CHAPTER 112: THE EMBER LIGHTS BALL PT2

Ivan took Lydia’s hands, helping her from the stairs.

She smiled softly at him. Her heart fluttered. The moment felt surreal—like she had stepped into a story she used to dream of as a child. The lights, the music, the crowd—none of it mattered. Right now, it was just him.

He smiled back and said to her, "You look beautiful."

She giggled quietly, her cheeks flushing a little. She felt like her chest had been filled with warm air. All eyes were on them. Everyone in the ballroom looked at them in awe, as if they were the sun and moon standing side by side.

The ball officially started.

Ivan and Lydia were the center of attention. As the hosts, they had to greet and welcome guests from all parts of the kingdom. Noblemen and noblewomen bowed, curtsied, and smiled politely. Some seemed nervous. Some seemed too curious.

Lydia kept her smile in place, but inside she was overwhelmed. Her palms were a little damp. Her gown felt heavier than it had minutes ago. Her heart pounded against her ribs, even though she knew she had nothing to be afraid of. But it was hard not to feel judged, even admired, when every gaze lingered too long.

Among the guests were Lydia’s cousins and, of course, her uncle Alexander, who looked like he didn’t want to be there. His face held no excitement, only stress. Lydia’s face, on the other hand, lit up when she saw her cousins. Her whole expression changed—her shoulders relaxed, her steps quickened. She ran to them and hugged them tightly.

"We missed you," Mikhail said, holding her back.

"Me too," Lydia replied, still smiling. Her voice cracked with emotion. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held on to him.

"You look beautiful," Anya said, brushing a strand of Lydia’s hair behind her ear.

"Thank you," Lydia said, her eyes soft.

Pyotr, the youngest, reached out and held Ivan’s coat. "Your Highness, I made this for you."

He handed Ivan a tiny wooden ship. It was carved roughly, but carefully. The edges were uneven, but the thought behind it shone brightly.

Ivan smiled gently, even though he looked busy. His eyes softened.

"Thank you," he said kindly. Then he looked around and called out, "Leonid!"

Leonid appeared from behind a group of guests.

"Could you play with Pyotr for a while? He made this ship."

"Of course," Leonid said, smiling. "Do you like the sea?" he asked Pyotr.

"Yes!" Pyotr replied excitedly. "Do you have maps?"

"I have many," Leonid said. "Come with me."

Ivan smiled as the two boys walked off, chatting like they were old friends. Lydia watched them too, her heart warm. For a brief moment, everything felt safe. Soft. Almost like home.

Alexander stepped closer. His mouth opened slightly, then closed again. His eyes darted around. The weight of his secret sat heavy on him. Ruslan had visited him. He had threatened him. He had warned him. If he didn’t play along, he would expose everything. The alliance. The letters. The hidden truths.

He wanted to ask Lydia if she was okay. He wanted to pull her aside and tell her to leave the palace. But his lips wouldn’t move. His courage failed him like it had for years. Fear silenced him again.

He finally opened his mouth, ready to speak.

"Lydia, I need to talk t—"

But Lydia had already turned and walked away. She had seen someone else.

"Godmother!" she cried and ran to Irina.

Elena noticed her father’s disappointed face.

"You should tell her," she said.

"Tell her what?" Alexander asked.

But Elena just smiled faintly and walked off saying, "I need a drink."

Lydia hugged Irina tightly. The hug lingered longer than expected. Lydia buried her face in Irina’s shoulder, the familiar scent of her godmother’s lavender perfume wrapping around her like a blanket from childhood.

"I didn’t think you’d come," Lydia said, her voice full of love.

"I still hate balls," Irina said honestly. "But my precious goddaughter is holding one, so I wouldn’t miss it for the world."

Lydia laughed. "You look lovely."

Irina smiled, then looked closer at Lydia. Her eyes softened.

"Have you told him?"

Lydia looked down and shook her head. "No. I’ll tell him tonight."

Her voice wavered. She touched her stomach unconsciously, then dropped her hand quickly before anyone could notice.

