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Lydia stood in Ivan’s study. Her voice suddenly disappeared. Her throat was dry. She couldn’t speak. Her legs trembled under her, and she barely managed to stay on her feet.

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides, as if her body was trying to hold onto sothing—anything—that would stop it from breaking apart. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. She had imagined this mont many tis, feared it more than death. But now that it was here, it didn’t feel like fear. It felt like drowning.

Her heart pounded so loudly she could hear it in her ears. Her skin felt cold, almost numb, and yet her back was damp with sweat. The silence stretched between them like a wall made of glass—thin, fragile, ready to shatter.

"Ivan..." she said, almost in a whisper. "I’m sorry... I—"

Ivan’s voice was cold. "You’re sorry? Sorry for what? This is your handwriting, is it not?"

His hand trembled slightly as he held up the paper, though his face stayed stiff, frozen like stone. He had read it over and over, hoping—praying—it was a lie, or a trick, or soone else’s words. But it wasn’t.

Lydia looked at the piece of paper he held. It was the page she had ripped from her diary a long ti ago. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her lips trembled. Her heart sank.

She rembered when she had written those words—how terrified she was, how trapped she felt. She never thought anyone would read them. Especially not him.

She could still feel the weight of the quill in her hand that night. The way her tears smudged the ink. The cold candlelight. The loneliness.

Ivan continued, his voice sharp and bitter. "How could you do this to , Lydia? I told you everything. Everything! How she treated , how she ruined my life. And all this ti, you were working for her? You must have thought I was a fool, didn’t you? Didn’t you, Lydia?!"

He yelled the last words, and Lydia flinched. She shook her head quickly.

"No, I didn’t! Ivan, please, let explain!"

"Explain what?!" he shouted again. "How you made a deal with the one person who destroyed everything for ? How you spied on ? How you made a fool of ?!"

Each word hit her like a slap across the face. She couldn’t breathe. Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing ca out.

Her knees buckled slightly. Her body was screaming from the inside. Her lungs begged for air, but her grief made it impossible to breathe properly.

Lydia couldn’t say anything. She just kept crying. Her whole body shook with every breath.

Ivan’s voice dropped but stayed cold. "I always thought it was strange. Why were you so kind to from the very first day? Now I understand. Everything about you was a lie. Every word. Every smile. Everything."

His eyes no longer held warmth or hope. Only shadows. Lydia felt sothing inside her break. Sothing that might never heal.

Lydia ran to him and clung to him, wrapping her arms around him. "It’s not true, Ivan! I didn’t lie. I swear, I didn’t."

Her arms tightened around his waist. She buried her face in his chest like she used to when she was scared. But he didn’t hold her. He didn’t even move.

She could feel his body stiff and cold beneath her hands. He was standing still, like a statue.

Ivan scoffed bitterly. "Then what is this? You wrote it yourself."

Lydia sobbed. "I did... but it’s not what it seems. I didn’t have a choice. But Ivan, I never told her anything. Please believe . I would never betray you."

She was pleading now. Desperate. Her voice cracked between the words, like her heart was breaking in real ti.

Ivan stepped back. "Do you really expect to believe that? Then maybe you are a bigger fool than I am."

He walked past her and left the study.

Lydia stood there, frozen. Her heart had shattered. Her whole world felt like it had fallen apart. Her legs gave out, and she fell to the floor.

A sharp cry escaped her lips as her knees hit the hard ground. Her hands reached for the spot where he had just stood, as if she could still feel him there. But he was gone.

Gone.

His eyes had changed. They weren’t angry—they were empty. Cold. Worse than how he used to be before. There was no love in them anymore. Only pain. Only rage.

She always feared he would hate her if he found out. Now, she was living that nightmare.

She whispered to herself, "Maybe if I explain better... maybe he’ll understand."

Her voice was barely audible. It sounded like a ghost’s voice—lost and broken. But she still hoped. Just a little.

She stood up and left the study, wiping her tears. She spotted him outside. She called his na, over and over again, but he didn’t stop. He walked faster.

Her voice cracked. "Ivan! Ivan, please!" But he didn’t turn around.

She ran. She ran after him. He was already on his horse, getting ready to ride away. She ran in front of him and blocked his way.

"Ivan, please. Just listen to !"

He paused. His eyes t hers. But they were lifeless. Lydia’s chest ached just looking into them.

"I didn’t have a choice," she said. "My uncle was going to sell off to that old Count. I was scared, so I agreed to her deal. But Ivan, I have never fulfilled it. Not once. Because I love you. Please believe ."

Her hands were clasped together now, shaking. Her eyes were red and swollen. Her voice was raw. But he didn’t move.

He said nothing.

"Please, Ivan," she begged.

Still, he said nothing. He just looked away, clicked his tongue, and rode off.

She tried to run after him again, but she fell to the ground, scraping her palm badly. Blood sared across her skin, but she didn’t even feel it.

She stood up and started to head to the stables. She wanted to ride after him. But Tatiana appeared and blocked her path.

"That’s not a good idea," Tatiana said. "He’s just angry right now. Don’t follow him. Once he cools down, I’m sure he’ll co back."

Tatiana hugged her tightly.

Lydia broke down in her arms, crying harder than before. "I’m scared, Tatiana. I’m scared he’ll leave . I don’t think I can live without him. I love him so much."

Her voice was hoarse now, the words slurring together from the sobs.

"It’s okay, Your Highness," Tatiana said gently. She looked at Lydia’s hand and added, "Co on. Let’s treat that wound."

She helped Lydia back into the palace. Lydia kept looking behind her, hoping Ivan would turn around. But he didn’t.

In Lydia’s room, Tatiana gently cleaned and wrapped her palm.

But Lydia couldn’t stop crying. Not from the pain in her hand, but from the pain in her heart.

"Tatiana," she whispered, "what if he never cos back?"

Tatiana smiled softly. "He will. He’s angry, but he loves you. He loves you more than anything."

She paused, then asked, "Why did you agree to her deal?"

Lydia sobbed, "I didn’t have a choice. But I never did anything she asked. I swear it."

"You should have told him earlier."

"I wanted to. But I was too scared. Too scared of losing him."

Tatiana patted her shoulder gently. "Don’t worry. He’ll co back. He just needs ti. He’ll be back by evening, I’m sure. And when he does, he’ll listen."

Tatiana left the room.

Lydia sat by the window all evening, waiting.

He didn’t co back.

The next morning passed. And the next night.

Still, he didn’t return.

By the third day, Lydia had stopped crying. She had no more tears left. Her eyes were dry, but her heart was heavy. Everything felt cold and dark.

She no longer touched her food. The walls felt closer. The silence hurt her ears. Every sound of hooves outside made her run to the window—only to feel the pain again.

Then, just as the sun began to set, she heard the sound of hooves outside her window. She looked out and saw Ivan entering through the gates.

She didn’t wait.

She jumped up, barefoot, and ran down the halls. She ran like a madwoman. She didn’t care who saw her. She didn’t care about anything except getting to him.

She threw open the doors to his study and ran to him. Without thinking, she hugged him tightly, pressing her face against his chest.

"I’m really sorry, Ivan. I’m really sorry," she cried. "I love you. Please don’t leave ."

He said nothing. He didn’t hug her back. He simply removed her arms from around him.

Then, he handed her a parchnt.

Lydia opened it slowly. Her hands were shaking.

It was a docunt to annul their marriage.

"Sign it!" Ivan said coldly.

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