CHAPTER 114: THE DEVIL CRIES

Ivan stood frozen.

His hands were trembling as he held the note again, the same note from Ruslan. His eyes read the words over and over.

"Now you will feel what it’s like to lose everything, Prince Ivan."

The letters burned into his mind like fire. They screamed louder than any voice ever could.

It didn’t make any sense. Ruslan was dead. He was sure of it. He had killed him. He had watched him fall. They had buried him. It wasn’t possible.

No, it wasn’t just impossible—it was cruel. A nightmare dressed like reality. The kind that makes your stomach twist and your soul crawl. The kind that makes you question your own memory, your sanity.

His knees wobbled. His throat was so tight it hurt to breathe. His whole body felt like it had been thrown into a freezing river. Cold. Shocked. Numb.

He wanted to scream, but no sound came. There was something crawling through his chest, something sharp and sickening. A fear so deep it made his skin crawl. His mind raced, but it kept hitting the same wall—Ruslan was dead. He was dead.

He had felt the warmth leave Ruslan’s body. He had seen the blood, smelled it. He had buried him. So why was this note in his hand? How could someone be cruel enough to play with a ghost? Unless...

His heart beat so hard it felt like it would burst. His mouth was dry, his breathing shallow. Everything around him felt too quiet, like the calm before a storm. Like the world was holding its breath.

He looked down at the tiara in his hand. Lydia’s tiara. Her hair had still been tangled in its jewels earlier that night. She had laughed while putting it on, telling him she looked too royal and not herself. And now...

And now it lay cold in his palm. Her warmth gone from it. Just hours ago, her laughter had filled the room. That soft kind of laughter that always tugged at something deep in him. She’d made fun of the way he looked at her, always too serious. She said he needed to smile more. She had touched his face like he wasn’t dangerous. Like he wasn’t cursed.

Just then, Nikolai came running in.

His footsteps echoed too loudly in the hallway. He skidded to a stop at the door. His face changed the moment he saw Ivan standing there, eyes wide and hands clenched around Lydia’s tiara. His steps slowed, careful and uncertain.

He asked softly, "Are you okay, Your Highness?"

Ivan didn’t answer right away. He slowly turned to Nikolai and whispered, "No. This has to be a joke. It can’t be real."

There was fear in his voice. Real fear. Not for himself—but for her. Lydia.

The only woman who had ever seen through his walls. The only person who made him feel like he was more than a cursed name.

He remembered the way she touched his face when no one else dared. How she teased him when he was too serious. How she smiled like she was born to bring light into every dark room. And now she was gone.

Gone.

How could he go back to those rooms without her laughter echoing in them? What was the point of any of it, if he had no one to share it with?

Nikolai looked down at the crumpled note. Ivan handed it to him with shaking fingers. He didn’t even realize he was trembling that badly until the paper slipped and nearly fell.

Nikolai read it, and his eyes widened.

"This... I don’t understand," he stuttered.

"We saw his body," Ivan said, his voice hollow. "We buried him. He was dead. So how is this happening?"

His words sounded like he was trying to convince himself, not just Nikolai.

Nikolai shook his head. He had no answers. Just fear in his eyes.

Ivan didn’t wait.

He straightened up, something wild behind his eyes. The walls inside him were cracking. "We have to find her. Maybe they’re still inside the palace. He couldn’t have gone far. I’ll check the back gate. You take the main gate. Go!"

His voice was sharp. But his heart was drowning.

Without another word, Ivan ran, his heart pounding like a war drum. He barely felt the cold air stinging his face. It felt like his body was moving without him—driven by fear, by panic. Lydia. He had to find Lydia.

He raced to the back gate, breath coming out in clouds. His boots slid against the stone floor as he rounded the corner.

The guards there stood alert.

"Did anyone pass through here?" Ivan asked, voice sharp.

"No, Your Highness," one of them answered quickly. "Everything’s been quiet."

