CHAPTER 125: EVERYTHING TURNED TO ASHES

Lydia sat in the carriage, her fingers digging into the seat beneath her. The soft creaking of the wooden wheels echoed in her ears, but she barely heard it. Her eyes stared blankly through the window as the buildings and white rooftops of Svetlana began to disappear behind her.

Each mile that passed felt like something was being ripped out of her chest.

This wasn’t real.

It felt like a nightmare.

A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.

Her breath came in shallow, shaky bursts. The kind that hurt your ribs and made your throat burn. She tried to steady it, but it only made the ache worse.

The cold seeped into her bones, but her skin burned from the pain inside. Her chest felt tight, as though something heavy had fallen on it and refused to move.

She was shaking. Trembling so hard her teeth almost chattered, not from the cold, but from everything else.

Ivan had really done it. He had really sent her away.

He had thrown her out of his life. Just like that.

Like she meant nothing. Like all the nights they had spent whispering promises meant nothing. Like the love in his eyes had been a lie.

Tears burned her eyes again, but she had already cried so much, they hardly came anymore. Her throat was dry. Her stomach empty. She hadn’t eaten all day. She couldn’t. How could she swallow food when her whole world was falling apart?

She looked down at her hands resting on her lap. They were pale, trembling. Just like the rest of her.

Her nails dug into her palms as if pain might keep her grounded. But it didn’t. It only reminded her of how powerless she was. Of how small she felt.

Her lips parted in a shaky breath. Her body felt weak. She hadn’t slept, hadn’t rested. She was so tired. So tired of crying. So tired of hurting.

So tired of hoping for someone who never came after her.

Her eyes drifted to the icy glass again. The snow-covered trees passed by slowly. Her heart squeezed as she thought of the palace. Of their room. Of him.

Ivan.

She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep the sob from escaping, but it still came. A small broken sound from the back of her throat.

He had left her.

He had promised never to do that. He had told her he would protect her, stand by her. But now she was here. Alone in this carriage.

Alone with nothing but the shattered pieces of her heart.

Her tears slipped silently down her face now. No gasps. No cries. Just quiet, painful weeping.

Two long hours passed.

They finally reached a small town on the edge of the border. It was quiet and still, covered in frost. The air was so cold it hurt to breathe. But Lydia didn’t notice.

She didn’t care.

Up ahead, through the foggy glass, she saw an inn. And standing a little distance from it was Irina. Her godmother.

Irina’s coat flapped gently in the breeze. Her arms were folded, but her face wasn’t as hard as it usually was. It was soft. Sad. Full of pain.

Even from afar, Lydia could see the worry in her godmother’s eyes. The way her mouth trembled, trying to stay calm.

The carriage stopped.

Lydia blinked slowly. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the door. Her heart beat loudly in her ears. She stepped down, her knees almost giving way.

The moment she saw Irina, her body gave up. She didn’t walk. She didn’t speak. She just fell into her arms.

"I’m here," Irina whispered softly, holding her tightly.

Lydia clung to her like a drowning child.

"I... I don’t know what to do," she cried brokenly into her godmother’s shoulder. "Godmother, what do I do... what do I do..."

She couldn’t stop crying now. The dam had broken. Her voice cracked. Her hands gripped at Irina’s coat like she was afraid she’d vanish too.

Irina cupped her face and wiped her tears gently. "It’s alright, my sweet child. I’ve got you now. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. I promise."

Her voice was low and soothing, like a lullaby.

"Come," she whispered. "It’s freezing out here. Let’s go inside."

Lydia nodded weakly, still crying. But as she took a step forward, her vision spun. The inn, the snow, the trees—everything started to blur. Her legs buckled.

"Lydia?" Irina gasped.

And then, everything went black.

Lydia collapsed.

—

Back at the capital, the fire in the hearth crackled softly in Olga’s chambers.

The Queen sat comfortably on a velvet chair, popping grapes into her mouth one by one. She looked calm. Almost lazy. In her hand was a folded note.

