CHAPTER 133: TURN A BLIND EYE

It was sunrise. The soft light of spring warmed the earth gently, chasing away the cold memories of winter. The birds outside chirped sweetly, and the trees swayed slowly with the breeze. It should have been a beautiful morning. It should have brought peace. But instead, it carried tension so thick it could hardly be ignored.

Everything was ready for the journey back to Svetlana. The royal carriage, polished and shining, stood waiting at the front of the estate. Guards stood tall, servants hurried about, and the horses pawed at the ground, restless.

Inside her room, Lydia stood before the tall mirror. She didn’t look like someone preparing for a long road trip. She looked like a woman heading to a grand ball. She wore a deep maroon dress that hugged her waist and flowed to the floor, with gold embroidery on the sleeves and hem. Golden jewelry sparkled on her neck and wrists. A delicate feathered hairpiece sat atop her head. She looked stunning, almost unreal. Like a woman ready for battle.

Katherine walked in quietly and stopped for a second, just to take in the sight of her.

"Your Highness," she said softly, "everything is ready for the journey. The carriage is waiting."

Then in a soft and concerned tone, Katherine asked, "Will you be okay, Your Highness?"

Lydia didn’t look at her. She simply stared at her reflection, lips parted slightly, as if she was trying to remember who that woman in the mirror really was.

"I will. You don’t have to worry," she finally whispered. Then she turned. "Since everything is ready, we should head down. Let’s go."

Her steps down the staircase were graceful. She held her chin high, her posture perfect. It was as if nothing could touch her anymore. But on the inside, she felt like she was holding back a scream.

Halfway down, she ran into Ivan. He was fully dressed and waiting. Their eyes met briefly, and then passed each other like strangers. There was no greeting. No smile. Not even a nod.

Just then, Boris approached. He bowed seeing her. "Your Highness," he said to Lydia, "his Majesty seeks your presence. He’s expecting you in his study."

She paused. Let out a sigh. Then turned and walked in the direction of the study without saying a word.

Boris watched her leave, then turned to Ivan.

"Your Highness," he said carefully.

Ivan didn’t answer. His eyes were still on Lydia’s fading figure. His eyes were sad and full of unsaid emotions.

In the study, Vladimir looked up from a parchment when Lydia stepped in.

"Please, have a seat," he said putting the parchment down for a moment.

Lydia remained standing. Her voice calm but distant. "There’s no time to sit. We should be on the road by now."

Vladimir nodded. "You are right. So I’ll go straight to the point." He placed the parchment down. "Why did you return?"

She didn’t answer. Her face stayed unreadable.

"I know Ivan made a mistake by divorcing you. I know he did hurt you and you have every right to be angry. I know you came back to hurt him," he continued. "I know I have no right to ask, but can you forgive him? For my sake?"

Lydia finally looked at him. But there was nothing behind her eyes. No fire. No sadness. Just silence.

Outside, Boris shifted his weight and glanced again at Ivan.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" he asked quietly.

Ivan didn’t respond.

"I heard what happened last night," Boris continued. "Are you really sure about all of this?"

Ivan lowered his eyes. "I don’t know."

Boris sighed. "Who would have thought such a sweet girl would become this way?"

Ivan’s lips parted. A whisper escaped. "It’s all my fault."

Boris looked at him, confused. "What do you mean? Your Highness, is there something you’re not telling us?"

Back in the study, Lydia finally spoke.

Her voice was cold.

"Your Majesty," she said. "You’ve turned a blind eye all this time. I suggest you continue doing so."

Vladimir blinked. He opened his mouth, but she didn’t let him speak.

"I won’t leave," she said. "And not even you, the Czar, can make me."

He looked at her, confused. "What makes you say that?"

She held his gaze. "Because you still owe me. For saving his life three years ago."

He looked shaken.

She gave a slow bow. "I expect you to turn a blind eye to whatever I do, as my reward."

Then she turned and walked out.

Ivan stood not far off, watching her. His chest rose and fell slowly. He looked like a man drowning silently. Lydia didn’t even glance at him.

Tatiana stood by the stairs. Her eyes followed Lydia like a hawk. Her fists were clenched, and she held her stomach tightly, trying to hold back the tears.

In another part of the estate, Olga sat in her room, painting delicate flowers on a canvas. The brush moved slowly in her hand. Her mind was far away.

A knock came at her door. Pavel, the grand chamberlain, entered.

"Your Majesty," he said. "They’re about to leave. Aren’t you going to do something?"

Olga didn’t look up.

"Why would I?" she asked calmly.

Pavel frowned. "About the girl. I thought you’d do something. After how she insulted you."

A slow smile spread across Olga’s lips.

"Yes," she said. "I’m angry. But I have a bigger fish to fry."

Pavel looked puzzled. "I don’t understand."

She finally looked at him.

"I’ve always wanted to get revenge on the Grand Duke," she said softly. "But now she’s here. I’m curious what she’ll do to him."

"I don’t follow," Pavel admitted.

Olga leaned back. Her smile turned sharper.

"Don’t you see?" she said. "His Highness is very much in love with her. And she utterly despises him. What’s worse than a lover who has stopped loving you and now wants you to bleed? I don’t need to do anything. She torment him herself."

Pavel said nothing.

"Let them be," she said. "For now."