CHAPTER 123: EVERYTHING WAS NOTHING

Lydia sat in her room for hours, alone and quiet. The breakfast that had been brought to her earlier was still on the table, untouched and cold. Just like Ivan. She couldn’t even look at the food, let alone eat. Her stomach hurt, but her heart hurt more. Since waking up that morning and seeing the divorce papers in front of her, everything felt like a nightmare. A terrible, painful nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.

Her eyes were swollen from crying. Her face felt tight and puffy. She had cried so much she didn’t think she had any tears left, but her body was still shaking. Every time she thought of Ivan, her chest ached like someone had grabbed her heart and crushed it. She kept asking herself the same question over and over again.

Why is he doing this to me?

Her fingers clutched the edge of her robe. Her knuckles turned white. She couldn’t understand. She thought love was supposed to protect you. She thought he would always believe her. She thought he was the one person in the world who would never turn his back on her. And yet, here she was—abandoned like a stranger. A traitor. Branded with lies she couldn’t erase.

The room felt colder than usual, though the fire in the hearth still burned. Everything looked the same, but nothing felt familiar anymore. Even the paintings on the wall, the furniture, the window she used to gaze from—they all felt like they belonged to someone else now. Not her. Not the woman who used to believe in fairytales.

She didn’t know what to do. What could she do? Ivan was serious. He wanted to leave her. She didn’t understand why. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He wasn’t listening to her. He didn’t care about anything she said.

She had loved him with every part of her being. She had prayed for him, defended him, waited for him when others had turned away. And now... now she was nothing to him. Nothing but a name on a piece of paper he wanted to erase.

Then she heard it. The sound of a horse outside. His horse. He was back. Her body froze. Her legs felt weak, but somehow she forced herself to stand. Her hands trembled as she moved to go meet him. Each step felt heavier than the last.

She walked like a ghost, her breath short and cold. Her mind screamed for her to stop, to turn back, to hide. But her heart—foolish and desperate—needed to see him. Needed one last chance. Just one. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he came to say it was all a mistake. Maybe...

Downstairs, Tatiana was already waiting. The moment Ivan stepped in, she rushed to him, her face filled with concern. "Your Highness," she said softly, "can we talk?"

Ivan barely looked at her. "If it’s about the Grand Duchess, then don’t bother," he said coldly. "I’m still divorcing her, no matter what."

Tatiana’s voice shook. "Please, Your Highness, you’re being too much. You’re hurting her. You, of all people, should understand her. You don’t have to do this. You know she’s a good person. You know how much she loves you."

Ivan scoffed and gave a bitter, cold smile. "Good? Love? I don’t care." His voice was like ice. "Stay in your place, Tatiana."

Then he walked away, leaving Tatiana stunned. She just stood there, staring at him, not believing what she’d just heard.

At a distance, Lydia had seen it all. Her heart sank lower. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she watched Ivan walk toward her. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. As he passed her, he said, "I need you in my study. Now."

His voice was sharp. Empty. It cut through her like a knife.

Lydia followed him, her knees weak, her breath shaky. Inside the study, Ivan sat down behind his desk. His face was hard, empty. He didn’t care whether she sat or stood. He just looked at her with eyes that used to hold so much love. Now they held nothing.

She didn’t sit. She couldn’t. Her legs locked in place, like her body didn’t know how to exist in this moment. Like everything inside her had gone numb.

On the table in front of him were the divorce papers. Her heart clenched just seeing them again.

A knock came at the door. A servant entered with a sealed parchment. Ivan didn’t even look at it. "Give it to her," he said.

With shaking hands, Lydia took the parchment. Her fingers could barely open it. She looked at the seal. It was from the church. Slowly, she unfolded the paper and read.

Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor. Her vision blurred from fresh tears. She picked up the paper again and read it out loud in a broken voice.

The document was cold and cruel:

By order of the Holy Church, in accordance with the laws of Svetlana and the Imperial House, His Royal Highness, the Grand Duke Ivan Romanov, has hereby requested a divorce from Her Highness, the Grand Duchess Lydia Andreyevna. The grounds stated are those of infidelity. Due to the dishonor brought upon the royal family, the Grand Duchess shall be exiled from the province of Svetlana immediately following the confirmation of this decree.

Her whole body shook. She grabbed her chest, trying to breathe. It was too much. The words kept echoing in her head. Infidelity. Exile. Dishonor.

Her lips trembled as she looked up at Ivan, sobbing. "Why?" she asked through her tears. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Ivan said nothing. Not a word. He just stared.

"I told you the truth," she cried. "Why won’t you believe me? How could you think of doing this to me? Do you have any idea what will happen to me if you leave me like this? I know you’re angry, but... Ivan, infidelity?"

Her voice broke again. She was shaking so hard she could barely sit up. Her entire world was crashing around her, and he was just sitting there—still, uncaring, unmoved.

He finally stood up, his face still cold. "Don’t blame me," he said. "It’s all on you. I agree, maybe it’s too harsh. But you’re a liar, aren’t you? So it’s only fair."

Her eyes widened in shock. "I’m not a liar," she whispered.

"If you think it’s too much," he continued, "then sign the divorce agreement. At least that way, you can still walk away with your dignity."

Lydia’s voice cracked. "Is there nothing I can do to stop you? Ivan, please. I’ll do anything. Please don’t do this."

She didn’t even realize she was crawling toward him. She grabbed the edge of the desk, her fingers barely able to grip it. "I’ll change. I’ll leave quietly if you want. Just don’t say I betrayed you. Don’t send me away like I’m some shameful thing."

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her with kindness. He just pushed the pen toward her.

"Sign it."

Lydia stared at the papers. Her heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst. She searched his eyes, looking for a trace of the man she had loved. The man who used to hold her and whisper promises. The man who would never hurt her.

But she couldn’t find him. All she saw was a stranger.

He didn’t care. He was going to ruin her and walk away.

Her hands trembled as she looked between the two parchments. One was the agreement. The other was the church decree. Either way, he was leaving her. But if she didn’t sign, she would be marked forever as an adulteress. She would be ruined.

There was no way to win.

Her knees shook as she tried to stand. She had no choice.

With a heavy heart and hands that wouldn’t stop trembling, she picked up the pen. Her tears dropped onto the parchment, soaking into the paper. Her fingers could barely move, but she managed to write her name.

She signed it.

And then she collapsed. Her body hit the floor. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart felt like it was breaking into pieces. Her whole chest hurt. She held it and cried.

But he didn’t even flinch. He took the parchment from her hands and calmly signed it himself.

"I’ll have it sealed by the priest tomorrow morning," he said, his voice without emotion. Then he stood up and added, "By tomorrow morning, I want you gone. I don’t want to see your face again. You are exiled from Svetlana."

Lydia looked up at him, her mouth open, her whole body shaking. "You’re still exiling me?" she asked softly. "Even after this?"

"Yes," he said. "You’ll leave Svetlana."

And that was it.

Her world fell apart. Everything she had known. Everything she had built. Every dream, every promise. All of it shattered.

She held her chest and cried. Her voice was small, barely a whisper. "Ivan... please. You’re hurting me."

He didn’t look at her. He didn’t care. He walked out of the room, leaving her on the floor.

Like she meant nothing.