| Chapter 9: I Do Not Know Him

There was nothing to gain by revealing her emotions here. Natasha steadied herself, recalling the troubles even a fleeting glance toward him had caused her before.

“You worthless insect dares to rifle through your book? And now, you stoop so low as to steal?”

“My… book?”

Natasha’s trembling eyes shifted to the bloodied hands clutching the book. She could barely make out the dark brown cover, but it was unmistakably familiar. It was one of the books she had recently ordered her maid to throw away, claiming it was no longer needed.

“It was a book I had discarded anyway, so it doesn’t matter,” Natasha said, her voice calm despite the scene before her. “More importantly, brother, why don’t you join me for some tea? I just received a new blend, and its fragrance reminded me of you.”

Sergei was pleased by Natasha’s unusually sweet demeanor as she looped her arm through his. It made him all the more eager to assert his dominance in front of the pitiful slave.

“How dare you, lowly wretch, lay your filthy hands on what doesn’t belong to you!”

With that, he stomped mercilessly on the bloodied hand. Natasha could no longer hold back.

“Stop, brother. There is no such thing as a lowly person in this world.”

“What did you just say?”

Sergei’s foot froze mid-stomp, and the trembling hand beneath it stilled. Even through the blood and bruises, a pair of piercing red eyes locked onto Natasha, glowing with defiance.

“Every person deserves to be treated with respect. So please, stop this, brother.”

“Natasha… Are you presuming to lecture me?”

Smack!

The sound of the slap echoed as Natasha’s face whipped to the side. A vivid red mark blossomed on her pale cheek.

The bloodied figure on the ground twitched, as though trying to move, but his battered body wouldn’t allow it.

“Are you defending this slave? Have you fallen for him?”

Sergei sneered, his rage evident as he raised his hand, ready to strike again.

“What nonsense are you speaking, brother? How could I… with a slave? I do not know him.”

Natasha said, clutching her stinging cheek and lowering her head in submission.

This was the first time she had ever been struck, and the humiliation stung as much as the pain. But more than her burning cheek, she was worried her impulsive words might escalate the situation further.

She should have endured it. Speaking out had only made things worse. Now she needed to fix the damage. Gathering herself, she continued.

“Truly, I do not know him. Why would I have any association with a slave? I only came because I heard a commotion. Please forgive my impertinence for intervening.”

“…You don’t know him?”

Sergei’s gleaming eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“If you don’t know him, then surely you wouldn’t care what happens to him.”

Sergei said, lifting Alexei’s face with his boot, pressing cruelly as he observed Natasha’s reaction.

Alexei, though visibly struggling, kept his gaze fixed on Natasha, even as Sergei crushed his face underfoot.

“Yes, he is nothing to me. Do as you wish, brother.”

Natasha said, her voice steady.

“But we should go; the tea will grow cold.”

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep her composure, Natasha glanced briefly at Alexei, then turned her head away. Her expression was cold and indifferent, as if she were looking at nothing more than a meaningless stone.

“Ha! Now you’re finally dropping that hypocritical pretense of yours.”

Sergei laughed, satisfied.

“Very well, then. No need to dirty my boots over this wretch any longer. Let’s have that tea.”

With a triumphant smile, Sergei extended his arm. Natasha, her cheek still bearing the red handprint, obediently linked arms with him and bowed her head.

Natasha had always believed that no person’s worth was determined by their status. She had tried to treat everyone with fairness and respect, regardless of their station. But Sergei always ridiculed her for it, calling her a “hypocrite.”

“You’re still the Ivanov princess, the highest of the high. All that kindness is just for show. You might act like you’re being generous, but deep down, you see them as beneath you. Stop pretending and live honestly, like me. It’s easier that way.”

Perhaps Sergei was right. Perhaps she was nothing more than a cowardly hypocrite, spouting empty ideals she couldn’t back with action.

If she couldn’t truly protect anyone, maybe it was better to pretend she hadn’t seen anything at all.

‘Don’t look back. You mustn’t look back.’

Natasha walked forward resolutely, her back straight and her steps unwavering. Yet she could feel the intensity of that fiery gaze burning into her from behind.

“I’ll remember that promise, milady.”

The memory of his sorrowful gaze resurfaced in her mind, but the eyes that had just stared at her seemed different now. No longer filled with sorrow, they were laced with contempt.

‘Hypocrite.’

The weight of his gaze seemed to whisper the word.

‘This is the only thing I can do for you.’

Even those words would never reach him. Still, being misunderstood and despised was preferable to watching him die because of her.

‘So please, even if you hate me… live on, no matter what.’

That was enough. She told herself it was fine—truly, it was fine.

* * *

“This tea truly lives up to its fragrance.”

Sergei remarked, gulping down the now-lukewarm tea. He casually squeezed Natasha’s arm as he spoke, his demeanor self-satisfied.

“Yes, that’s why I thought of you, brother. I couldn’t bear to drink it without you.”

Natasha replied, suppressing the urge to pull her arm away. For today, she couldn’t afford to upset him further.

“As expected, only you care for me. I was feeling rather offended, thinking you cared more about some wretched slave than your own brother,” Sergei teased, his tone smug.

“How could that be? I told you—I don’t know him.”

As Sergei’s hand began to wander, Natasha subtly slipped out of his reach, carefully avoiding an open confrontation. When his brows furrowed, she quickly placed a dessert plate in front of him.

“Try this! The honey-strawberry preserve looks so delicious.”

Sergei, distracted, ravenously devoured the dessert. Watching him, Natasha silently sighed in relief. The horrifying scene she had witnessed earlier still lingered in her mind, but she knew that showing any further concern for Alexei would only make things worse.

‘Do I still have enough salve left?’

It seemed impossible to secretly treat Alexei again, given Sergei’s increasingly watchful eye.

‘Is there a way I can at least get the salve to him?’

As she walked back to her chambers after tea, Natasha pondered over this dilemma.

Rita, knowing Natasha’s routine of reading after her time with Sergei, hurried to tidy up the desk near the window. But instead of heading to her desk, Natasha moved toward her vanity.

Rita, unable to hold her tongue any longer, began to chatter.

“Remember that laundry maid I mentioned? The one my age I got along with for a while? Well, she’s been so busy lately because she’s got a boyfriend now! She rushes off to see him every chance she gets. Honestly, it’s annoying.”

Natasha’s hand, which had been fiddling with a small jar of salve in her vanity drawer, froze.

“A… boyfriend?”

“Yes! His name’s Alexei. You wouldn’t know him, milady—oh, wait! You do! He’s that slave who came to see you in the garden before.”

“I see…”

‘So, he has someone.’

Natasha felt a sense of relief knowing someone cared for him. Still, a faint ache lingered in her chest. She brushed it off as nothing more than concern for his well-being.

“Whenever I give her something nice, she takes it straight to him instead of keeping it for herself. Men, honestly.”

Rita grumbled, pouting.

“Ah…”
Natasha’s hand, which had momentarily stilled, began moving again with renewed determination.

“What’s all this?”

Rita’s eyes widened as Natasha began pulling out several small jars from her vanity.

“These are aromatic salves with excellent healing properties. I’ve received so many as gifts over time. Do you need any? Feel free to share them with others as wel.,”

Natasha said, her tone light.

“Wow! These are such precious things—thank you, milady!”

Rita eagerly reached out and began gathering the jars. As Natasha watched her hurriedly collect them, she added one more thing.

“Don’t hesitate to ask for more if you need them. Make sure to share them generously with anyone who might benefit, alright?”