Say It

In the living room, Polena stood by the window with her back to the door, gazing at the snow-white courtyard.

The morning light outlined her slender figure. Her light golden hair was loosely tied behind her head, with a few wisps falling beside her neck. The cuffs and collar of her dark blue winter dress were trimmed with white fur. It was plain but elegant. She turned her head slightly, her eyelashes casting fine shadows in the morning light, the tip of her nose faintly pink from the winter cold.

She stood motionless, as if she had become one with the stillness of winter.

Pavel's heart suddenly clenched, as though he were looking at a stranger rather than the little girl who had pestered everyone to pose for her paintings since they were children.

Hearing footsteps, Polena turned around.

At that moment, Pavel saw worry in her eyes.

Polena's eyes were sky blue, like the summer sky over Boiham City.

There was none of her usual calm in them now, only concern.

Polena hurried over and stopped two steps away from Pavel, studying his face carefully.

"You really are sick." Her voice was soft, yet utterly certain.

"I just didn't sleep well." Pavel tried to sound casual, but his voice was so hoarse that even he was surprised.

Polena didn't reply. She simply kept looking at him, her gaze moving from his eyes to his tightly closed lips, then to his fists, clenched without his realizing it.

Her gaze wasn't sharp, but it had a strange penetrating quality, as though it could see past every disguise and look straight at the soul crumbling inside him.

"I noticed at the banquet last night," she said. She went to the chair by the fireplace and sat down, as naturally as if she