Ivan didn’t wait. He ran back toward the staircase, bumping into Nikolai halfway.

"Nothing at the main gate either," Nikolai said, out of breath.

Ivan’s eyes were dark. There was something unrecognizable in them now. "Then they’re still inside."

He called for the guards. Loudly, he declared, "Lock down the palace. No one leaves. If anyone sees a man with a scar, kill him on sight. No questions."

His voice shook with rage, but also with terror. His chest felt tight, like it was caving in. He couldn’t breathe properly. The thought of Lydia in danger twisted something deep inside him.

Katherine walked into the scene just then, her face drawn in confusion. "What’s going on?" she asked, looking around at the panic.

Ivan didn’t answer. He was already walking off with Nikolai and a few guards, checking every room. The ball still echoed in the background, music playing, people dancing, laughing.

But for Ivan, the world was silent. His body shook as he searched. Every door he opened without finding her made his heart sink deeper.

He rushed back to the staircase, hoping maybe, just maybe, it was all a bad dream. That he’d find her standing there, smiling. That she’d say something sarcastic and clever. That she’d touch his hand and make everything okay again.

Instead, he found Tatiana.

"Your Highness," she said, eyes filled with worry. "Is everything okay? I can’t find Her Highness anywhere."

Ivan didn’t speak. His chest rose and fell as if he were drowning.

Tatiana reached into her pocket, her hand shaking. She pulled out a bloodied diamond earring.

"I found this," she whispered. "Why do you have her tiara? Where is she?"

Ivan’s chest felt tight. Too tight. He took the earring with slow, shaking fingers and turned to Nikolai.

"Where did you find this?" he asked Tatiana.

"I was looking for you both. The guests were asking questions. So I came upstairs, and I saw this on the floor... right here. I panicked. I searched her chambers, the ballroom... I couldn’t find her."

Nikolai looked at her. "How long ago was that?"

"I don’t know. Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. I can’t remember."

Ivan couldn’t stand. His legs felt like they were about to give out. He held the rail of the staircase, his knees weak.

Everything was falling apart.

Nikolai tried to stay calm. "We’ll find her, Your Highness."

But Ivan shook his head. "Don’t you see? He tricked us. He made us think he was still inside. That way, we’d focus our search here and he could escape. This is all my fault."

His voice cracked.

He suddenly stood straight, full of rage and fear. "Get my sword."

Minutes later, he stormed out of the palace. The cold wind howled, and snow fell heavily. A storm had started. Still, he walked forward.

Right by the palace doors, he saw two soldiers lying in the snow. Dead. Their bodies were still warm.

His breath caught.

He ran to the stables, grabbed a horse, and rode out into the snow without hesitation.

At the gate, two more guards were found dead. Their blood stained the snow.

Ivan pushed on. The road ahead showed nothing. The snow had covered every track, every sign of escape. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

He rode through the forest, his eyes searching every shadow. He shouted her name. Again and again.

"Lydia! Lydia!"

No answer.

The only sound was the wind. And the sound of his heart shattering.

Nikolai soon joined him with other guards. They spread out and searched every tree, every rock, every path. Nothing.

The snow kept falling. Time passed. The sky began to brighten with the first light of dawn. Ivan hadn’t stopped. His face was cold. His hands were stiff. But he didn’t care.

He couldn’t take it anymore. In the middle of the woods, Ivan dropped to his knees. Tears filled his eyes.

He cried. In front of everyone, he broke down. He didn’t care who saw him. Lydia was gone.

He wasn’t just scared. He wasn’t just angry.

He was destroyed.

To him, Lydia wasn’t just someone he loved.

She was everything.

His voice was weak. Barely a whisper. "Come back to me... please..."

The guards stood back. Some turned away. Nikolai placed a hand on his shoulder.

But Ivan just cried.

Because in that moment, he wasn’t a prince. He wasn’t a warrior. He wasn’t strong.

He was just a man in love.

And the woman he loved was gone.