#20. Change (1)
“Pavel? What about Pavel?”
Had he collapsed again?
Sasha’s face twisted with worry. Olga, gasping for breath, finally managed to speak.
“H-He’s… gone!”
“Gone? You mean you don’t know where he is?”
Sasha jumped up in shock.
Still flustered, Olga stammered,
“Well, I saw him walking toward the forest earlier… I thought he was just going for a quick walk nearby, but he didn’t come back. I went out to check, and he wasn’t anywhere to be found! Oh no, my lady!”
Given Olga’s thorough nature, she must have searched everywhere before coming to Sasha.
“He’s not within sight… Where could he have gone? He’s not even in good health…”
Sasha’s face darkened.
No matter how overwhelmed she had been, she should’ve paid attention to Pavel.
How could she let him disappear in the blink of an eye?
Blaming herself and trembling with anxiety, Sasha rushed outside.
“Pavel! Where are you?”
She and Olga searched every corner near the annex until a rustling sound caught their attention.
“There he is!”
“Pavel!”
They saw Pavel approaching from beyond a small shrub.
Sasha ran to him in a hurry.
“Sasha?”
“You…!”
She grabbed his arm and began firing off rapid questions.
“Where did you go? Did something happen? Are you hurt anywhere? Do you feel sick?”
Outwardly, he seemed unharmed—but she couldn’t be sure.
Pavel never showed pain. If he were hiding an injury, she might not even notice.
“If it hurts, you have to tell me, okay? No—let’s go back. I’ll help you undress and—”
“Your hand.”
“…What?”
“Give me your hand.”
When he asked again, Sasha held out her hand curiously.
Pavel opened his small fist over her palm.
“Here. This is for you.”
Something light and fluttery landed softly on her hand.
Sasha looked down in surprise.
…A flower.
A beautiful white blossom, unblemished and in full bloom.
“This is…”
“How is it? You don’t like it?”
“No, it’s lovely. But… why are you giving this to me all of a sudden?”
Her voice held honest confusion. Pavel avoided her gaze.
“You like them.”
So?
The answer didn’t match the question. Sasha tilted her head.
Then, it clicked.
She recognized the flower—it looked just like the one from yesterday.
“Wait… Could it be—?”
She looked up and stared at Pavel’s flushed face, piecing the answer together.
“You didn’t… go all the way back there to pick this for me, did you?”
Pavel hesitated, then slowly nodded.
Still looking at him, she asked again.
“Why?”
“You looked… upset.”
“I thought maybe if you saw something you liked, you’d feel better.”
Hearing his mumbled words, Sasha murmured softly,
“Because I like this flower… That’s why…”
A warmth spread from her palm to her entire body.
Her body, which had been cold ever since meeting Count Tula, was warming up again.
Her tangled thoughts cleared, and her anxious heart began to calm.
She lowered her eyes and gently stroked the petals.
“…Thank you.”
As she touched the velvet-like softness, she recalled yesterday.
“He acted uninterested in flowers, but he remembered I liked them.”
Pavel’s thoughtfulness was touching.
He, who hated moving around, went all that way for her.
He had pretended not to notice, but still remembered what made her smile.
Everything about it… was precious.
Pavel, sneaking glances at her expression, finally smiled.
Just then, Sasha looked up and caught his eyes.
Their gazes locked naturally.
“…”
“…”
A brief silence passed.
Then Sasha’s eyes curved like a crescent moon as she smiled.
All the negativity from meeting Count Tula disappeared with Pavel’s unexpected gift.
“Really… thank you.”
Sasha repeated her thanks. Pavel scratched his cheek awkwardly.
“It’s nothing.”
“No—it means a lot to me.”
Sasha’s sparkling eyes turned back to the flower in her hand.
“Because to me, it’s not nothing.”
Pavel stared at the beautiful arc of her smiling lips.
“Yeah… Sasha looks best when she smiles like that.”
He didn’t even realize what this feeling was, but he made a vow:
“I want to keep making her smile like this.”
Sunlight poured gently onto their shoulders. The boy and girl smiled at each other.
That night, Sasha sang a song to Pavel as he lay in bed.
It was a lullaby—a song she only sang on good days, one whose lyrics he couldn’t understand.
Sasha said it was a lullaby a mother would sing to her child.
He wanted to know what country it was from, but Sasha didn’t say.
“It’s a song from a very faraway place. Somewhere you can’t go in this lifetime.”
She only gave a cryptic smile.
A place unreachable in this life? Then could I go there in my next one? And would my mother be there?
Pavel, lost in thought, closed his eyes as Sasha sang.
His back ached from bending so long to pick the perfect flower.
But he didn’t let it show. He hadn’t done it to earn praise.
“The fact that Sasha smiled again was more than enough reward.”
…Though the pain remained.
As he clenched his teeth through it, Sasha’s song continued.
He didn’t understand the words, but her gentle voice alone made it beautiful.
Listening quietly, his pain slowly faded.
With a peaceful smile, Pavel fell into a light sleep.
Count Tula would be happiest if Pavel remained incompetent.
“If the only heir proved unworthy, it would be easier for Count Tula to seize the title without objection.”
Instead of being seen as stealing from his nephew, the public might even praise the outcome.
“That can’t be allowed.”
Sasha decided to change how people viewed Pavel.
The first step was to help him grow.
She recalled lives where she had been a tutor.
Whether teaching noble children or working as an elite coach, she had the experience.
“If I use those memories well, I can shape Pavel into a proper heir in no time.”
The very next day, Sasha got to work.
She created a lesson plan and headed to Pavel’s room.
He, as usual, was sprawled on the couch, eyes half-closed.
“Pavel.”
He glanced up, but didn’t move.
“Get up.”
“…?”
He frowned at her insistence.
“Let’s study.”
“…!”
His already dark face stiffened at the word “study.”
Sasha calmly continued, ignoring his expression.
“I made a plan. We’ll start with basics, so it won’t be too hard.”
She showed him the schedule: 1 hour each of etiquette and swordsmanship, five days a week.
“Etiquette” covered history, literature, philosophy, and the arts—essential knowledge for nobles.
But why lump them all together as just ‘etiquette’?
Because if I listed them individually, it’d look like too much.
Even smart kids hate studying.
Especially Pavel.
“He’s barely had formal education—just sitting at a desk will be hard.”
So she needed to make it seem light and easy.
“It took serious effort to design this program. I hope he’ll go along with it.”
She proudly looked over the schedule she made.
Sasha pinned it beside Pavel’s desk and opened the first book.
“Let’s start with this.”
“….”
Pavel frowned, but didn’t refuse.
At some point, he’d stopped saying no to Sasha. As if he always had to do what she said.
Neither of them realized it—this quiet change.
With her student calmly seated, Sasha began the history lesson.
“A thousand years ago, during what we call the ‘Golden Age’…”
It just so happened—the Golden Age was when Sasha lived as a physician in a past life.
Thanks to those memories, she added vivid stories and made the lesson fun.
Pavel listened quietly, as if hearing a fairy tale.
Her firsthand details kept him interested, and he completed the lesson without boredom.
The first day went smoothly. The second was fine too.
But on the third day, a problem arose…
