#143. Someone’s Memory (3)
Sasha finished reading Pavel’s letter in one breath. She stood frozen, not knowing what to do.
The trembling that started in her hand spread through her whole body.
“This letter… this is…”
She couldn’t bring herself to say aloud what she had realized.
For the first time ever, she hated looking at one of Pavel’s letters—letters she always welcomed with joy until now.
Sasha glared at Pavel’s letter with a pained expression, then, unable to endure it any longer, ran out while still holding it.
“Lady Sasha?”
Nina tried to follow her in surprise, but Sasha told her she was fine and not to follow. Then she sprinted toward her destination.
Her heart raced. Her breath caught in her throat. She felt dizzy, like she might collapse.
But Sasha didn’t stop.
The urgency to check Pavel’s hidden safe pushed her forward.
She burst open the door to Pavel’s study—his private space she normally never entered without permission.
The room looked the same as it had before Pavel left.
Because the owner was away, the place collected dust more easily, so the servants cleaned it regularly—but no one touched anything inside.
Not even Sasha ever touched his belongings.
Pavel always said everything of his was hers too, that she could take or use anything she wanted.
But because he said that, she had tried even harder to respect his space.
This was the first time she entered and touched things so freely.
Moving without her usual caution, Sasha followed the instructions Pavel had written.
She ran to the bookshelf filling one wall of the study— the second one from the left.
“This book?”
Her eyes scanned quickly. She found the green book Pavel described.
She pulled it out, flipped it over, and pressed twice with firm pressure.
Then—
Tzzzz—!
A faint blue light shimmered, and mana trembled in the air.
Strange symbols floated in the air, and the room vibrated slightly.
Sasha recognized it as a magic security seal—and that it was unlocking right now.
Click!
The bookshelf shook, then split open to reveal a hidden space.
Inside was the safe Pavel had mentioned.
“It’s here…”
Sasha swallowed hard and reached out with trembling hands to open it.
But—
Clank, clank!
The safe was locked.
“How do I open this?”
Pavel hadn’t written anything about how to unlock it.
As she hesitated, Sasha suddenly noticed something familiar—a small indentation around the lock.
“…No way.”
She looked down at her chest, then acted immediately.
She removed the pendant she always wore and placed it into the indentation. It fit perfectly.
Click.
The lock released, and the safe opened.
Sasha stared blankly at the pendant.
When did he build something like this…?
It seemed the safe was designed so only Pavel and Sasha—who shared matching pendants—could open it.
“Haa…”
Sasha sighed, overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t explain.
Inside the safe were many documents.
Very important ones, judging by the fact Pavel kept them here.
But Sasha’s eyes focused only on the envelope lying on top.
On its surface, in Pavel’s familiar handwriting, was a single word:
<Last Will>
Her worst fear had come true.
Biting her lip, Sasha picked up the will and unfolded it, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
Just like the cover, the will was written in Pavel’s handwriting—filled completely with dense lines of text.
But the shocking part was that every line of the long will was about Sasha.
Everything was about protecting her, helping her survive alone, guiding her after his death.
Since all of House Volkov’s direct line was dead, the title and family leadership would normally go to a distant branch.
But Pavel wanted everything he had to go to Sasha.
He had searched through old books and law codes to find proof that Sasha had legitimate inheritance rights, and wrote them all clearly.
– Therefore, the next Grand Duke of Volkov should rightfully be Alexandra Volkov.
Pavel didn’t stop there.
He knew Sasha’s future as the new family head would be harsh, so he left warnings for anyone who might look down on her.
He wrote that everyone in the family must treat Sasha exactly the same as they treated Pavel.
He repeated this several times:
– Everything I own will belong to my wife, Alexandra Volkov.
Sasha bit her lip.
But she couldn’t hold back her emotions when she reached the final lines.
– And if she ever has a child…
– That child shall become the heir.
Sasha’s breath caught.
Why… why would he write such an impossible will?
