CHAPTER 193: THERE’S NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HATE AND LOVE

The ball went on. It was lively, it was beautiful. Music filled the air and laughter spread across the grand ballroom. Everyone was dancing, cheering, and enjoying themselves. Everyone except Lydia.

She stood still, Anna by her side. Her emerald dress shimmered under the lights, her jewels sparkled, but inside she felt nothing. Her stomach twisted as if she might be sick. The music rang in her head until it sounded almost like thunder. The laughter of nobles was too loud, too sharp. She wanted to cover her ears. But she had to stay, she had to stand tall, and pretend she was fine. Pretend that nothing in the world touched her. Yet deep inside, she knew she was not fine at all.

Outside by the lake, Ivan still sat by the shore. The night air was colder now. His once-drenched clothes were now half dry, stiff from the chill. He had stared at the lake so long it felt as though it had swallowed everything that belonged to him. Not just the necklace, but his hope, his breath, his past. Finally, he stood. He looked down at the black water one last time. There was no chance of finding the necklace again unless he drained the entire lake. He sighed deeply, his chest heavy, and turned to head back to the palace.

Back in the ballroom, Lydia’s head pounded. The music grew louder and louder. The clinking of glasses, the burst of laughter, the high pitch of violins — all of it crashed together until she felt like she was drowning.

Anna noticed Lydia’s hand trembling. She leaned closer, her voice soft, "Are you okay, your highness?"

Lydia forced her lips into something like a smile. "I’m fine," she lied. Her voice trembled though. Inside, she was not fine. Her whole body shook.

Then someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned too quickly, her reaction too sharp. It was only Damir.

She quickly forced another smile, trying to calm herself. She needed to look strong, collected. Like a Grand Duchess.

"Lydia," Damir said carefully, studying her face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she answered quickly. "I’m fine. Just... just a little stressed." She turned to Anna. "Please, get me something to drink."

Anna nodded at once. "Yes, Your Highness," she said, and walked away.

Lydia turned back to Damir, her false smile still on her lips. He smiled back at her, though his eyes were worried.

"There’s something I would love to tell you," he began gently.

"What is it?" Lydia asked.

But before he could continue, her eyes caught something. A couple was dancing at the center of the ballroom. They were lost in each other, smiling, laughing, twirling with such happiness that it almost glowed around them.

The sight pierced Lydia like a knife. Her heart twisted. It reminded her of herself and Ivan. That night at the Ember Light Ball, when she had danced with him and felt like the happiest woman in the world. She could almost hear the music again, almost hear his voice calling her name with such warmth.

Her eyes filled with tears. She whispered to herself, "It’s the past... it doesn’t matter."

"Lydia?" Damir asked, hearing her broken whisper. "What is it?"

Her vision blurred with tears. She tried to blink them away but they came faster. All she could think about was Ivan. His face. His voice. His touch. She tried to push him out of her mind, whispering to herself that she hated him. But no matter how much she said it, he stayed inside her heart. He would not leave. The sight of the dancing couple only tore her deeper. They were happy. They had what she should have still had. If only he had not abandoned her.

Her whole body trembled.

Anna returned quickly, holding a glass of nectar. "Here, your highness," she said.

Lydia’s hands shook as she reached for it. She managed to sip a little, but it tasted bitter on her tongue. She could not swallow anymore. Her throat closed up. Her mind felt like it might explode.

"I need air," she whispered softly. Her voice was barely there. "Please excuse me."

She walked out of the ballroom, her steps shaky, her legs weak. Her eyes were glassy, her chest heavy. She could not hold on anymore. She was breaking down. She moved past the nobles, through the corridors, until she reached one of the lounges.

Her heart stopped when she stepped in. It was the wrong lounge. Not just any lounge. The one she and Ivan had used in the past.

Her lips trembled as she muttered, "Out of all the rooms... why this one."

Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was punishment. Maybe it was because this was the place she had first told him she loved him. The place where he had promised he would never leave her. The place where he last told her "I love you." It was the room where everything had been built, and where everything had been shattered.

Her trembling legs carried her to the piano. She touched the keys with shaking fingers. Then her eyes fell on the chaise. Her breath caught.

And she broke.

Tears poured out of her eyes before she could stop them. She covered her mouth to hold back the sound, but her sobs broke through. She couldn’t stop them. She couldn’t hold them anymore. The pain poured out with every tear.

Then the door opened.

It was Ivan. His hair still damp, his clothes heavy from the night air.

"Lydia," he breathed the moment he saw her.

She gasped and quickly tried to compose herself. She wiped her face with her sleeve, but her eyes were red, her cheeks wet. She looked like she had been shattered into pieces.

Ivan’s chest tightened painfully. He stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. He walked to her slowly, his eyes never leaving her.

When he reached her, he lifted his hands and cupped her face gently. His thumbs rested against her cheeks. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. His voice broke on the words.

Lydia opened her lips. She wanted to say "I’m fine. Leave me alone." She wanted to push him away. But no sound came. Her voice failed her.

All she felt was the warmth of his hands. His touch was tender, careful, like she was fragile glass.

A tear slipped from her eyes. Ivan’s heart broke completely. He hated seeing her like this. He brushed the tear away with his thumb, so softly.

Lydia closed her eyes. Just his presence, just his touch, soothed the storm in her chest a little. The ache did not vanish, but it lessened. She could breathe again. She could almost forget for a moment.

Her eyes opened slowly, and they fell on his lips. Her heart raced, her breath caught. She could not think. She could not stop herself.

And so she leaned in.

She kissed him.

Her lips trembled against his, desperate and soft. The kiss was not steady. It was full of pain, full of tears, but also full of all the love she tried so hard to bury.