The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 43: Morning Scars And Silent Pains

The sun peeked through the curtains, its soft golden light spreading across the room. Lydia’s eyes fluttered open slowly. For a second, she panicked. Was he gone?

But then she turned her head and sighed with relief.

Ivan was there. Still lying beside her. Still breathing the same air.

He looked so calm. Peaceful. His dark lashes rested gently against his skin, his face soft without its usual cold expression. Lydia smiled quietly, her heart warming at the sight.

He looks so calm when he’s asleep, she whispered to herself.

She reached out gently and brushed her fingers through his hair, so careful it was almost like touching a dream.

But suddenly, his hand caught hers.

Softly. Not roughly.

He opened his eyes.

She gasped and quickly pulled her hand back. "I-I’m sorry," she stammered. "I just wanted to... to touch you. To see if you were really here. I... I used to wake up thinking you were next to me... but you were never there. I just needed to be sure I wasn’t dreaming."

Her voice trembled.

Her eyes began to glisten with tears she hadn’t meant to shed.

Ivan frowned slightly. "I didn’t even say anything. So why are you crying?"

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "I’m not sad," she whispered. "I’m happy. So happy. I’m just... glad this is real."

She lay back down beside him, placing her head on his shoulder. Her arms wrapped tightly around his body, as if to make sure he didn’t vanish.

"I want to wake up every morning like this," she said softly. "With you beside me. It feels so... nice."

Ivan didn’t say a word.

But he didn’t need to.

He closed his eyes and melted into her embrace, breathing her in like a man who hadn’t breathed in years.

Then her hand brushed against something rough. A scar. It was on his left arm. Her fingers paused and lingered there, gently running over the raised skin.

Her eyes locked on it.

"This scar," she whispered, tracing it slowly, "it looks old. When did you get it?"

As soon as she asked, she regretted it. Her mouth opened slightly. "Sorry," she added quickly. "That was a stupid question. You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have—"

"I was four," he said quietly.

She looked up at him.

"I got it when I was four. Still living with my mother," he continued, his eyes staring at the ceiling. "I had just woken up from sleep... I was hungry, really hungry. But she wasn’t home. I couldn’t find her anywhere. I got scared."

Lydia listened quietly, not daring to speak.

"I saw a cake," he said, almost like a child again. "It was on the top shelf. I wanted to reach it. I dragged a stool over and climbed it. But I slipped... knocked over a vase. It shattered."

His voice lowered.

"The glass cut my arm. There was blood everywhere. I screamed. I cried and cried. But no one came."

Lydia’s heart clenched. She wrapped her arms tightly around him again, burying her face into his chest as if to take the pain away.

"It must’ve been so painful for you," she whispered.

He shook his head slowly. "No. Not anymore."

She looked up, confused. "Why?"

His voice softened.

"Because now I remember. She didn’t leave me. She had just gone to fetch water. She heard me cry and ran home. She cried too... when she saw my arm."

He gave a small, sad chuckle. "She sat me down. Blew gently on the wound. Treated it while I ate the cake... it was the best moment of my life. I didn’t feel pain anymore. I just felt... loved."

Lydia’s lips quivered.

"You deserve to be loved," she said. "Why would you think you don’t?"

He went quiet.

His silence answered her.

She didn’t stop. "Everyone deserves love. Even you, Ivan. I don’t care about your past. I already love you."

Something inside him shifted. Those words—they were both a blessing and a curse.

A new fear took hold of his heart. What if she found out who he really was? The blood on his hands. The darkness in his past. The truth that could destroy everything.

Would she still care?

No.

She would hate him.

The very thought of Lydia hating him made his chest ache.

Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms tightly and kissed her forehead. He held her like she was the only light in his world.

They stayed like that for a long time, tangled in warmth beneath the blanket. Time passed. The morning sun rose higher.

Eventually, Ivan broke the silence.

"I should go."

Lydia clung tighter. "Why? What happened?"

"I have work to do," he said, stroking her hair. "We can’t stay in bed forever."

"I don’t want to let go," she mumbled into his chest.

He chuckled. "Let’s meet later. At noon. In the library."

