Chapter 175: Chapter 175

Lydia sat quietly in her room after her bath. The steam from the hot water still clung faintly to her skin. Her hair was damp, soft strands falling over her shoulders. The glow of her skin made her look almost peaceful, but her heart was not at peace at all. Inside her, everything felt heavy and torn.

Her maid stood behind her, brushing her hair slowly and carefully. It was the same girl she had shouted at the day she left Ivan’s chambers. Lydia could still remember the way the girl’s hands had shaken back then, how frightened she looked. Now the maid brushed with such gentleness, but her hands still carried that nervous air, as though she feared Lydia might snap again.

When she was finished, the maid put the brush quietly on the vanity table and bowed her head.

"Your Highness," she said softly, "everything with the renovation is completed. Starting tomorrow, your room will be ready."

Lydia gave a small nod. "I see."

The girl hesitated, then asked, "Do you want your lunch now or later?"

"Later," Lydia replied quietly.

The maid lowered her eyes. "Do you need anything else, Your Highness?"

Lydia shook her head. "No. You may leave."

The girl turned to go, but something in Lydia’s heart stopped her. "Wait," she said softly. Googlᴇ search novel·fıre·net

The maid turned back quickly, bowing again. "Yes, Your Highness?"

Lydia looked at her closely for a moment, her voice quiet and almost unsure. "What’s your name?"

The young girl looked surprised by the question. "Xenia," she said.

"And how old are you?" Lydia asked.

"Eighteen years," Xenia replied carefully. Then, with hesitation, she added, "Why do you ask, Your Highness?"

Lydia lowered her eyes and shook her head slightly. "It’s nothing. You may go."

Xenia turned again, but before she could leave, Lydia spoke once more, her voice trembling just a little. "I’m sorry."

The girl froze, almost shocked. She turned back with wide eyes. "Your Highness?"

Lydia sighed and looked down at her own hands. "For yelling at you the other day. I was angry, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry."

Xenia blinked rapidly, her lips parting as though she didn’t know what to say. Finally she whispered, "You don’t have to, Your Highness."

But Lydia looked at her firmly, though her voice was soft. "You don’t have to be nervous around me. Please... feel free."

Xenia bowed deeply, her eyes shining with relief. "Yes, Your Highness." Then she left the room quietly.

The moment she was gone, Lydia sighed deeply. The silence wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. Her eyes drifted to the large wooden box beside her vanity. For a long time she just stared at it, her chest rising and falling with unsteady breaths. Finally, as though something inside her pushed her, she stood and went to it.

She knelt down, opened the box, and from inside she pulled out a smaller chest. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid. Inside, neatly folded and kept, was a letter.

Her hands shook as she picked it up. It was that letter. The one Ivan had sent her back then. The one that broke her heart.

Slowly, she unfolded it, her eyes moving over the words she already knew by heart. Words that had burned themselves into her memory.

Her lips quivered. A part of her wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t written it himself. That maybe someone else had forged his hand. That maybe it was some cruel mistake. Her heart whispered to her, again and again, could he really have written this to me?

But her head screamed the truth back at her. The harsh words stared at her in black ink, cold and merciless. The paper itself seemed to cut her fingers. Every line reminded her of what he had said, of how he had doubted her, of how he had abandoned her when she needed him most.

Her tears fell onto the page. She pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to sob. "Don’t forget why you are here, Lydia," she whispered to herself. "Don’t forget." Her voice shook, but she kept speaking as if to anchor herself. "Don’t ever forget what he did to you. Don’t let your heart fool you again."

With trembling hands she folded the letter back, her chest tight with pain. She tossed it back into the small chest and shut it firmly. Then she pushed the chest into the larger box and closed it with force, as though trying to lock away not just the letter, but her feelings too.

Her hands lingered on the lid, shaking. She closed her eyes and whispered again, "Don’t forget."

In Tatiana’s room, the atmosphere was very different. She lay calmly in her bed, her hands over her stomach as though she were the picture of a gentle mother-to-be. Yelena, her maid, stood beside her bed with a small tray. She had just given her the medicine recommended by the physician.

"Drink this, my lady," Yelena said kindly.

Tatiana took the cup with a smile and swallowed it. She placed the empty cup back on the tray and sighed lightly. "You worry too much, Yelena."

Yelena shook her head quickly. "I’ll come back immediately after I put this away. I’ll bring your lunch too, so just stay here. Don’t stress yourself."

Tatiana laughed softly, though her laugh was hollow. "I’m not a baby, Yelena. I can take care of myself."

"I know," Yelena said firmly. "But you still have to be careful. Since you are with child, my lady, you must rest."

Tatiana smiled sweetly, her voice soft. "You’re right. Thank you, Yelena."

Satisfied, Yelena bowed and left the room, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

The moment they faded, Tatiana’s sweet smile disappeared. Her calm eyes sharpened, and her lips pressed tightly together. She sat up quickly, her breathing heavy. She looked toward her closet.

She rushed to it, her hands trembling as she opened the door. Inside, hidden on the top shelf, was a wooden box. Relief flooded her face as she pulled it down. She sighed, whispering to herself, "It’s still here."

She sat on the floor, her knees drawn close, the box on her lap. Her fingers shook as she reached to open it.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She knew what was inside. She knew what it meant. Yet she could not stop herself.

Slowly, carefully, she lifted the lid.