Tatiana’s message.

She stared at it a moment longer before flicking it into the flames. The paper curled, blackened, and vanished.

A knock came at the door.

The Grand Chamberlain entered quickly, his face tight with nerves. "Your Majesty!" he said breathlessly. "The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess... they’ve annulled their marriage."

Olga didn’t flinch.

"The news has spread throughout the capital... if not the entire kingdom. Everyone is in shock."

He took a shaky breath. "What are we going to do, Your Highness?"

Olga calmly picked another grape and placed it in her mouth.

"About what?" she asked, as if he’d asked her about the weather.

The Grand Chamberlain blinked. "About the plan... The girl! You brought her here to help us find his weakness. How are we supposed to do that now? She’s gone."

Olga smiled faintly. A slow, cold smile.

"You worry too much, Pavel."

He looked confused.

She stood and walked to the fire, poking at it gently. The flames hissed.

"Didn’t you notice something at the ball?" she asked.

He frowned, then nodded. "They looked... completely in love."

"Exactly."

Olga turned to him, her voice low and quiet. "That was my plan all along. I never sent that girl to find his weakness. Because I knew from the beginning—he had none. Not the kind you could see."

Pavel stared at her, not understanding.

"I sent her to become one," she said. "From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she would be the perfect key to break him. I didn’t need to destroy him myself. I just had to make him fall in love."

The Grand Chamberlain paled. "But... he divorced her. Doesn’t that ruin everything?"

Olga’s eyes narrowed.

"Don’t you find that strange?" she whispered. "Why would a man so deeply in love suddenly throw her away?"

She walked over to a drawer and pulled out a small parcel. It was sealed and unmarked. She held it gently in her hands.

"My sources say he found out about our deal," she continued. "And instead of confronting me... he chose to end things. Quietly. Just like that."

Pavel looked down, his thoughts racing.

"He’s hiding something," Olga said with a smile. "Or protecting someone. He burned himself to save her. That’s who he is."

Her fingers caressed the parcel softly.

"And that’s exactly what I wanted to see."

—

Back in Svetlana, Ivan stood alone in Lydia’s empty room.

The silence in the room was heavy. Too heavy.

Everything felt cold.

The air, the walls, even the soft curtains. It was all cold now.

She was gone.

He looked around slowly. Everything had been cleared out. The warmth, the laughter, her scent... all of it was missing.

All that remained was a book lying quietly on the bed.

The Last Voyage of Captain Elias.

Their favorite book.

His fingers reached for it. He picked it up and stared at the worn cover.

Then he pressed it against his chest and broke down.

"I’m sorry..."

His voice cracked.

"I’m so sorry, Lydia. I didn’t want this. I didn’t mean to... I had no other choice..."

His knees hit the floor as he wept.

Like a man who had lost everything.

Like a man who had set fire to his own heart.

—

Back at the inn, Lydia lay in a bed, pale and still.

Irina paced the room anxiously.

A physician stood beside the bed, checking her pulse.

"I don’t know what happened," Irina said quickly. "She just collapsed. She hasn’t eaten or slept in days. Is she going to be alright?"

The physician leaned back and gave a small nod.

"There’s nothing seriously wrong with her. She’s just exhausted and overwhelmed. She needs rest. Food. And less stress."

Irina breathed out, relief flooding her chest.

Just then, Lydia stirred. Her eyelids fluttered open slowly.

"Lydia," Irina said, rushing to her side.

The physician spoke again. "She also needs to take special care of herself now. Especially for the sake of her baby."

The words dropped like a stone in the room.

Irina’s eyes widened.

"What did you say?" she asked sharply.

Lydia blinked, confused. "What... what do you mean?"

The physician looked between them.

"My lady... you’re with child."

Lydia’s heart dropped. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Irina just stood there. Frozen.

The room went quiet.

Too quiet.

—

TO BE CONTINUED