MLHRGD 115

#115. The Empty Seat (3)

Sasha was dreaming.

Even through the haze, she knew this wasn’t reality.

But her body wouldn’t move as she wished.

In the dream, she was like a puppet being controlled by someone else.

The feeling of moving against her will was uncomfortable.

The place where dream-Sasha stood was dark and damp. There seemed to be an unpleasant smell.

But dream-Sasha was in no state to complain.

“Don’t die, you mustn’t die…”

Dream-Sasha was crying.

Like a broken faucet that wouldn’t stop, her tears kept flowing.

They pooled at her chin, then fell—though they never reached the floor.

“Haa.”

Tears from dream-Sasha fell onto a man’s face, neck, and chest as he lay in her arms.

She couldn’t tell what he looked like.

Partly because her view was blurred by tears, and partly because the man in her arms was covered in blood so badly that his face couldn’t be seen properly.

The deep gash on his forehead wasn’t his only wound. It explained the blood all over his face, but what made Sasha beg him not to die was the wound on his chest.

More exactly—a sword was stuck in his chest.

Blood kept flowing from the spot where the sword had pierced him. No matter how hard Sasha pressed, the wound wouldn’t close, and the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

Dream-Sasha was in agony.

He was the one struck, yet she felt a pain like her own chest had been pierced.

Maybe because it was a dream, she knew the reason.

The man was someone she loved. Just as Sasha loved Pavel, dream-Sasha loved this man.

All her love was directed at him, so now that he was on the brink of death, it was natural she felt a pain like dying.

The man coughed, spitting blood.

“○○—!”

Sasha called his name—but it was muffled, like it had been deliberately smudged, and she couldn’t hear it.

The man must have heard her, though. At her desperate call, he opened his eyes.

With a fading gaze, he looked at Sasha and moved his lips. He seemed to be saying something, but she couldn’t make it out.

When dream-Sasha lowered her head and brought her ear to his mouth, a voice that seemed about to go out at any moment reached her.

“In the next life, I’ll come find you. If we can’t meet then, I’ll look for you in the life after that, and the life after that—only you.”

So then—

“Wait for me.”

With those words, the thin thread of his breath finally broke.

Dream-Sasha’s heart seemed to stop right then. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to die and follow him at once…

“—Hah!”

Sasha gulped in air and opened her eyes.

Her chest heaved. It felt tight, weighed down by heavy emotions.

She blinked her heavy eyelids and saw the pale light of dawn.

‘It was a dream…’

In the quiet morning, only her uneasy breath filled the air.

No, not only hers.

“Sasha.”

There was someone else here—someone whose voice filled this silent room.

“…Pavel.”

When she called him in a rough voice, Pavel—already sitting up—reached a hand toward her.

His slender fingers brushed her forehead. Cold sweat clung to his fingertips.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“Mm…”

Sasha murmured.

“It wasn’t a nightmare, exactly—just a strange dream. Maybe because you’re leaving, I had a dream like that.”

Pavel looked at her with silent regret. Knowing he was the cause of her distress left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Lost in the aftertaste of the dream, Sasha didn’t notice.

At last, the time she wished would not come arrived.

All soldiers and knights, except the minimum needed to guard the castle and lands, began to gather in one place.

Sasha looked out the window at the lined-up troops, then turned away.

“Where’s Pavel?”

Departure time was near. It wasn’t late yet, but at this rate, it might be.

She watched the attendants searching here and there, calling for Pavel. Not wanting to leave it to them alone, Sasha decided to look for him too.

But he wasn’t in his bedroom, nor in hers, nor in his study or office.

“Where could he be?”

She tilted her head, propping her chin on her hand. She’d checked every place he might be, yet couldn’t find so much as a hair.

Maybe he’d gone outside?

“Then maybe the training hall…”

Bedroom, dining hall, training hall, study, and Sasha’s room.

Pavel’s routine had always been simple; there weren’t many places he would go.

He wasn’t anywhere else, so the training hall seemed the best bet.

Just as Sasha was about to start walking—

“Woof!”

“Aika?”

The dog that had drooped all day yesterday—no, now a full-grown, large gray hound—came running to her.

“Woof! Woof!”

“Aika. Don’t bark loudly indoors.”

“Whine…”

Even with ears drooping under Sasha’s scolding, Aika kept circling around her without stopping.

“What is it? Do you want to tell me something?”

“Woof!”

As if she understood Sasha’s words, Aika barked loudly.

Then, before Sasha could scold her again, she gently took hold of Sasha’s skirt hem and tugged her forward.

Only then did Sasha grasp what the speechless dog wanted.

“You want me to follow you?”

“Woof!”

Aika let go of the fabric and barked excitedly.

She wagged her tail in big sweeps and trotted ahead, urging Sasha to come.

Aika even went up the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

Sasha followed, puzzled, because the dog’s four feet moved with such purpose, as if there were a clear destination.

Finally, in the second-floor corridor, Aika stopped.

“Woof!”

Her tail thumped the floor while her muzzle pointed forward. Sasha followed the line of her nose.

Pavel stood before a wall hung with portraits of successive heads of the house.

