CHAPTER 122: THE PLEA

Lydia’s hands were trembling as she held the parchment.

At first, she thought maybe she was imagining things. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. But no. It was there. Written in ink, in cold, clear words. Words that made her whole world shake.

Her fingers went numb. The edges of the parchment dug into her skin, but she barely noticed. Her eyes ran over the words again and again, refusing to believe them. It was as if someone had pulled the ground from under her. Her legs felt hollow. Her heart? A cracked shell.

A soft, broken sound escaped her lips. It wasn’t even a cry—it was just air, escaping a body too full of pain. She blinked once, then again, but the words stayed there, haunting her, mocking her. Her throat felt tight, like something invisible was choking her from the inside.

The room felt colder. Even the air seemed heavier, harder to breathe. Her knees wobbled under her weight as if they didn’t know how to hold her anymore. She tried to tell herself that maybe it was a mistake. Maybe the wrong parchment had been delivered. But her name was there. His name too. Written with purpose. Final. Icy.

She wanted to scream, to tear the paper apart and throw it into the fire. But she couldn’t move. She just stood there, her breath coming out in shaky gasps.

Imperial Decree of Marital Dissolution between His Imperial Highness Grand Duke Ivan Alekseevich Romanov and Her Imperial Highness Grand Duchess Lydia Andreyevna

Her breath caught in her throat. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Tears welled in her eyes. And before she knew it, they started pouring down her cheeks.

She didn’t even wipe them. She just let them fall, hot and bitter. Her whole body was stiff with disbelief. The words didn’t make sense. Not when she could still smell his cologne in the room. Not when his shadow stretched across the floor right behind her.

Her fingers tightened around the parchment. It wrinkled under the pressure, the edges tearing slightly, but she didn’t care. She felt like someone had ripped open her chest and poured salt into the wound. It burned. Oh, it burned.

A part of her was still hoping this was a nightmare. That she’d wake up and find herself in his arms, like so many mornings before. She kept hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d call her name and hold her the way he used to. The way that made her believe everything would be okay.

Across the room, Ivan stood still, his arms crossed, his face like stone.

"Sign the papers," he said calmly. Too calmly. As if it meant nothing. As if it was just a document and not the end of their life together. "Neither of us wanted this marriage in the first place. So let’s end it here. We’ll go our separate ways."

He didn’t even look at her.

His tone cut deeper than any blade.

Lydia’s lips trembled. The man who used to hold her close on cold nights now couldn’t even meet her eyes. The man who once kissed away her tears now stood like a stranger. Cold. Distant. Unreachable.

Her hands began to shake violently. She felt like the breath in her lungs had turned to smoke. She couldn’t even hold the parchment straight anymore.

"And don’t worry," he continued, his voice flat. "You’ll be compensated once we separate. Name your price. Anything you want. Or better still, take what the Queen promised you."

Lydia stared at him, her eyes wide and full of disbelief. Her chest rose and fell quickly, like she couldn’t breathe. Her fingers gripped the parchment so hard it crumpled.

"Ivan... please," she whispered. Her voice cracked. She took a step toward him. "Please don’t do this to me. I know what I did was wrong. But I had no choice. I swear to you... I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t betray you. I promise. Please... I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. Don’t leave me. You’re all I have."

She sounded like a ghost of herself. No pride, no strength. Just pain. Pure, raw pain. Her words weren’t just words. They were pieces of her heart being ripped out and thrown at his feet.

She remembered the way he used to laugh when she teased him. The way he used to tug her hand into his coat pocket when it snowed. All those memories, bright and warm, now shattered like glass around her feet.

But he didn’t move.

He didn’t even blink.

He just said, without emotion, "Sign the parchment and stop wasting my time."

She froze. It was like being stabbed. Not with a knife—but with indifference. The worst kind of pain. The kind that told her she no longer mattered. That she could scream, bleed, collapse... and still, he wouldn’t flinch.

Her legs gave out beneath her. She dropped to the floor, her whole body trembling. Her sobs echoed in the quiet room.

It wasn’t quiet to her though. In her ears, it was thunder. A storm of broken dreams and shattered hope.

She couldn’t understand how he could be so calm. How he could stand there while she was falling apart. She had hurt him, yes—but didn’t he see she was already punishing herself a thousand times over? Every second without his love felt like drowning.

She had spent nights awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what she could do to fix things. She had prayed, begged, even bargained with herself. And now... it was over. Just like that.

He didn’t kneel.

He didn’t offer a hand.

He didn’t say a word of comfort.

He only said, again, in that same cold tone, "Get up and sign the papers."

But Lydia couldn’t. She didn’t want to.

She crawled forward, grabbed the hem of his coat, and clung to him.

"Please," she begged, her tears soaking his clothes. "I’m sorry... but I won’t sign it. I won’t leave you. I can’t leave you. Please, Ivan, don’t do this to me. I’ll do anything. Anything you ask. But please... don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much. I can’t live without you."

Her voice broke into a sob mid-sentence. She hugged him tightly, desperate, like a child afraid of being abandoned. Her heart was breaking right there on the floor.

She remembered the first time he kissed her—awkward, warm, trembling just like her. The way he had once whispered her name like it meant everything. And now... he pushed her away like she was nothing.

But he didn’t hug her back.

He grabbed her arms and pushed her away.

"So you won’t sign the papers," he said. His voice was still calm, but now colder. "Fine. I’ll just have to find another way."

And with that, he turned and left the room, leaving her behind.

Lydia remained on the floor, crying harder than she ever had before. Her heart was in pieces. Her whole body ached. It was like the world had ended.

She screamed into her hands. A muffled, ugly sound. The kind of sound that doesn’t come from the throat, but from the soul. She had given him everything. And now he was walking away like it all meant nothing.

Outside, Ivan walked down the stairs. His steps were steady. His eyes were empty.

The snow had started to fall again.

Tatiana saw him coming. She rushed to him, her steps light and quick.

"Your Highness," she said, bowing slightly. "Forgive me. Her Highness has been looking for you. I was sent to—"

But Ivan didn’t stop. He didn’t say a word. He walked past her like she wasn’t even there. Like nothing mattered anymore. He walked out of the palace and into the snow, disappearing into the cold.

Each step felt like it weighed a thousand stones, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. Because if he stopped, if he turned back... he might break too.

From a corner near the staircase, Katherine stood quietly, her face pale, her eyes full of worry. She had seen everything.

Her hands were trembling too. But unlike the others, she knew. She knew the truth. That this wasn’t hate. This wasn’t punishment. It was heartbreak.

A little while later, Lydia came down the stairs. Her steps were shaky. Her gown was crumpled. Her eyes were red and swollen. She looked like she might collapse.

Tatiana saw her and hurried over.

"Your Highness!" she cried, catching her just in time and guiding her gently to a nearby chair. "My God... what happened? Are you alright?"

Lydia didn’t answer right away. She clutched Tatiana’s arms like she was holding on for dear life. Then the words came, broken and full of pain.

"Tatiana," she sobbed. "What do I do? He wants to divorce me. He says he’ll leave me. I don’t want to leave him. I can’t... I can’t... I love him so much. I’ll do anything. Anything. Just please... help me."

Tatiana knelt beside her and pulled her into her arms. She held her tightly.

"Shh... shh," she whispered, stroking Lydia’s back like a mother would a child. "It’s alright. I’m here. I’ll talk to him. I’ll see what I can do. Don’t worry. Don’t cry. I’m here."

Lydia continued to sob, her head resting on Tatiana’s shoulder. Her body was shaking with grief. Her whole world had fallen apart.

And outside, the snow kept falling. Cold and silent. Just like Ivan.