CHAPTER 141: THE MIRROR OF TIME

It was sunset. The golden light from the fading sun spilled through the tall glass windows of Lydia’s chambers, touching her face with warmth. She stood in front of her mirror, the kind of mirror framed with carved flowers and vines, and looked at her reflection like it was a painting she was studying.

Her hair was curled, not softly but in a way that gave it shape and strength. The strands caught the light like silk threads. Resting on her head was a blue diamond tiara, its stones cut so sharply that they sparkled with every small movement she made.

Her makeup was not gentle. It was precise and breathtaking. Her lips held a deep colour, her eyes lined to make them seem endless. She wore a dress of sea blue, and on it were tiny pearls sewn carefully so that they caught the light like drops of water on the ocean. The dress was sleeveless, showing her bare shoulders, and it moved softly when she shifted.

Around her neck lay a blue diamond necklace, the same shade as the sea after a storm. Matching bracelets and rings adorned her hands and wrists. Her shoes were the same sea blue, decorated with tiny pearls so delicate they almost looked like morning dew. She looked soft and beautiful, yet there was something dangerous in the way she carried herself — like the sea itself, beautiful and calm at the surface, but deadly beneath.

A knock came at the door.

"Come in," Lydia said without looking away from her reflection.

Katherine stepped inside, her expression tight with worry. She closed the door behind her and walked forward slowly.

"Your Highness," Katherine began, her voice quiet but serious, "I am worried. This is the third ball in a single week. You will definitely get into trouble if you keep doing this."

Lydia did not even blink at her words. She tilted her head slightly, watching how the pearls in her hair caught the candlelight.

"I look so beautiful in blue," Lydia said softly, almost to herself. "People are right. Blue really is my colour. It looks soft... but deadly."

She giggled — not the sound of a carefree girl, but the light, sharp laugh of someone who knew exactly what she was doing.

"God, I’m so beautiful," she whispered, turning her head this way and that in the mirror.

Katherine’s brow furrowed. "Your Highness, I am being serious."

Lydia finally turned her gaze toward her, but her eyes were cold. "So am I." Her voice had no warmth. "I do not care about the royal family or their reaction. What I care about right now..." she leaned closer to the mirror and touched her earring gently, "...is whether I look beautiful."

Katherine exhaled slowly. "Yes, Your Highness. You do look breathtaking."

Lydia’s lips curved into a smile. She touched the side of her neck, still admiring her reflection. "I am so pretty," she murmured. "I look like my mother."

Katherine’s shoulders sank in defeat. Without another word, she turned and quietly left the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Lydia’s smile faded. Her eyes in the mirror changed. All of a sudden the playful shine was gone. What replaced it was emptiness. Her expression was unreadable, like a mask had been taken off and what was beneath could not be named. She stood there for a moment longer, then looked away from her reflection as if it no longer mattered. She took a few breaths and without another word she glanced at herself again in the mirror.

---

Far away in the capital, Olga sat in her private chambers, the weight of her crown and her responsibilities pressing on her. She had been reviewing letters when the door opened suddenly and her lady-in-waiting rushed in.

"Your Majesty—"

Olga did not wait to hear the rest. She stood at once, her skirts brushing the polished floor. "That girl," she muttered sharply, "is crossing the line."

Her anger was sharp enough to make her walk faster. She headed straight for Vladimir’s chambers, each step fueled by her irritation.

But just as she was about to turn a corner, Pavel, the Grand Chamberlain, stepped into her path. He was standing a short distance away, hands folded, his face careful but serious.

"Your Majesty," he said.

Olga’s eyes narrowed. "Whatever it is you have to say must wait. It cannot be as important as that girl making a mockery of the empire."

Pavel took in a slow breath, his eyes meeting hers. "Actually... there is something I heard."

Olga stopped. "What is it?"

"It is about the girl," Pavel said cautiously.

"Continue," Olga ordered.

"I overheard people gossiping at the market this morning," he said. "They were speaking about her... saying she has been humiliating the Grand Duke."

Olga’s frown deepened. "What do you mean by humiliating?"

"According to the rumours," Pavel explained, "she dances and flirts with other men while he stands there, watching her... hopelessly. Like he is dying inside."

Olga’s eyes sharpened. "Are you certain about this?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Pavel replied without hesitation.

Olga was silent for a moment. Her lips pressed together, and then a slow, cold smile touched them. "If that is the case," she said softly, "then I will leave her be."

---

Back in the palace at Svetlana, Tatiana was in her chambers.

She stood before her mirror, her maid fastening the last clasp on her pearl necklace. Her dress was sky blue, the kind of blue that made her skin look paler and her eyes darker. Pearls were threaded into her hair, and she looked soft and graceful, but her smile did not match.

Her smile was sharp and deadly.

She tilted her head slightly in the mirror, admiring herself for a moment. Then she spoke under her breath, her voice smooth and dangerous.

"I will make sure you look like a fool tonight... dear Grand Duchess."

Her reflection in the mirror smiled back at her, and it was not a kind smile.