‘Is he looking at his father?’

Sasha pressed a hand to her aching chest and walked over to him.

As she guessed, Pavel stood before the third frame from the end.

There hung a portrait of Dmitri in his youth, wearing a stern expression.

Sensing Sasha approach quietly, Pavel glanced aside.

She greeted him with a smile; he didn’t bother to speak either.

Side by side, the two of them offered the remembrance they hadn’t finished yesterday.

Noise drifted in from outside, but the air before the portraits was still.

After staring a long while at Dmitri’s portrait, Sasha shifted her gaze to the one beside it.

There was a portrait of Pavel, painted for his coming-of-age.

‘They look so alike.’

Dmitri and Pavel—father and son—were similar overall, but especially the clear eyes and the stubborn set of the mouth looked exactly the same.

The Volkov blood was truly strong.

Sasha’s eyes moved to the last portrait.

It was a couple’s portrait: Pavel dressed the same as in his single portrait, sitting beside Sasha.

Another painting from the same day.

The two were shown holding hands, seated close and warm.

“I’m glad we had this painted in advance.”

At Sasha’s voice breaking the quiet, Pavel turned his head.

Still looking at the portrait, she continued:

“While you’re gone, I’ll come here often. I’ll look at this and remember our time together—and think about everything we’ll do when you return.”

After a brief silence, Pavel said:

“Next time, let’s have one painted of the three of us.”

“The three of us?”

“You, me, and our child. Three.”

Sasha’s eyes widened at his words.

A child.

It wasn’t something she’d been thinking about at this moment, but it wasn’t out of place for Pavel to say it.

In fact, it was strange they hadn’t talked about it sooner.

Nobles had a duty to produce an heir and continue the family line.

Until now, Pavel had been young, so the topic hadn’t come up. From now on, talk of an heir would only increase.

The Volkovs had few children, and with war sending men to the front, it would be a problem if the succession were uncertain.

Sasha knew all that. Even so…

There was a secret she still hadn’t told Pavel. She bit the inside of her cheek and barely kept her expression steady.

But Pavel seemed to catch the momentary break in her face.

“Why—”

“Ah, Pavel, wait.”

Before he could ask, Sasha cut in.

Then she took out a pendant from her bosom.

It was the same shape and size as the one hanging at her neck.

It had been made to match the pendant Pavel had bought her the first time they went out to the shops together—so of course it looked identical.

But the contents were different.

Pavel’s gift had a drawing of Sasha he’d made himself. This one held a relic Sasha had chosen with great care.

“Yesterday, you were worrying about how you’d bear it when you missed me.”

Smiling slightly, Sasha went on:

“If you really, really miss me and can’t stand it, open this and call me.”

She explained how to use the relic inside the pendant.

It carried a kind of communication magic—so even over long distances, they could see each other’s faces and speak.

“There’s a limit to how many times we can use it, but when you can’t stand missing me—at least a few times we can talk—ah!”

She didn’t finish.

Overwhelmed by the unexpected gift, Pavel lifted her into his arms and kissed her fervently.

Sunlight from the tall window flooded over the couple like a warm veil.

An attendant searching for Pavel happened to find them, but turned away without a sound, holding his breath.

The two shared a deep and lingering farewell.

Pavel left.

Standing on the ramparts, Sasha watched until the army he led vanished from sight, and let out a faint sigh.

Snow that had fallen since morning still drifted onto her hair.

In this cold breath of air, the absence of those dear to her would feel even larger.

Bellicordo Castle without Pavel, without Dmitri, without Andrei and Nikolai.

Sasha turned to look back at the gray fortress. It had always felt bleak, but now it seemed desolate.

But she had to get used to it.

She swallowed the bitterness and turned away.

Only the trampled, muddy ground—stamped by countless boots—showed that the soldiers had been here moments ago.

Sasha traced with her eyes the spot where Pavel had stood, lingering a little longer. She wanted to stand here until sunset.

However—

“My lady, if you stay like this, your health may suffer badly.”

Nina’s wavering voice pulled her back. The flustered girl—who knew when she’d come—had chapped, reddened cheeks.

She wasn’t alone.

A shadow stretched over Sasha’s head, and the snow stopped falling on her. A thick fur cloak settled on her shoulders.

Sasha looked up at those holding an umbrella over her and wrapping her in the cloak.

Yelena and Ivan.

“My lady, please come inside and warm yourself, and rest for today.”

“There’s nothing urgent that must be done now—and even if there is, we’ll handle it. Please, don’t worry and take a break.”

Behind them were familiar faces.

All were people staying at Bellicordo—looking at Sasha with the same worried expression.

“Ah…”

In that moment, understanding came over her.

Sasha drew a deep breath. The cold air swirled in her chest, calming her tangled feelings and thoughts.

“Right. It’s cold. Let’s go in.”

She spoke gently, guiding everyone inside.

She couldn’t spend all day alone, just waiting for those who had gone to war.

Here, Sasha had her own battle to fight.

To keep this place safe until they returned.

It was the task she absolutely had to do.

As she turned back, her figure was steady and strong.

It was the back of someone who keeps watch.