The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 46: The Boy In The Mask

Twelve years ago

Tatiana was only twelve years old, a young girl with bright blonde hair, curious eyes, and a heart full of excitement. She sat beside her father, Lord Orlova, inside a grand carriage making its way to the Grand Duke’s palace. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her smile wide with anticipation. It was her first time visiting such a place, and she could hardly wait to see what it looked like.

"Behave yourself," her father said coldly, not even sparing her a glance. "Especially around the grand duchess."

Tatiana quickly nodded, trying to contain her excitement. "Yes, Father," she said softly.

As the carriage pulled to a stop, her eyes grew even wider. The palace was like something out of a fairytale. Grand and tall, with golden domes that sparkled under the sun, and walls so white they looked like snow. The gardens were trimmed to perfection, dotted with fountains that sang softly in the summer breeze. As they stepped out and began walking through the palace halls, she couldn’t stop herself from turning her head in every direction, admiring the paintings, the sculptures, the chandeliers. Even the air smelled different—like wax, roses, and something old and expensive. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

On the way to the grand duchess’s chambers, something caught her eye. A boy around her age stood silently by the stairs. He wore a dark outfit and a mask that covered most of his face. He didn’t say a word. He just stood there, watching.

"Father," she whispered, tugging his sleeve. "Who is that boy?"

Lord Orlova didn’t look pleased. "That is the prince. The Grand Duke’s son. Don’t be curious about him. He may be your age, but he is dangerous. He is a monster."

Tatiana blinked, confused. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a boy. Just a boy.

They arrived at a large chamber where a young Grand Duchess Olga waited. She was in her thirties then, sitting upright with a commanding presence. Her gown shimmered like moonlight, and her golden hair was coiled into an elegant braid, pinned with small sapphire stones. Her gaze fell on Tatiana, who suddenly felt small and shy.

"Who is the girl?" Olga asked, her voice firm but calm.

"My daughter, Your Grace," Lord Orlova replied.

Olga studied her for a moment, then smiled and reached out. "Come closer, child."

Tatiana stepped forward slowly. The grand duchess gently stroked her hair and smiled. "What a beautiful girl," she said. She opened a small box of jewelry that Lord Orlova had brought and pulled out a delicate ring. "Here. A gift for you. Take this and go to the orchard. There are swans by the pond. Go watch them while I talk to your father."

Tatiana smiled brightly and nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace."

She ran off happily, clutching the ring tightly. The orchard was just as beautiful as the grand duchess said. The air was fresh, and the pond shimmered like silver under the sunlight. Butterflies danced above the grass, and birds chirped softly in the trees. She laughed as she watched the swans swim gracefully across the water. It felt like a dream.

Then she saw him again.

The boy in the mask. He was walking out of the palace, heading toward the forest that bordered the estate.

Her curiosity got the better of her. Quietly, she followed him.

He didn’t seem to notice her. He walked deeper and deeper into the forest. She tried to keep her distance, careful not to step on twigs or dry leaves. The branches above swayed gently, casting shifting shadows over the path.

But suddenly, he was gone.

She looked around, trying to find him again. The trees now looked unfamiliar. The path she had followed disappeared.

Panic hit her.

"Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone there?"

No answer.

She tried retracing her steps, but everything looked the same. Then, she heard it. A low growl.

She turned around slowly. A large wolf stood a few feet away, teeth bared. Her heart pounded. She ran, but the forest floor was uneven. She slipped down a tiny slope and hit the ground hard.

The wolf was coming for her.

She screamed.

Before it could reach her, someone leapt between them.

It was the masked boy.

He fought the wolf with everything he had. The struggle was fierce. The boy wasn’t strong yet. He got scratched, bitten, and his arm bled, but he didn’t stop. At last, he plunged a sharp branch into the wolf’s side. The beast let out a loud yelp and collapsed.

He fell to his knees, panting.

His mask had fallen off.

