Lydia sat on the chair before the vanity in the room where she was staying. Her hair was still damp from her bath, soft strands clinging to her shoulders. Outside the window, the sun was setting over the capital, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink. But none of that beauty touched her heart. Her chest felt heavy, and her hands, resting in her lap, trembled faintly.
Xenia stood behind her, brushing her hair with slow, careful strokes. But her hands shook so much that the brush snagged more than once. Lydia noticed it, and her reflection in the mirror caught Xenia’s pale face. She spoke softly, her voice gentle but steady. "What is it, Xenia?"
Xenia hesitated, her lips pressed together before she finally whispered. "It’s just that... I’m worried. I’m scared, Your Highness. Because of tomorrow."
Lydia let out a quiet sigh, though her own heart was no steadier than her maid’s. She forced calm into her tone, as if her words alone could ease Xenia’s fear. "I am too. But you don’t have to worry. Nothing will happen. His Majesty won’t dismiss ."
Xenia frowned, her voice trembling. "But the senate mbers are harsh. Especially to won. They ask questions not to know the truth but to tear you down. They throw words like stones, questions that no one can answer. They want to belittle you, to sha you."
Lydia’s chest tightened, though she kept her face composed. She knew Xenia spoke the truth. She had seen how n in power used their words like weapons. But she smiled faintly, even if it cost her strength. "I know that. Don’t worry, everything will be alright."
Lydia sighed softly and leaned in the chair as Xenia continued brushing her hair. "Xenia," Lydia said softly.
Xenia lowered her head. "Yes, Your Highness." Her hands paused in Lydia’s hair, as if she could not bear to let go.
Lydia turned slightly toward her. "Go and rest. You must be very tired from the travels."
"But.. Your highness," Xenia said stuttering.
Lydia turned to her saying softly, "Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine."
"But I haven’t brought your dinner yet," Xenia said softly, as though clinging to excuses to stay.
"Soone else will bring it," Lydia replied gently. "Go and rest, please."
Xenia hesitated, her lips pressed tight. At last, she whispered, "Goodnight, Your Highness."
"Goodnight," Lydia answered softly.
When the door closed behind her, the silence pressed down like a weight. The warm glow of sunset spilling through the window could not reach her. Lydia sighed deeply, her shoulders trembling. She pressed her hands against her chest and whispered to herself, "Get yourself together. Get yourself together."
Her voice cracked, and her eyes closed. She forced her breathing to steady, though fear still clawed inside her. She could not fall apart. Not now. Not ever.
---
In another part of the palace, Vladimir sat at his desk. His expression was grave, his fingers resting over papers though his eyes did not see them. Ivan stood before him, his stance stiff, his face dark with controlled anger.
"I have no plans of dismissing her," Vladimir said at last, his voice steady.
Ivan’s eyes narrowed. "Then why did you allow this trial? You could have ignored their petitions. You know how the senate mbers are. You just threw her to them as bait." His voice was sharp, nearly accusing.
Vladimir shook his head. "Not exactly."
"Then why?" Ivan pressed, his jaw tight.
Vladimir leaned back slightly, his words deliberate. "If I ignored them, they would not stop. They would spread rumors, twisting truth into lies, feeding the fire with exaggerations. Every whisper would grow louder. In the end, it would destroy her reputation without her ever standing before them. She must defend herself, or they will ruin her anyway."
Ivan’s hands curled into fists. "So you send her like a lamb to the slaughter?"
"All we can do is hope she defends herself well," Vladimir said, quieter this ti. His eyes softened briefly. "Do not fear. Even if she fails, I will not dismiss her. I will not."
Ivan searched his face, then gave a curt nod. "I understand." He turned to leave, his shoulders stiff, his body rigid with unspoken fury.
"Ivan," Vladimir called after him.
Ivan stopped, turning slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty?"
Vladimir opened his mouth, but no words ca. At last, he lowered his gaze and muttered, "It’s nothing."
Ivan studied him for a mont longer, then bowed his head and walked out.
When the door closed, Vladimir leaned back heavily, murmuring under his breath. "He doesn’t even speak to with hatred anymore. He didn’t even get upset I called him by his na. I really wonder what happened between them."
---
The next morning, the palace felt heavy, as though the very air held its breath. The sun had barely risen, yet the court was already filled. Seven senators sat in their seats, their robes rich, their faces cold and stern. Their eyes glead like sharpened steel as they prepared to use words as weapons.
The hall stretched wide, marble pillars shining under the pale light. Every step echoed sharply against the stone. Servants hurried to set things in order, their movents quiet, their faces pale. Candles flickered beside the sunlight, as though the hall needed more fire for what was about to co.
Vladimir sat elevated above the court. His crown weighed heavily, but his face was unreadable. His fingers pressed into the carved arms of his throne. To his right, Olga sat proudly, her chin high, her lips curved in the faintest smirk. Her eyes glowed with hunger, as though waiting for a spectacle. At the center, Ivan sat rigid, his face carved like stone. His heart, however, thundered painfully. Every muscle inside him scread at the injustice of Lydia being dragged here, yet all he could do was sit and watch.
At last, Lydia entered. She stepped into the center of the court, the long train of her gown whispering across the floor. Pale fabric caught the morning light, her figure glowing like a fla that refused to bend. Her head was high, her back straight, though her hands trembled faintly where no one could see. The whispers of the senators circled her like smoke, but she did not flinch. Her eyes were calm, even as her chest pounded.
The silence grew thick until Vladimir stood. His voice rang through the hall, royal and commanding, echoing against the stone walls. "Today, we gather to hold trial concerning the Grand Duchess, Her Royal Highness Lydia Andreyevna Romanova. The senate has brought forth petitions demanding she answer to accusations. By law and by duty, this trial shall now begin."
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