MLHRGD 18

#18. Partner (4)

A gentle, even breath spread through the warmly heated room.

In the peaceful atmosphere, Sasha quietly held Pavel’s hand in hers like a prayer, thinking through what needed to be done.

The first task was clear:

“I need to meet with Count Tula.”

Was he simply a busy uncle unable to care for his nephew while managing the family in his brother’s absence?

Or was he the mastermind pulling strings from the shadows?

Sasha had to uncover the truth about the man who made her feel nothing but unease.

It was a full day later when she finally received a reply to her request to meet Count Tula.

A butler, waiting by the castle’s rear gate, bowed politely.

“It’s been a while, young madam.”

“Young madam,” huh?

Sasha scoffed inwardly.

Did these people truly see her as the lady of the house?

The disrespectful attitude from the annex staff, the veiled hostility in the eyes of the main house servants now—everything contradicted that title.

If they truly respected her as “young madam,” such treatment would’ve never occurred.

She wanted to ask him outright: “Do you really think of me as your master?”

But now wasn’t the time to reveal her cards. Sasha simply returned the greeting with composed elegance.

“Hello.”

“This way, please.”

She followed the butler with her posture perfectly straight.

As they walked from the entrance to the office, the servants openly stared instead of greeting her.

Their gazes didn’t regard her as a noble lady of the house but as a nuisance, a trespasser.

The more she felt those pointed looks, the more her guard rose.

“This is the place.”

In front of an ornate door, the butler knocked.

“Young madam has arrived.”

While waiting for a response, Sasha adjusted her appearance, not wanting to show even a single flaw.

Soon a voice inside gave permission to enter.

As the door opened, Count Tula sat behind a massive desk—his attire immaculate.

Even when he saw her, he didn’t rise from his seat.

Technically, as Pavel’s uncle, he was still subordinate to the Grand Duke.

As the wife of the heir, Sasha deserved full respect.

But Count Tula clearly had no intention of observing proper manners.

‘As I thought.’

The disquiet she had felt since the wedding became certainty.

Sasha slowly approached, and Count Tula glanced up at her only briefly.

Still seated, he asked with an air of indifference:

“Well then, Alexandra. What brings you here?”

He spoke in a kind, avuncular tone—like he was talking to a niece he hadn’t seen in a while.

But he didn’t wait for her answer before returning his gaze to the papers on his desk.

“So he’s trying to belittle me openly. He’s more blatant than I expected.”

If Sasha had been just a normal teenage girl with no past-life memories, she might have withered under such pressure.

But she had lived and died dozens of times.

“At least he’s easy to read. That makes things simpler.”

Deciding to feign vulnerability, Sasha acted the part of the timid young noblewoman.

“Uncle Gregory, how have you been?”

“Well, I’ve been just fine.”

He didn’t bother to ask how she was doing. The coldness in his silence was clear.

Still, Sasha smiled warmly and continued.

“Thanks to your kind words at the wedding, I’ve been doing well. You told me I could always lean on you, remember?”

She gave him the impression she had believed that honeyed lie with all her heart.

“That’s why I came. I have something I’d like to discuss.”

“What is it?”

Count Tula finally put down his documents and stood.

“Tell your uncle everything.”

He gestured for her to sit on the sofa, his tone affectionate—her obedient behavior apparently pleasing him.

Sasha lowered her eyes with a bashful expression and said:

“Yes, then I’ll trust you with this.”

“Of course.”

With exaggerated courage, she spoke in a small but firm voice.

“I’d like to replace the staff working in the annex.”

“The staff?”

Tula raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Why do you say that?”

“They’re not fulfilling their duties.”

“Not fulfilling their duties…”

He didn’t seem very surprised. His lukewarm tone gave away nothing.

To get a stronger reaction, Sasha began listing her grievances.

“When I ring for service, they come late—sometimes not at all. When I scold them, they claim they’re too busy.”

“Hm.”

“They don’t clean properly. Dust piles up, and the floor is soaked because they don’t wring the mop right. I’ve nearly slipped several times.”

She spoke like any pampered noble girl would—petty complaints delivered with a child’s pout.

All part of her act, to play into Count Tula’s assumption that she was just a helpless girl.

It seemed to work.

After pretending to think, he said:

“That can’t be helped. The annex is small, we can’t assign too many servants. Fewer hands mean more work. Imbalance is inevitable.”

Can’t be helped?

Sasha’s eyebrows twitched.

“I told you before—it’s a cramped and uncomfortable place. Come stay in the main house instead.”

Now she understood his hostility earlier—he didn’t like that she’d refused to live in the main house.

Now that she was asking for his help and acting dependent, he finally softened.

“What a petty man.”

Sasha noted the smallness of his character behind her placid smile.

But outwardly, she continued her performance.

“But that’s not all. Just yesterday, even though they knew Pavel was allergic to mushrooms, they didn’t warn me. He nearly died!”

She placed a hand over her chest, acting like the memory still terrified her.

Count Tula stroked his chin and replied, “Yes, I heard about that. But the doctor treated him, and he’s fine now, isn’t he?”

Apparently, he hadn’t been told that Sasha was the one who saved Pavel.

“If he knew that, he wouldn’t have let his guard down so easily.”

Still, Sasha pressed on.

“We were lucky. If I had acted just a little later, Pavel might’ve died.”

“Is that so?”

Tula clicked his tongue—but he didn’t sound relieved. If anything, he sounded disappointed.

Like he had hoped Pavel wouldn’t make it.

That thought made Sasha’s stomach churn, but she kept her calm.

“It’s true the annex is small, and I understand it might be hard to staff. But this is different.”

She invoked the Volkov family’s honor deliberately to provoke his pride.

“Letting something this dangerous go unmentioned—that’s not just neglect. It’s malice.”

“Neglect? Malice? That’s quite the accusation…”

He sighed. “Fine, I’ll give them a warning.”

…That’s it?

Before Sasha could protest, he spoke again.

“But dismissing them? That’s excessive. Firing staff over something like this would damage the family’s reputation.”

So no punishment for nearly killing the heir?

That was a message to all the staff: Pavel doesn’t matter.

Sasha couldn’t stay quiet anymore, but Count Tula cut her off.

Gone was his soft demeanor. He now reprimanded her sternly.

“You clearly don’t understand what it means to be part of House Volkov.”

“What…?”

Sasha kept her guard up as he continued.

“I hope you realize your place—after all, I’m the one who recommended you.”

“…What?”

He smirked at her surprise.

“Why do you think my brother chose you as Pavel’s bride? A penniless count’s daughter with a troubled past?”

Indeed, Sasha had wondered that herself.

Why her, with her poor background and bad rumors?

And now the answer:

“Because I recommended you to him.”