Tatiana stared at him. He wasn’t a monster. He was just a boy, just like her. His face was pale, his eyes tired, but he looked human. He looked afraid.

"You saved me," she whispered.

He didn’t say anything.

He just looked away.

Four years later

Ivan was sixteen now. That night—that dreadful night—everything changed.

He had killed everyone in the palace. Every servant, every guard. Blood covered him. His eyes were empty, his body trembling.

He sat by the lake, knees to his chest, arms wrapped around himself. The night was cold, but the fear and guilt inside him were colder. freёnovelkiss.com

"I didn’t mean to," he kept saying. "I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t mean to."

Tatiana was sixteen too. She found him there, covered in blood, looking like a broken doll. She didn’t run. She didn’t scream. She just walked up to him and knelt beside him.

She hugged him tightly.

"It’s okay," she whispered. "I’m here. Everything will be okay."

His body shook as he cried into her shoulder.

"I couldn’t control myself. I didn’t want to do it."

"I know," she said. "I know."

But then they heard footsteps.

Her father.

"Tatiana!" he roared. He grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her away. "Didn’t I warn you to stay away from this monster?"

"He’s not a monster!" she shouted. "He’s my friend!"

"You’ll never see him again! I’ll make sure of it!"

She turned her head as her father dragged her away. "Don’t worry, Ivan! I’ll find a way to talk to you! We’ll meet again!"

Ivan said nothing. He just covered his face and rocked back and forth. Her voice was the last warm thing he heard that night.

Her father shoved her into the carriage.

"No more false hope," he said sternly. "Tomorrow, you leave for Venograd. You will finish your education there and get married. You will not return to Zolotaria ever again."

Now

The dining room was silent for a moment. Tatiana stood, her eyes filled with emotion. Ivan stood too, beside Lydia.

"Your Highness," Tatiana said softly, a small smile forming on her lips. "It’s been eight years. How have you been? I missed you. I tried to write to you, but I couldn’t."

Ivan didn’t respond to her words. His face was calm, but his eyes were distant.

"What are you doing here, Tatiana?" he asked, his voice low.

She wiped the small tears in her eyes and smiled again. "Oh, sorry, where are my manners? I came because I was just appointed by His Majesty as the lady-in-waiting for the Grand Duchess."

She turned to Lydia. "You’re the Grand Duchess, aren’t you?"

Lydia, still confused, nodded slowly. "Yes."

Tatiana stepped closer and curtsied. "I’m Tatiana. It’s an honour to serve you." Then she whispered loudly to herself, "She’s very pretty."

Ivan looked at her for a moment, then said, "I thought a lady-in-waiting is supposed to be unmarried. Last I heard, you were married."

Tatiana gave a small shrug. "It must have been long since you heard about me. That was six years ago. I’m a widow now. Unfortunately, my husband died on our wedding night."

He said nothing.

"Your father was against you being near me," Ivan said. "Wouldn’t he be furious about this?"

Tatiana walked to the dining table and sat down. "How would he? He’s dead." She smirked slightly. "He can’t do anything anymore."

The room fell quiet again.

And just for a moment, the memories of the forest, the lake, and that terrible night hung in the air between them like ghosts.

Olga sat gracefully at a small wooden table, her eyes fixed on the chessboard in front of her. Across from her sat her lady-in-waiting, a gentle young woman who had been carefully thinking through her every move. The room was quiet, except for the soft clack of chess pieces being placed. Olga moved her final piece with a calm smile and softly said, "Checkmate."

The lady-in-waiting blinked, stunned. "Your Majesty, how did you manage to win so quickly? I thought I had you cornered."

Olga leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful but proud. "Because the best moves are the ones no one expects," she said. "The ones that seem quiet, harmless—but are carefully planned from the start. That’s how real victories are made."

Her words hung in the air like a quiet warning. It wasn’t just a game. Olga never moved without purpose—even in chess.

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