CHAPTER 201: THE JOURNEY THROUGH LOVE AND LONGING PT4

The sun was rising.

The first streams of light slipped through the thin curtains of the inn room. The dull shadows of night slowly faded, and the wooden walls grew warmer under the glow of morning. Birds could be heard faintly outside, their song blending with the sound of footsteps from the inn below.

Ivan stirred first. His eyes opened slowly, heavy from sleep. But the moment he became aware, his body tensed. His heart stopped for a breath.

Lydia.

She was in his arms.

Curled softly against his chest, her face turned toward him, her lashes still resting on her cheeks. His arms had wrapped around her during the night, holding her close. Their bodies were so close he could feel the rhythm of her breathing, steady and calm.

For a moment, he didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. He simply stared.

It felt unreal. Like a dream he had no right to dream. His world, which had long since fallen apart, seemed to come back together in this single instant. It felt wrong to hold her like this. He knew it. He knew he had no right. But at the same time, it felt so achingly right that he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

He tightened his hold slightly, closing his eyes as he breathed in her scent. Her hair tickled against his chin, soft and familiar. He wanted time to stop. He wanted the world to stay still so he could just stay like this, just once more, without anyone taking it from him.

He thought of all the nights he had lain awake alone, wishing to feel her in his arms again. And now, though it was by accident, though it was fragile and fleeting, he finally had it.

He held her tighter, as though this moment might shatter if he loosened his grip.

But then she stirred.

Her body shifted against him, her lashes fluttering as her eyes blinked open. She froze the moment she realised where she was. Her gaze met his chest, his arms around her, the closeness that felt like too much.

She immediately sat up, moving away from him with quick, shaky motions. Her cheeks burned. Her breath caught.

What is wrong with me, she thought. I must have rolled toward him in my sleep. How could I—why would I—

She shook her head quickly, forcing the thought away. She couldn’t allow herself to think more.

Ivan sat up slowly. His gaze lingered on her, soft and pained, but he said nothing. His lips parted once as though he wanted to speak, but the words never came.

Silence. Heavy, unspoken silence filled the space between them.

Then, a knock at the door.

They both startled slightly. Ivan rose and opened it.

Xenia stood there with a bow, carrying a small basin of steaming water in one hand and a basket of fresh towels and folded clothes in the other.

"Your Highness," she said. Her voice was bright, trying to sound steady though her eyes were tired. "I brought water for washing. And fresh clothes."

Lydia turned to her quickly. "Where were you yesterday? I waited for you. I needed help to change."

Xenia lowered her head in shame. "I apologise, Your Highness. I was very tired... I fell asleep. Please forgive me."

Lydia sighed. She wanted to be angry, but she was too exhausted, too unsettled from what had just happened. "It’s fine," she said at last. "Let’s just get ready so we can leave."

Xenia bowed her head gratefully. "Yes, Your Highness."

Within half an hour, they were ready. The carriages rolled out once more, continuing toward the capital.

The hours stretched long. The wheels turned endlessly against the road, the horses’ hooves beating in rhythm.

In Anna and Boris’s carriage, the air was uneasy. Anna sat stiffly, her hands clenched together. Her fingers twitched restlessly against her dress.

Boris noticed. He had been watching her quietly since yesterday, but now he finally spoke. "Are you alright?" His voice was calm, almost gentle.

Anna startled slightly, then forced a small nod. "I’m fine."

But Boris tilted his head. "No. You’re not. Since yesterday you’ve been uneasy. What is wrong?"

Anna’s lips trembled. She looked down at her lap, struggling. Finally, she whispered, "It’s just... I’m worried about Her Highness."

"Because of the trial?" Boris asked.

Anna nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Yes. I know it’s my fault."

Boris frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Her voice broke as she spoke. "Because she must have angered the senate with that law she made. But she only did it to protect me. To protect women like me. If she hadn’t... if she had just stayed quiet... then maybe none of this would have happened."

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them quickly with the back of her hand. "And now she’s facing dismissal because of me. And I can’t do anything. I can’t help her. I feel so guilty."

Boris leaned forward. His eyes softened. "Anna, listen to me. You did nothing wrong. You hear me? Nothing. You don’t have to feel guilty. She made her choice because she is brave. Because she cares. And you should never blame yourself for that."

Anna sniffled, shaking her head. "But..."

He cut her off gently. "No. You don’t have to worry. I know His Highness won’t allow her to be dismissed. He will protect her. Trust me."

Anna’s chest tightened. She wiped her tears again and whispered, "I don’t know why... but I feel bad watching the two of them. I just... I just hope they work things out."

Boris was quiet for a moment. Then he said softly, "So do I."

Meanwhile, in Ivan and Lydia’s carriage, the silence returned.

The wheels creaked. The horses trotted. The world passed outside the window.

But inside, not a single word was spoken.

Lydia sat stiffly, her gaze fixed on the passing trees. Her mind was blank and yet full at the same time. She could not stop thinking about the trial. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would stand before the senate, her fate placed in their hands.

Her stomach twisted painfully with every thought.

Ivan’s eyes drifted to her often, though she never noticed. He studied the curve of her cheek, the way her hands clenched in her lap, the shadow of worry on her face.

He knew what she was thinking. He knew she was afraid, though she would never say it aloud.

His thoughts burned. I’ll have to stop that trial. No matter what. I can’t let them take her away.

He clenched his fists silently.

The ride stretched on until, finally, the carriage slowed. The coach’s voice called out, "We’ve arrived."

Ivan blinked, lifting his gaze. Lydia’s head turned toward the window.

The tall gates of the capital loomed before them. The familiar walls, the sound of the city stirring, the banners fluttering in the wind.

Lydia’s chest tightened. Her hands shook slightly in her lap.

They had arrived.

The trial was no longer far away. It was here. Waiting.

Her stomach twisted so hard it felt as though it might tear her apart.

And in that quiet moment, as the carriage rolled through the gates, she realised—tomorrow everything might change.