan is the president, Lady Yelena is the vice president, and Sir Andrei and Sir Nikolai are executive officers of the knights. They’re tasked with spreading your reputation throughout the order.”

Ivan and Yelena, Sasha could understand.

As for Sir Nikolai—he was naturally sociable and spirited, so joining such a group just to mingle made sense.

No wonder he’s been giving me those mischievous smiles lately.

So that was the reason?

Sasha recalled how Nikolai would greet her cheerfully every time:
“Oh! My lady~! Long time no see!”

She had thought it strange, but never imagined he was secretly part of a fan club.

It wasn’t too surprising coming from Nikolai.

But Andrei?

That taciturn man, obsessed only with sword training—joining a fan club of all things?

Surely Sir Nikolai roped him in as a joke.

Sasha clicked her tongue inwardly.

Meanwhile, Nina, still chattering, suddenly clapped her hands.

“Oh! And the young lord is the honorary president! He’s so busy that he can’t participate much, but since he’s your husband—”

“Wait, wait.”

Sasha flinched, waving her hands.

“Did you just say Pavel? Pavel Volkoff? My husband, Pavel?”

“Yes! The young lord himself!”

…

Sasha rubbed her aching forehead with a wry laugh.

So that was why he hadn’t shown up before her lately—
he’d been busy with this.

“My lady?”

When Sasha abruptly stood, Nina called out in alarm.

Sasha carefully straightened her papers.

“I’m going to get some fresh air.”

And on the way, she fully intended to confront Pavel and ask what on earth he was thinking.

Sasha made her way to Pavel’s private training ground.

At first, he had trained with the knights, but ever since his swordmaster, Sir Sergei Moltalin, arrived, Pavel had been given his own space.

Apparently, Sir Sergei had demanded a large area he could freely use—
a place sturdy enough to withstand any kind of impact.

Just what kind of training needs that…?

As the sounds from the training hall grew louder, Sasha bit her lip.

“How can you be so weak? Do you think you could even swing a sword on the battlefield like that?!”

The booming voice echoed like thunder.

Yelena’s loud, but maybe great swordsmen are all like this.

But the Grand Duke’s voice was never that loud…

Sasha tilted her head when suddenly—

“Woof! Woof!”

Eika came bounding up, pressing her head affectionately against Sasha’s legs.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

She crouched, gently scratching the head of the dog—now far too large to be called a puppy.

“You really are attached to Pavel, aren’t you? Do you like him that much?”

Though she couldn’t possibly understand, Eika barked as if in answer.

“Oh, you’re adorable.”

Sasha smiled softly. Then, from afar, a man noticed her and raised his voice.

“Oh! My lady!”

“Sir Sergei.”

“You’ve come at the perfect time! We just finished training. You can take him with you now.”

“Is that so? Thank you, I’ll take you up on that.”

“If you’re truly grateful, spare some time for me next time! I’d like to finish the discussion we had before.”

“All right.”

Sasha nodded without hesitation. Sergei laughed heartily, then waved farewell and left.

With Sergei gone, Sasha approached Pavel.

“Pavel.”

She reached out with a handkerchief to wipe his sweat.

But with a swift snap of his head, Pavel dodged her touch.

Startled, Sasha froze. Pavel quickly muttered an excuse.

“I smell of sweat.”

Well, of course he did—he looked as though he’d been drenched in rain.

But Sasha didn’t mind in the least.

Since when did you care about that?

Back when they lived in the annex—
when Sasha herself taught him the sword—
he’d been in far worse states.

So why now?

Suppressing the thought, she answered,

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine for me.”

When Pavel refused so firmly, Sasha’s shoulders drooped in disappointment.

But still, he kept her at arm’s length.

Again?

She gave him a faint, reproachful look.

At first, she’d been bewildered. But after being rejected like this several times, it no longer stung as much as the first time.

Still, it left a bitter taste—
especially because it wasn’t only this.

Recently, Pavel had stopped doing all the little things he once did so naturally.

Falling asleep holding her hand.
Sharing light embraces.
Sitting side by side in quiet comfort.

Now, whenever Sasha so much as came close enough to touch him, Pavel would flinch and retreat as though burned.

And the problem was—
she didn’t know why.

Why had he suddenly begun rejecting things he used to accept without hesitation?
Why did he avoid her gaze and presence?

Sasha longed to know the reason.

Was it because of his ability?
Or had she done something wrong?

Worried, she combed through her palace of memories.

Her countless lives had always provided her with useful knowledge.

But nowhere in her memories did she find the answer.

It wasn’t illness.

She’d even asked if she’d said or done something to annoy him. He’d said no.

Then why does he dislike it?

One by one, she ruled out every plausible reason. Nothing fit.

Could it be…

At last, she came up with one more possible explanation.

Is he going through puberty?

He had just turned sixteen—the stormy age.

Mothers often lamented how their once-affectionate sons suddenly grew distant, eager to assert independence.

They hated interference, resented nagging, shied away from touch, and despised being treated like children.

Maybe that’s it.

She searched for another answer, but all signs pointed to this.

Pavel’s in puberty.

Puberty. So he’d already grown that much.

Sasha had always marveled at how quickly he grew, but this time the reality struck her harder.

Soon, Pavel would leave her embrace and stand as a man in his own right.

And one day…

He’ll become someone’s only beloved.

Watching him become a man left Sasha with mixed feelings.

Like eating chocolate: sweet, yet faintly bitter.

With a soft smile, she shook her head.

Yet one question still lingered.

“No matter how much puberty explains… avoiding me this much? What’s the reason, really?”

Flinching even at the slightest touch—it felt too much.

With a faint pout, Sasha sighed.

Though Pavel knew Sasha was hurt by his sudden change, he couldn’t help it.

Just keeping his bewildering state under control was hard enough.

He first noticed the change one evening around his sixteenth birthday.

It had been an ordinary day.

As usual, he approached Sasha’s room.

But just as he reached the threshold, a strange feeling stopped him cold.

His fingertips tingled. A tightness gripped his lower belly.