Ivan sat in his chamber, still and lifeless, like a shadow of a man. The pale light of dawn slipped through the curtains, but he had not slept all night. His body was heavy, yet his mind would not rest. He sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring into the emptiness before him. His eyes were glassy, distant, as though he was no longer part of this world.
The silence in the room was so thick that even the faint ticking of the clock on the wall seed loud. He drew in a long breath and let it out slowly, as if each breath cost him strength. His thoughts circled in endless loops — his sins, his regrets, Lydia’s cold eyes, her pain. He hated himself. He hated the sound of his own heartbeat.
A knock ca at the door. It was firm but not harsh. "Your highness?" Boris’s voice echoed softly through the wood.
Ivan did not move.
The door opened slightly, and Boris stepped in, his face lined with worry. "Your highness," he said again, more gently this ti. "Are you well? You did not leave your room yesterday. Katherine said you did not eat all day."
Ivan gave no answer. He remained as still as stone. His eyes did not shift.
Boris sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I am leaving for the capital today. I ca to say goodbye." He waited for a response, but Ivan was silent, as though the words had been spoken to a corpse.
Boris took a step back, disappointnt flashing in his eyes. "Very well," he said quietly. He turned to leave, his hand on the door. But sothing inside him stopped him. He froze for a mont, then turned around with sudden force in his voice.
"No," he said. "Forget it. I am not going back to the capital. I will not leave Svetlana. Not like this. Not while you destroy yourself like this." His voice trembled with a mix of anger and grief. "I don’t understand why you punish yourself so much. Why you carry this burden like you are so criminal waiting for execution."
Ivan blinked once but said nothing.
Boris stepped closer, his eyes sharp now. "Yes, I know. You hurt her. You hurt Lydia. But what are you doing now? You are killing yourself from the inside. You are making yourself weaker with every day you sit like this."
Still nothing. The silence was unbearable.
Finally, in a low and broken voice, Ivan whispered, "I deserve to suffer."
The words cut the air like a blade. Boris’s chest tightened. He shook his head, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "No... no, you don’t. Ivan, listen to . You don’t."
Before he could say more, another knock ca at the door. This ti it was Katherine. Her voice was careful, almost a whisper. "Your highness," she said gently. "Her highness wishes to speak with you. In your study."
The mont Ivan heard her na, his lips moved without thought. "Lydia..." he whispered under his breath.
He stood up suddenly, almost stumbling, and walked straight to the study without another word.
Katherine turned to leave, but Boris stopped her. He caught her arm, his eyes desperate. "I don’t understand," he said. "What could he have possibly done to her? What is it that makes him hate himself so much?"
Katherine’s lips trembled. She lowered her gaze. Her silence was the only answer she could give.
---
When Ivan entered his study, he found Lydia standing behind his desk. She was calm, too calm, and that calmness felt colder than any storm. In her hand was a rolled parchnt.
Ivan’s heart tightened just at the sight of her. Even when she looked at him like he was nothing, her presence was enough to ease his tornt for a mont. But then his eyes fell on the parchnt, and fear returned.
Lydia spoke at last, her voice clear and sharp. "I need your signature and your seal on this." She held the parchnt out to him.
Ivan’s fingers trembled slightly as he took it. He unrolled it and read. Relief washed over him as his eyes moved through the words. He exhaled slowly.
Lydia scoffed. "What did you think it was? Divorce papers?" Her voice was bitter, cutting him like a knife.
Ivan stayed silent.
She folded her arms, watching him with piercing eyes. "Well, sign it then."
He looked at her, his voice low. "Are you sure about this?"
"Yes," she answered quickly, without hesitation.
He hesitated. "You know this will cause problems."
Her face hardened. "Since when were my problems your concern? Either sign it, or give it back to ."
Ivan swallowed hard. He dipped the pen in ink, his hand steady but heavy, and signed his na. He handed the pen to her. She signed too, her strokes quick and sharp. Ivan then brought out his seal and stamped it.
The mont the seal touched the paper, Lydia snatched it from his hands. She rolled it tightly and said, "The decree will also apply to those who have been divorced within the last twenty years. And it applies to us as well. If you ever try to divorce , you will lose half of all you own."
Ivan lowered his eyes. His voice was so soft it almost broke. "I know."
He sounded as if he did not care if she took everything he had. He would give her all if it ant she stayed.
Without another word, Lydia turned and left. Her steps were sharp, her head high. To her, it was a cold exit. To him, it was warmth. Even her anger was warmth compared to the emptiness when she was not near.
He followed behind, keeping his distance. Quietly, he watched her as Katherine ca down the stairs, announcing, "Your carriage is ready, your highness."
Ivan stopped, his eyes fixed on Lydia. He watched her disappear outside the palace, Katherine by her side.
---
Inside the carriage, Lydia clutched the parchnt tightly against her chest. Her jaw was clenched, her thoughts racing. "What an idiot," she muttered under her breath. "He did not even protest."
Katherine, sitting beside her, noticed the way her hands trembled around the parchnt. "Your highness," she said softly, "let hold it for you."
Lydia hesitated, then handed it over with a nod.
---
The court was full of whispers when Lydia arrived. The decree had been read aloud, and the chaos it stirred was like a wave crashing through the crowd. n were in disbelief. Won held their breath.
Konstantin stood at the center, his face twisted in shock and anger. "This does not make sense," he shouted. "Your highness, this cannot be true."
Lydia’s voice was calm but strong. "What does not make sense? Did you not hear clearly? You divorced her. That ans you will give her half of everything you own. Then ten percent to . That leaves you with only forty percent. And rember, this does not include what her parents left you. Every coin, every estate they entrusted to you will return to her."
Gasps filled the room. Whispers grew louder.
Lydia turned her gaze to Anna, her lips curling in a small, satisfied smile. "Congratulations on being rich," she said, her voice cold but steady.
Konstantin’s face burned with humiliation.
Lydia did not care. She turned, her gown sweeping behind her as she left the court. The place was still shaking with noise and confusion.
---
Outside the church, Lydia stood waiting as Katherine hurried to fetch the carriage. The air was heavy, and suddenly a drop of rain touched her hair. Then another. She lifted her face to the sky and saw dark clouds gathering.
The rain began to fall without warning, quick and heavy. In monts her hair and dress were soaked, but she did not move. She stood still, her body trembling.
The rain blurred her vision, but not as much as the mory that rose sharply in her heart. That day. That horrible day. The day she lost her son.
Her knees weakened. Tears burst from her eyes, blending with the rain. She began to sob, the sound raw and painful. It was as though the storm outside had opened the storm inside her.
Katherine ca running, her own dress wet, panic on her face. "Your highness, why are you standing here in the rain?" she asked urgently. But Lydia did not hear her. She was lost in her mory, lost in the pain only she could see.
Her sobs grew louder. Her shoulders shook. Katherine stepped closer, her heart breaking at the sight. "Your highness," she whispered, "please..."
But Lydia only cried harder. The sky wept with her, the rain falling faster, and for that mont the world seed to grieve with the grand duchess.
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