The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 44: The Devil’s Tale

Lydia and Ivan were still in the library. They were both half clothed, wrapped in each other’s warmth. She sat on his lap, her bare legs curled gently over his. His strong arms wrapped around her, and his fingers softly stroked her hair. Everything about the moment felt peaceful. Safe.

Lydia held a book in her hands, flipping through the pages slowly. Her lips parted slightly as she read, her focus deep in the story. Ivan watched her with a quiet smile, his heart full.

"You must really love reading," he said quietly, breaking the silence. "You’re always with a book."

She nodded slowly. "Hmm." Then she looked up at him, her eyes soft. "Reading makes me happy. When you read a story, it’s like you enter another world. A world where everything feels different. Safer. Warmer."

She turned her body slightly toward him, placing his hand on her chest gently. Her voice was calm but full of meaning. "It makes my heart beat faster. Just like when I’m with you."

Ivan stared at her, saying nothing at first. Then he leaned forward, gently kissed her hand, and whispered, "I’m glad."

"What about you?" she asked curiously. "Do you love reading?"

He nodded. "Yes. But not as much as you." He leaned in and kissed her neck softly.

She giggled at the ticklish sensation. "What’s your favourite book then?"

He paused for a moment, then smiled. "The Sailor’s Final Voyage."

Her eyes lit up in surprise. "Mine too! I love it So much! Elias was brave, smart and strong. Plus he travelled round the world in his ship. That reminded me about my parents." she said excitedly. "Why is it your favourite?"

Ivan leaned back a little, still holding her close. "Because the main character, Elias, had peace. Even though he didn’t find the treasure he was searching for, he got to return home. He reunited with his family. He died of sickness, but he wasn’t alone. He found his real treasure in the end."

Lydia blinked, her lips parted in awe. "I never thought of it like that." She tilted her head. "To me, it was always a sad ending. He didn’t find the treasure. He died before he could achieve what he spent his whole life searching for."

Ivan brushed his fingers against her cheek. "But sometimes, peace is better than a dream."

Lydia smiled softly. "That sounds so beautiful now. It doesn’t feel like a sad story anymore."

She looked up at him again. "I want you to read my favourite stories to me."

"You do?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I want to hear them from your voice. I want to understand them the way you do."

He chuckled gently. "Do you want me to read one now?"

She kissed him on the lips, laughing lightly. "Later."

He kissed her back with a soft smile, and soon, their kisses deepened. They held each other close, completely lost in their moment.

---

Back in the capital, Tatiana sat quietly in the carriage that moved slowly out of the palace gates, heading toward Svetlana. The stars were hidden by dark clouds, and the cold wind blew through the open forest road.

Tears slid from her eyes. She tried to stop them, but she couldn’t. Her chest hurt, and her throat felt tight. No matter how hard she tried to hold it in, the tears kept falling.

All she could see in her mind was the night of her wedding. The moment her hands were covered in blood. The horror in her mother’s eyes. The screams. The pain.

She sobbed quietly, holding her hands together as if trying to forget the feel of that night.

Yelena sat beside her, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Don’t listen to what Her Majesty said," she whispered. "Everyone knows she’s a witch. She only speaks poison."

Tatiana wiped her eyes with her sleeve and gave a weak nod. "You’re right. I shouldn’t think about her words."

Yelena held her hand. "We’re going to Svetlana now. You won’t have to see her awful face anymore."

Tatiana looked out the window. She nodded again, her voice softer now. "Yes. I’ll finally be away from her."

---

Night fell in Svetlana.

In Lydia’s chamber, she and Ivan laid together in bed under the soft covers. A candle burned gently on the table beside them. Ivan held one of Lydia’s books and read aloud to her.

"It’s a poem about a blind man," Lydia explained, snuggling against his chest.

Ivan looked at her with a small smile. "He isn’t really blind, you know."

Lydia looked confused. "He’s not?"

"No," Ivan said softly. "He’s blind to the love around him. That’s the meaning. He doesn’t see how loved he is."

She pouted. "It’s not my fault. You’re smarter than me."

He chuckled, seeing the little mischief in her eyes. He could tell she understood perfectly well.

So, he decided to tease her. He deliberately translated one line incorrectly.

She frowned. "That’s not what it says!"

Ivan laughed, raising a brow. "I knew it."

"Knew what?" she asked, pretending not to understand.

"You’re only pretending not to understand just to get me to read for you, aren’t you?"

She smiled shyly and nodded. "Hmm. I just like the sound of your voice. The poem sounds better when you read it."

Ivan stared at her for a moment, his chest full of quiet joy. He put the book aside. "That’s enough reading for today," he whispered.

He leaned in and kissed her. She returned the kiss softly, then kissed his neck.

He kissed her forehead, then her eyes, then her nose, her chin, her cheeks, her neck—and finally, her chest. Every kiss was gentle and full of love.

---

Hours passed.

Lydia had fallen asleep in his arms. Her breathing was soft, and her body was warm next to his. Ivan lay awake beside her, his fingers gently running through her hair. He traced the side of her face slowly, as if memorizing every little detail.

She didn’t stir.

After a while, Ivan quietly moved. He stood up, careful not to wake her. He put on his clothes silently, looked at her one last time, and then left the room.

The door closed quietly behind him.

Lydia’s eyes opened slowly.

She blinked at the empty space beside her. The sheets were still warm, but Ivan was no longer there.

She sat up slowly and walked to the window.

Outside, she could hear the distant sound of his horse. Her heart raced.

She peeked through the curtains and saw him leaving the palace grounds. It was already midnight. Where was he going at this hour?

Her thoughts raced. She tried to understand. But her body was tired, and soon, without meaning to, she fell back asleep.

---

The morning sun peeked through the window.

Lydia opened her eyes slowly. She turned her head and saw him lying beside her, sleeping peacefully.

It was as if nothing had happened the night before.

She stared at him silently, questions rising in her heart. But for now, she said nothing.

She only watched him sleep, listening to the calm rhythm of his breathing, her heart torn between curiosity and the fear of finding out something she didn’t want to know.

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