The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 58: So What If She Saw The Monster?
Chapter 58: So What If She Saw The Monster?
The news reached the Capital like wildfire. People whispered in the streets, gossiped in taverns, and even the palace walls could not keep the rumors out. Everyone was talking about it—about the grand duke, about the village head, about the murder. Voices rose in shock, fear, and judgment.
In the royal palace, the tension was already boiling.
"Your Majesty," Olga said as she stormed into the Emperor’s private chamber. Her face was flushed with frustration. "You have to do something about this."
Vladimir, seated behind a large wooden desk, looked up slowly from the documents he had been reading. His face was calm, but there was something dark in his eyes. "What is it now, Olga?"
She threw her arms up. "It’s becoming a habit of the grand duke! He keeps acting out—hurting people, doing as he pleases!"
Vladimir set his pen down. "Ivan must have had a reason."
"A reason?" Olga cut in sharply. Her voice trembled, a mix of disbelief and anger. "A reason to kill a commoner so brutally? You’re justifying that devil’s act. Just like you did years ago!"
That word—devil—made Vladimir’s jaw tighten. He slammed his hand on the desk. "Silence!"
Olga flinched.
"Watch your mouth, Olga," Vladimir said, his voice low but dangerous. "In case you’ve forgotten, Ivan is not just anybody. He is the grand duke. The Czar’s son. My son. The heir to the throne. Don’t you dare call him that name."
Olga scoffed, crossing her arms. Her voice was bitter now. "Too bad none of the kingdom thinks so. To them, your precious son is nothing but a monster. A monster born out of wedlock."
Vladimir didn’t argue. He said nothing more. Instead, he stood slowly and turned away from her.
"Leave my presence," he said, coldly.
Olga stared at him for a moment longer, her chest rising and falling with sharp breaths. Then she turned on her heels and walked away without another word.
---
Far from the palace, Ivan stood in his study, by the window. The same spot Nikolai used to stand, watching the sky. But Ivan wasn’t looking at the sky. His mind was somewhere else—yesterday. That moment. That one moment that changed everything.
The flashback came with force.
He had opened the door to his study and found the village head waiting, just like he’d instructed the servant earlier.
Ivan walked in, calm and composed. He said nothing at first. Just picked up a parchment and sat down, glancing over the document.
"You may sit," he said flatly.
But the man didn’t sit. He stood firm, arms folded.
"I don’t have time to sit," he replied. "I came to say what I have to say, then I’ll be on my way."
Ivan set the parchment aside and looked at him.
"Then speak."
The man took a breath. "I came to ask you to stop."
Ivan raised a brow. "Stop what?"
"Stop sending supplies to the villages during winter."
Ivan leaned back slightly, confused. "Isn’t that what you people want? Food? Wood? Medicine?"
"We want nothing from you," the man snapped. "We know you’re the one sending them. You act like a saint, hiding your name, pretending to be generous. But we know. We know who you are."
Ivan’s voice was cold. "And who am I?"
The man didn’t blink. "A devil in disguise."
Silence fell.
Ivan’s fingers curled around the armrest. "And who do you think you are to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do? I am the grand duke. The ruler of Svetlana. Not even the Czar tells me what to do."
The village head bowed slightly. "Forgive me, Your Highness. But I only speak for the people. I only do what’s best for them."
Ivan scoffed bitterly. "Best for them? If I hadn’t helped, they would’ve starved to death. I did what you should have done. I kept them alive."
"We don’t need your charity," the man said firmly. "Not from someone like you."
Ivan clenched his jaw. He stood slowly. "I would appreciate it if you left."
But the man didn’t stop.
"I haven’t forgotten what you did to my brother," he said. "You butchered him like an animal. Hung his body for all to see."
"Your brother was a traitor," Ivan replied through gritted teeth. "He helped Venograd’s army kill our people. I did my duty. Now, leave. I don’t have time to listen to this."
He turned away, ready to leave. But then—
"You think yourself a noble man," the village head muttered. "But you’re nothing but filth."
Ivan froze. "What did you say?" freeweɓnovel-cøm
The man stepped forward. "You may wear a crown, but you were born in dirt. A sin from the womb. Everyone knows your mother was no saint. She slept with her best friend’s husband. That’s how you came to be."
Ivan’s world went red.
The man turned away. "I’ll take my leave, Your Highness."
But Ivan couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. All he saw was that smug face. All he heard were those words. Filth. Sin. His mother—
He grabbed the vase near him and slammed it on the man’s head.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The vase shattered. Blood splattered. The man collapsed, but Ivan wasn’t done.
He picked up a sharp piece and stabbed him in the throat.
Only when the man stopped moving did Ivan stop. He looked down. The body. The blood. His hands—red.
And then—
"Ivan?"
He turned.
Lydia was standing at the door. Her face pale. Eyes wide. Frozen.
She saw everything.
"Stay back," she whispered, shaking.
He stepped forward.
She backed away. "Don’t come any closer!"
And then she fainted.
Ivan caught her before she hit the ground, but his hands were still stained.
He could have stopped. He should have. But he didn’t. All because the man insulted his mother. Not even him—his mother.
He buried his face in his hands.
---
Lydia woke with a jolt. Her breath was heavy, her chest rising and falling fast.
She looked around.
She was in her room.
Alone.
The room was quiet, but her heart pounded in her chest. Where was Ivan? He had left her.
And then—it all came back.
She remembered walking into Ivan’s study. She had wanted to talk to him. She had opened the door and saw the village head turning to leave. Ivan had been fuming.
Then, suddenly, he grabbed the vase and smashed it over the man’s head.
And just like that, her mind broke.
She wasn’t in the study anymore. She was a little girl again. Standing in the shadows. Watching.
Watching the scarred man kill her parents.
Her father’s head being smashed. Her mother’s throat being slit.
And then, Ivan trying to come near her. But she didn’t see Ivan.
She saw the scarred man.
That was why she panicked.
That was why she told him to stay away.
Now, lying in her bed, she realized it.
It wasn’t him.
But it felt like him.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
She wasn’t sure what scared her more—the past, or the man she had fallen in love with turning into someone from her nightmares.
But deep in her heart, she didn’t want to be scared of Ivan.
She wanted to understand him.
Even now.
Even after everything.
Because even devils have scars.
And she had seen his.
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