Boris sat quietly in the lounge of one of the long palace hallways. The tall windows let in a bright afternoon light. He leaned back against the chair, his arms folded across his chest, but his face showed anger and disappointment. His brows were furrowed, and his lips kept moving as he muttered to himself.
"How could he do that to her," he said under his breath. "He’s unbelievable. I don’t understand him at all."
He rubbed his forehead as if the thought of it gave him pain. For original chapters go to novᴇlfire.net
Katherine came walking through the hallway at that moment. She had just finished inspecting the preparations for lunch. The servants had been setting tables and arranging flowers, and she was on her way to her own chambers when she caught sight of Boris. His face looked troubled, his whole body tense.
She stopped, tilting her head slightly. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.
Boris looked up at her and forced a small smile. "I am," he replied. "It’s just... I’m thinking."
"About His Highness?" Katherine asked gently, already guessing the answer.
"Yes," Boris said. His voice was tight. He exhaled heavily and shook his head. "I still can’t believe he did that. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I’ve known him for sixteen years now. Sixteen. And still, I can’t believe he could do such a thing." His fists clenched on his knees. "I know he can be cold. I know he can be distant. And yes, sometimes he’s paranoid. But abandoning your own child like that? Abandoning Lydia?" His voice trembled with anger. "I don’t understand. How could he?"
Katherine lowered her eyes, her heart heavy. "I too don’t believe it," she said quietly. "Why would he do that to her? To the baby?"
Boris looked at her sharply. "Then what are we missing? There must be something."
Katherine frowned, her voice soft but firm. "Do you know what I find even more confusing, Boris?"
He raised his brows. "What?"
"His silence," Katherine said. "Exactly that. The way he behaves lately. It’s off."
Boris nodded slowly. "I too find it strange. It feels like he is not just guilty. It feels like he is punishing himself."
Katherine looked at him with sad eyes. "He is sad," she said. Her voice dropped lower, almost to a whisper. "From the looks of it, it feels like he is in so much pain. Sometimes... it looks like he is suffering more than she is. And I don’t understand it. If he truly abandoned her and her child, why? Why would he be the one in pain?"
Boris leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "I don’t understand either. But I feel it too. I feel like he is not telling us something."
The hallway went silent. Both of them sat with their thoughts, both disturbed by the same feeling.
Meanwhile, in Tatiana’s room, her hands were trembling as she lifted the lid of the box she had taken from her closet. Her heart raced, her breaths quick and shallow.
Inside were letters. Dozens of them.
They were Lydia’s letters. Letters she had written to Ivan. Most of them were unopened. Some still sealed, the wax unbroken. Tatiana ran her fingers over them, her lips curling into a strange, twisted smile.
She lifted one of the letters and stared at Lydia’s handwriting. Her eyes filled with a dangerous light.
"He will never understand," she whispered. Her voice was shaky but full of passion. "He’ll never understand I did this for him. For us."
Her fingers pressed tightly against the paper, almost crumpling it.
"I did this for you," she said louder, as if Ivan were in the room listening. "You don’t have to worry. Both of us will be together. I’ll do anything for you. Anything." Her voice broke, and her eyes shone with tears. "You were mine. You were always mine. She... she’s the one who got in the way."
Tatiana pressed the letters to her chest, rocking slightly, lost in her obsession.
In his chambers, Ivan sat alone. The air around him was cold and heavy. His table was cluttered with papers and half-burnt candles, but his eyes were fixed on one thing.
In his hands, he held an old letter. The paper was worn from being opened and folded many times. His fingers traced the lines, and his eyes blurred as tears gathered.
It was Lydia’s letter. The one that came after his own cruel words.
He swallowed hard and began to read it again, though every word tore at him.
"You said you want nothing to do with me," the letter began. "That you don’t believe you are the father of our baby. Do you really mean it? It’s not true, right? You are just angry, that’s why. You know I would never betray you. Please don’t do this."
Ivan’s throat tightened. His vision blurred as he read on.
"I know you hate me. I know you don’t trust me. But still... can’t you forgive me? Please, don’t leave me. Don’t leave our son. I have given birth, and it’s a boy. Ivan, I’m scared. I don’t know what to do without you."
His hand shook so hard he almost dropped the paper. His tears fell onto the ink, smudging it.
"Please, I’m waiting for you. Our son is too. I won’t give him a name yet. Not without you. Please, Ivan. Come to me. I’ll be waiting by the small cottage in Mirograd, just by the well in the town center."
Ivan pressed the letter to his forehead, his shoulders shaking. "If only... if only I didn’t leave you," he whispered brokenly. "None of this would have happened. None of this."
He sobbed openly, his body trembling as guilt swallowed him whole.
Back in Lydia’s room, she was still seated by her vanity. The chest with the letter she had forced herself to put away was closed, but her heart felt as though it was still open and bleeding. Her face was calm, but her eyes were heavy with sadness.
The door creaked softly, and Xenia entered again. She bowed quickly.
"Your Highness," she said carefully, "there’s someone here to see you."
Lydia turned her head slowly, her brows furrowing. "Someone?"
"Yes," Xenia said. "They said... it is very important."
Lydia’s lips parted slightly. Her heart skipped, a mix of dread and hope rising inside her. She sat still for a moment, her hands clutching her gown, before she whispered, "Who is it?"