"Promise?"

"Mhh," he said with a small smile, then kissed her one more time before getting up.

She watched him wear his shirt, button by button, before he turned and walked out of her chamber.

---

Hours Later — The Library

It was almost noon.

Lydia had been waiting in the library for hours.

The moment he had left her room, she had called her maids to help her bathe and dress. She barely ate her breakfast, too excited. She had rushed straight to the library and waited.

She had even dozed off a little, her head resting on the side of a book.

When she woke, she looked at the clock.

It was noon.

She stood up and stretched her arms.

Just then—the door opened.

"Ivan!" she gasped.

He had come.

She smiled brightly and ran straight to him. Without a word, their lips crashed together. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the floor.

They kissed hungrily, like they had been starving all morning.

Ivan walked forward and swept the books off the table with one arm. They scattered to the floor as he set her down on the table, still kissing her like a man possessed.

His lips moved to her neck, kissing, sucking softly, then to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

A soft moan escaped Lydia’s mouth.

He paused, his hands moving to the top layer of her dress.

She stared into his eyes and gave a small nod.

He pulled it down gently, revealing the soft fabric of her corset underneath. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her chest, his fingers skillfully working the ribbons of the corset loose.

She gasped as it fell apart. Her chest rose and fell quickly.

She helped remove his coat, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt natural, urgent.

His hands found her underwear beneath the skirts. He pulled them off slowly, savoring every second, letting his fingers trace the softness of her thighs.

He leaned in again, their lips brushing, but this time they didn’t kiss.

They just looked at each other.

Breathing each other in.

He laid her down gently across the table.

Then kissed her ankle.

Then her shin.

Then her knee.

Then her thighs.

And finally, in between.

His mouth was hot against her clit. He licked slowly at first, circling it, flicking it with his tongue, watching her writhe. Her moans echoed through the silent library, her hands gripping the edge of the table.

His tongue moved faster, wetter, deeper. He sucked on her clit softly, then harder. Her thighs tensed around his face. She moaned louder, gasping his name.

"Ivan—ahh... Ivan..."

He didn’t stop.

Her back arched as her body trembled under his mouth.

He gripped her hips to hold her in place, devouring her like she was the only thing that mattered.

And in that moment—she was.

---

Back at the Capital — The Palace

The grand halls of the palace echoed with quiet footsteps.

The blonde young woman walked calmly with her maid, Yelena, just behind her.

Yelena looked nervous. Her eyes darted from wall to wall.

But the woman? She was composed. Poised.

As they reached the throne room doors, a guard raised his hand.

"Only the lady," he said.

Yelena’s brows furrowed. "But—"

"It’s okay," the lady said calmly. "Wait for me here."

She walked inside alone.

Czar Vladimir was already seated.

He gave her a smile. "Lady Orlova," he greeted. "Thank you for coming."

She bowed politely. "Thank you for inviting me."

"I called for you because I’ve decided to make you the lady-in-waiting to the new Grand Duchess," Vladimir said.

Queen Olga sat beside him and nodded. "She knows nothing of palace duties. She needs guidance. Someone raised in Svetlana. Someone familiar with the Grand Duke."

Tatiana gave a small smile. "It’s an honor, Your Majesties. "

"Then go prepare," Vladimir said. "Your duty starts now."

She nodded and turned to leave.

As she stepped outside, Yelena immediately walked to her. But then a voice called out behind them.

"It’s been years, hasn’t it, Lady Orlova?" Olga said with a sly smile. "How many? Eight? Since that... incident?"

Tatiana froze.

Olga walked closer. "You look good. Especially for a woman who got widowed on the night of her wedding. I heard what happened. Terrible. What even family can do."

She smiled sweetly.

"It’s good to see you again. You look beautiful. Just like I remember."

Tatiana’s hands clenched into fists.

Her eyes grew glassy.

As Olga disappeared down the hallway, Tatiana whispered under her breath.

"That evil witch. I can’t wait for the day you suffer."

Her jaw tightened.

"You’re worse than the devil."

Follow current novels on (f)reew𝒆bnovel