CHAPTER 165: THE PLEA

Ivan lay stiffly on his bed. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling like he was staring into nothing. His face looked pale and lifeless, like he was wishing the ceiling would open and swallow him whole. His hands rested on the sheets, but they were not still. His fingers were tracing softly against the spot where Lydia had laid the previous night. It was like he was trying to hold on to something that had already slipped away.

Even if she was gone, he could still feel her warmth on the bed. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Her scent was still all over the room. Roses and jasmine. A scent that used to make his heart burn with longing now felt like a punishment. The room had become a prison filled with her memory. He turned his head to the side and his eyes fell on the robe she had worn, resting on the table beside him. He sat up slowly and picked it up with trembling hands. He pressed the fabric close to his face. It still smelled of her. That soft sweet scent. Tears stung his eyes until they spilled, running down his face silently. He held the robe to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

His chest ached so badly. He wanted to scream but his voice wouldn’t come. He wanted to break something, but his hands wouldn’t move. He sat there, frozen in pain, until a soft knock came at the door. It was faint, but it broke through the heavy silence. He didn’t answer. His mind was far away, buried in pain.

The door opened carefully, slowly. Someone stepped inside, carrying a tray. It was Tatiana. She was smiling faintly, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She said softly, "Good morning."

Ivan didn’t respond. His eyes didn’t even move to look at her. It was like he wasn’t really there.

Still, she carried the tray closer and said, "You didn’t come out for breakfast, so I brought it for you."

He did not even glance at the food. His body stayed stiff, his expression empty. Tatiana’s smile began to fade. She placed the tray on the table beside the bed and looked at him with irritation. "Are you going to be like this forever because of her? Look at you, Ivan. You look pathetic."

Her voice carried frustration. She was about to say more when the door suddenly burst open.

It was Katherine. She rushed in, her face pale, her breathing unsteady. Her expression was a storm, anger and sadness and confusion all mixed together. Her voice trembled as she spoke. "It’s not true, is it? You didn’t... what her highness said, it’s not true, right?"

The sudden noise pulled Ivan out of his trance. His eyes slowly turned to the door. His lips parted slightly, but no words came.

Tatiana frowned and muttered, "What’s with her?" She walked closer to the bed, still annoyed. "Why are you screaming so early? Who cares about what that girl said?"

Katherine ignored her. Her eyes were only on Ivan. She took a step forward. Her voice cracked as she asked, "What is she saying about a baby? A son? She said she had a son, and you knew about it. Please... tell me this isn’t true."

Tatiana froze. Her whole body stiffened. The tray in her hands almost slipped, but she managed to set it down quickly before it fell. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would burst.

Ivan sat still. His hands gripped the robe in his lap until his knuckles turned white. His jaw was clenched so tight it hurt. His chest rose and fell heavily, and then tears spilled silently down his cheeks.

Katherine’s voice shook more as she asked, "Why are you quiet? It’s not true. Right? Tell me it’s not true. There’s no way you could do something like that to her. I don’t believe it. It doesn’t make sense. Maybe she only assumed you knew. Maybe she didn’t tell you."

Her voice broke as she started sobbing. "There’s no way. Please, tell me I’m right."

Ivan finally spoke, his voice low, broken, almost like he was begging. "Please... leave. I wish to be alone."

The tone in his voice was enough to break anyone’s heart. He sounded like a man begging to be left to die in his own suffering.

Katherine shook her head quickly. "No. I’ll ask her again. She probably thinks you knew. There’s no way."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and left the room quickly, her footsteps echoing.

Tatiana was trembling badly now. She looked pale as she turned to leave as well. Somehow she managed to walk out, step by shaky step, until she reached her own chambers. As soon as the door closed behind her, her legs gave out. She collapsed to the floor.

"Lady Tatiana!" Yelena cried out, rushing to her side.

Tatiana’s face was soaked with tears. She kept shaking her head and clutching at Yelena’s arms. Her voice cracked with every word. "This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Why now? Why? What do I do, Yelena?"

Yelena’s eyes widened in confusion, but she hugged her tightly. "It’s alright. Everything is alright. You don’t have to worry, my lady. Please don’t cry."

But Tatiana could not stop crying. She buried her face into Yelena’s shoulder, her heart breaking.

Meanwhile, Lydia sat in a quiet room in her chambers. The window was open, and the morning air drifted in, but she barely noticed. She sat stiffly, trying to stop her tears. But her mind kept dragging her back to the past.

She remembered sitting alone by a small grave. The ground was fresh, the soil dark. There was no name carved on the stone. Her hands were trembling as she touched it. She had cried until her throat was sore, her voice gone. She had called Ivan’s name over and over, whispering, screaming, begging. "I’m scared. Please, I’m scared." But he never came. No matter how long she cried, no matter how much she begged, he never came.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. Her lips trembled as she whispered bitterly, "He didn’t even have a name."

Just then, a knock came on the door. Lydia quickly straightened her back and erased all traces of tears from her face. She composed herself, her expression calm. "Come in," she said.

The door opened, and Katherine walked in. Lydia sighed, her tone flat. "It’s you. What is it?"

Katherine said quietly, "It’s nothing." She picked up a brush from the vanity and walked carefully toward Lydia. She stood behind her and began brushing her hair gently.

Her voice was unsteady. "I... I..."

Lydia frowned. "What is it? Say what you want to say."

Katherine swallowed hard. Her voice shook. "I still don’t understand. Are you sure he knew? Are you sure he knew about the baby?"

Lydia’s face darkened. Anger rose inside her, turning her expression cold.

But Katherine continued, desperate. "I mean... I know his highness may be cold sometimes, but there’s no way he would abandon his own child. Maybe he didn’t know. That’s the only thing that makes sense."

Lydia let out a bitter laugh. Her voice was sharp with pain. "Is that what you believe? That he didn’t know?" She turned her head slightly, her eyes burning. "You just asked him, didn’t you, Katherine? Did he look surprised?"

Katherine’s lips trembled. "No..." she whispered.

"Exactly," Lydia said coldly. "Because he knew."

Her voice cracked, but she pushed on. "I wrote to him myself. I told him everything. Do you want to know what he did?"

Katherine’s heart pounded. "What... what did he do?"

Lydia’s face broke. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with tears. "He... he said..." Her voice cut off as tears poured down her face.

Before she could finish, the door opened wide.

A woman in her late thirties stumbled inside. Her clothes were messy, her face pale. She dropped to her knees and began sobbing loudly. "Save me, your highness. Please, help me!"

Lydia stared at her in shock. Katherine froze, her brush still in her hand. She turned to look at Lydia, her eyes wide with confusion.

The room was heavy with silence, except for the desperate cries of the woman on the floor.