Irina nodded slowly. "I hope things work out for the better."

A loud voice rang through the ballroom. It was the royal announcer.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to mark this grand occasion, a special performance to honor our kingdom’s 200th anniversary."

Everyone fell quiet.

A choir began to sing. The song was slow, emotional, and strong. It told the story of Zolotaria. Two hundred years of battles, peace, love, blood, strength. Lydia listened with her heart. Her fingers curled around Ivan’s as he held her hand gently. The voices rose in harmony, echoing through the ballroom like waves.

When the song ended, everyone clapped politely. Some looked moved. Others whispered quietly.

Then came the sword dance.

A group of royal guards stepped into the center. They were dressed in dark blue uniforms with gold buttons. Each held shining swords.

The music started, sharp and fast. The guards moved like one body. Their swords clashed together in rhythm. Spinning. Jumping. Moving with perfect precision.

Everyone watched in awe.

Lydia’s eyes followed the blades. Something in her chest ached. The way they moved reminded her of her father. He used to return from his trips with swords. He always brought one for her to see. Once, she played with one despite his warnings. She broke a vase. Cut the couch. Her grandmother had screamed for hours.

Her eyes grew glassy.

Ivan noticed.

He leaned in, speaking softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said quickly. Then paused. "I just remembered my father."

She smiled faintly. "He always brought swords from his travels. I played with one and broke my grandmother’s favorite vase."

Ivan chuckled. "So you’ve always been a little stubborn?"

"Oh, I was very naughty," she laughed. "Once, I glued my piano tutor to a chair."

He burst into soft laughter.

Everyone around noticed them laughing and whispering like two children sharing secrets. People whispered and pointed. It was sweet. It was unexpected. It was real.

Tatiana watched from the far end of the hall. A soft smile on her lips.

Hidden in the crowd, Ruslan stood too. His eyes cold.

"By midnight," he whispered. "My plan will take action."

On the other side, Olga watched with pure disgust. Her jaw tightened.

She whispered something to the announcer, who nodded and walked to the stage.

"To commemorate this night," he said loudly, "the hosts of the evening will open the dance."

People looked around confused.

Olga stepped forward and smiled like nothing was wrong.

"It is tradition, no need to look so surprised," she said sweetly. "Let us applaud the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess."

Vladimir stepped beside her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Oh stop being dramatic," Olga said. "It’s just a dance."

Ivan didn’t say anything.

Lydia looked at him with worry. "Do you want to?"

"Let’s do it," he said.

The music started. Soft. Elegant.

They began to dance.

To everyone’s shock, they danced beautifully. Their movements were smooth, calm, and perfect. They twirled across the floor like they had danced together all their lives.

Lydia leaned in and whispered, "I didn’t know you could dance."

"I couldn’t," Ivan whispered back. "Tatiana taught me when we were teenagers."

Lydia turned to look at Tatiana. She was smiling at them.

Lydia mouthed, "Thank you."

Tatiana bowed her head gently.

Olga saw it. Her face turned pale. "That crazy woman," she muttered under her breath.

Tatiana laughed softly and turned to a gentleman beside her. "Care to dance?"

Soon others joined. Elena and Anya stepped into the floor too. Then more and more people. The ballroom was now alive with music and spinning gowns.

Still, in the middle of it all, Ivan and Lydia continued dancing. Their hands never parted. Their eyes only on each other.

From a distance, Vladimir watched with his guards, Nikolai and Boris.

"Your idea was right," he said to Nikolai. "Maybe now they will stop seeing him as a monster."

Lydia suddenly felt it. Like a sharp pinch in her chest.

A chill. Like someone was watching her.

Her eyes scanned the room. And then she saw him.

Ruslan.

Standing in the crowd.

Watching her.

He saw her too.

And he smiled, just a little.

He knew she saw him.

Her heart stopped. She tried to keep dancing, but her mind was spinning. Her hand tightened in Ivan’s.

She looked at him. He was still smiling, unaware.

But she knew.

Midnight was coming.

And so was danger.