Chapter 107: Chapter 107

Lydia was still on her bed trying to force herself to sleep. But sleep was far away. No matter how tightly she shut her eyes, it didn’t come. She laid there staring at the ceiling. Her hands clutched the blanket, but nothing could make the emptiness inside her go away.

The silence in the room was heavy. Even the ticking clock on the far wall sounded louder than usual, echoing in her ears. Each second felt longer than the last. Her pillow was damp from the tears she had cried earlier, and her throat ached from trying not to sob too loudly. She didn’t want anyone to hear her falling apart again.

Her eyes burned from the lack of sleep. Her body was tired, but her mind wouldn’t stop thinking. Her thoughts kept returning to Ivan. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he cold? Did he eat? The worry was too much. She kept thinking about his eyes before he left. They looked so hurt, so distant. It broke her heart.

And she hated that look. Hated that she hadn’t stopped him. Hated that she’d just stood there, watching him go, like her feet were stuck to the floor. Her chest tightened as she remembered the way his hands trembled as he left because of Olga’s presence, almost like he had wanted to turn back—but he didn’t.

It wasn’t just the ache of missing him. It was deeper. It was the fear. The way he looked at her before leaving, like he was saying goodbye without saying it. Like he was carrying something too heavy alone. Lydia had lived through so many hard things, but this was different. This silence, this waiting, this loneliness—it was the worst of all.

She rolled to her side and hugged the pillow tightly. It still smelled like him. Just a little. Just enough to hurt. Her chest rose and fell with short breaths as she blinked back tears.

Everything in the room reminded her of him. The book on the table they’d been reading together. The scarf he had tossed over the chair. Even the cold cup of tea she had made for him earlier, hoping he would come home in time to drink it. All of it felt frozen in time, waiting for him.

Eventually, her eyes started closing slowly. Her body was getting weaker. But she fought it. She didn’t want to sleep until she saw him again. Not until she knew he was back.

Meanwhile, outside, Ivan had finally reached the palace. The cold wind blew strongly, and the snow crunched under his boots. The whole palace was asleep. It was quiet and still. He left his horse by the royal stables and walked toward the entrance. The halls inside were dark, only lit by a few lanterns. The warmth of the palace didn’t reach his heart. He was tired. His body ached. But still, he walked forward.

His shoulders were hunched from the cold, but it wasn’t just that. It was the weight he carried inside. His mind was still full of the words spoken that day, the faces, the bitter truths. He felt like he had walked through a storm, and now that it was over, he didn’t even know where to put all the pieces.

Each step echoed softly. He had never felt so distant from the place he called home. His boots were soaked, his gloves stiff with ice. But it wasn’t the cold that made him feel frozen—it was the weight inside his chest.

He was almost at the stairs when a voice called out to him.

He stopped and turned. It was Vladimir. He looked pale, like he hadn’t slept either. His eyes were tired, and his face was troubled.

"Ivan, please," Vladimir said. "Can we talk?"

Ivan looked away and answered coldly, "I thought I made myself clear."

His voice was flat, but inside, his heart was already pounding.

"I know," Vladimir said quickly, "but... even if it’s just for a moment."

Ivan let out a tired sigh. "My apologies, but I’m too tired to listen to whatever you have to say. And it’s not like we have anything to talk about."

He turned to walk away, but then he heard Vladimir’s voice again, quieter this time.

"I’m sorry. For everything."

Ivan froze. The words hit something deep in him. He clenched his jaw and kept walking.

"Liar," he muttered under his breath.

Vladimir stayed where he was, eyes full of pain.

"I’m really sorry," he whispered to himself.

Ivan shook his head as he walked. He wanted to brush it off. To not care. But something inside him had already heard the regret in Vladimir’s voice. Still, it was too late. Too much had happened.

He walked down the hallway, heading straight for Lydia’s chambers. The only person he wanted to see right now was her.

He finally reached the door. Quietly, he opened it. The room was dim, lit by a single lamp. He stepped inside.

Lydia was on the bed, turned to the side. She had dozed off. Her body was curled up, the blanket half off her.

Ivan walked to the bed and gently fixed the blanket, tucking it around her. As he did, she stirred. Her eyes opened slowly.

"Ivan?" she said softly, still half asleep.

"Sorry," he whispered, "I didn’t mean to wake you."

Then she realized he was really there. Not a dream. She sat up quickly and threw herself into his arms.

"You’re okay," she said, her voice shaking. "I was so worried."

Her fingers gripped his coat like she was afraid he’d vanish again. She pressed her face into his neck, breathing him in.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I’m sorry I made you worry."

She pulled away a little, looking at his face. "You haven’t eaten anything, have you? I’ll get you something."

She moved like she was about to rise, but her hands trembled.

He stopped her gently and pulled her into another hug. He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"It’s okay," he said. "I’ve already eaten."

She looked at him, confused. "You have?"

He nodded. "Yes. I met someone. An old woman. She said she knew my mother. She gave me food and kept me warm. It reminded me of home. Of my mother."

Lydia didn’t say anything. She just held him tighter. Her heart was full, hearing he had been safe and cared for.

She imagined that old woman, perhaps with kind eyes and warm hands, feeding him soup by a small fire. That image alone was enough to make Lydia’s tears well up again. Someone had looked after him when she couldn’t. And for that, she was silently grateful.

He pulled back and smiled a little. "I’m very tired. Let’s sleep. You look tired too."

She nodded, and they both laid down. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She pressed her head to his chest.

But neither of them could sleep.

Lydia was still scared. Even now, in his arms, she felt afraid. What if this was just a dream? What if he disappeared again?

She clung tightly to his shirt, her fingers gripping it hard. Tears started falling again. She couldn’t stop them.

Ivan felt the wetness on his chest. He sat up slowly and looked at her.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned.

She sat up too and wiped her eyes quickly. "It’s nothing," she lied.

He reached out and gently cupped her face. "It’s not nothing. Talk to me. Please."

She looked at him, her eyes full of pain. "I thought you would leave me. I thought you were gone forever. Even now, when you’re here, I still feel that way. I’m scared, Ivan. I don’t think I can live without you."

Her voice cracked. She hated sounding so weak, but it was the truth. Her heart had been holding it in for too long.

Ivan didn’t speak right away. He leaned forward and kissed her lips softly. Then he pulled her into his arms and whispered against her hair,

"Why would I leave you? I told you before. I love you. More than anything in this world. I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry I made you feel this way. I’ll never leave you. Never."

Lydia held him tighter. Her tears kept falling, but now they were mixed with relief.

He kissed her forehead gently. "Now let’s go to bed, Lydia. We still have the ball coming up, and there’s so much to do. Once it’s over, everything will be fine."

She nodded. But deep inside, she knew there was one more thing. One truth she hadn’t told him. A truth that could change everything.

She wanted to tell him now. But looking at him, she knew he had already been through too much today. His heart needed rest.

So she decided. She would tell him everything on the day of the ball.

She laid her head back on his chest, holding him close.

He whispered again, "Don’t worry. After the ball, everything will be okay."

And with that promise, both of them finally closed their eyes.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, forgetting the pain and the guilt, if only for a little while.