She closed her eyes tightly, unable to calm her racing heart.
She knew Pavel loved her.
He showed it through his words, his actions, his gaze—always.
And she thought she understood how deeply he loved her.
She knew he felt more intensely than she did—after all, he was the one who refused even the idea of divorce, who glared with murderous jealousy at any man near her, who couldn’t stand being apart from her.
But to her, that wasn’t strange.
Love can make people behave like that.
But this…
This was far beyond what she had imagined.
A pure love that wanted only Sasha’s happiness—even after his death.
Even if she met another man.
Even if she had another man’s child.
He was declaring that he would still accept the child as long as it was Sasha’s.
Sasha remembered Pavel’s favorite phrase:
“Everything of mine is yours, so do whatever you want.”
There had never been a lie in those words.
“Haa…”
A wave of indescribable emotion washed over her.
She felt warm and loved… but also sorrowful, imagining how long Pavel must have agonized while preparing this will.
The deep affection she felt turned into sadness.
Pavel had once been terminally ill. Everyone thought he would die young. Even Pavel had thought so.
Sasha still remembered the shock of their wedding night, when Pavel had thrashed in pain and muttered in his sleep that he refused to die.
He had been just a scared child, constantly aware of death closing in on him.
When she solved the problems caused by the blessing of mana, she thought his fear of death was gone.
But the letter before her showed how seriously Pavel still faced the idea of death.
This was a letter filled with the traces of someone who had thought long and hard about dying—and about what would happen afterward.
It was the only letter from Pavel that brought her anything other than joy.
Sasha stared at the letter for a long time, then held her pendant tightly.
Inside was the drawing Pavel had made for her.
She looked at it for a long moment… then sighed, unable to hold back her longing.
“Come back quickly.”
She missed Pavel desperately.
Sasha took a deep breath, calming her emotions.
“This was written because Pavel thought something might go wrong during the war… so now it isn’t needed anymore.”
She carefully organized the will and began closing the safe.
But then she noticed something odd—one of the papers in the stack had slipped out awkwardly.
If she closed the safe now, it would bend, so she pulled it out to straighten it.
“A drawing?”
The paper wasn’t covered in text—but in a picture.
She checked the rest of the similar papers.
All of them were drawings.
If a painting was kept in this safe, it should be extremely valuable. But these didn’t look like expensive artworks.
Most were simple pencil or pen sketches. Some were lightly colored, but none looked professionally made.
Sasha tilted her head.
“If it’s by a famous artist, even a sketch can be priceless, but…”
The value would depend entirely on who drew them.
She examined the drawings more closely.
And the moment she looked at the lines—uneven and not perfectly clean—
“Ah…!”
Sasha gasped.
The model in the drawings was her.
“Me? This is really me?”
She murmured in disbelief as she looked at the sketches.
It wasn’t her first time being drawn.
In a past life, she had been the muse of a famous painter—Tabarishi, the light mage and artist who had been her dear friend when she lived as Hirote.
His paintings of her were breathtaking and filled with warm emotion.
She remembered his words:
“My paintings bring joy, but you save lives.
I admire you so much.
It’s my honor that you’re my friend.”
She could feel his sincerity in every brushstroke.
Sasha had always loved that raw, genuine affection in his art, so she gladly became his model whenever he asked.
But the feeling she got from Pavel’s drawings…
was even stronger.
He wasn’t trained like Tabarishi, so his technique couldn’t compare—but the love in the lines was just as deep, maybe deeper.
Every stroke showed how precious she was to him.
And then Sasha realized something else.
“He drew this many…?”
There was a huge pile—enough to bind into a thick book.
Sasha looked through them one by one.
The top drawings were recent.
As she flipped back, the drawings were older and older.
She felt shy, almost ticklish, as if she were peeking into Pavel’s memories.
“…So this is how you always saw me.”
She had thought the portrait in her pendant was drawn especially beautifully.
But she was wrong.
To Pavel…
Sasha had always been this beautiful.
