The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 64: Pretty Little Lie

Olga stood up slowly and wiped her tears away with her hands. Her hands trembled a little, but she took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. Her face, just moments ago full of sadness, now carried a different expression—a careful, calculating calm. Her lips twitched slightly, almost forming a smile, but she quickly pushed it away. Just then, footsteps echoed from outside the hall.

Lydia walked in.

She looked completely lost. Her eyes were wide and sad, her steps slow. She kept turning her head, looking around the room as though searching for something—or someone.

Someone who wasn’t there.

Ivan.

The moment Olga saw her, she smirked. Her eyes glimmered for a second with something unreadable. But when Lydia looked in her direction, Olga quickly changed her face, pretending to be sad and worried.

"Lydia," she called out gently.

Lydia bowed politely. "Your Majesty," she whispered. Her voice cracked.

She began to walk past Olga, clearly wanting to be alone, but Olga raised a hand.

"Can we talk?" Olga said softly. "Just for a little while."

Lydia hesitated, then nodded.

They were seated together in one of the palace lounges. The room was warm and filled with soft cushions and golden lamps, but Lydia felt nothing but cold. Her heart was too heavy.

Olga gave a small smile, folding her hands neatly. "You must be tired after such a long journey," she began.

Lydia said nothing.

Then Olga leaned forward a bit, her voice still gentle. "Do you remember our agreement, Lydia?"

Lydia froze. Her body stiffened, and her eyes widened. She had almost forgotten about that horrible deal—how could she forget? The agreement to keep her from marrying Count Viktor in return for marrying Ivan and spying on him. For six months. Just six months to find his weaknesses and report back.

Her heart sank. Guilt poured into her chest like ice water.

Tears filled her eyes.

"I don’t want to do this," she whispered. Then louder, sobbing, she knelt in front of Olga. "Please... please, I don’t want to hurt him. I can’t spy on him. I love him. I love Ivan."

Her voice broke into pieces.

Olga looked at her with what seemed like concern. She reached down and gently pulled Lydia up by her arms.

"No, no, dear child," Olga whispered, brushing Lydia’s cheeks with her thumbs. "You misunderstood me. I’m not asking you to hurt him. I would never want that."

Lydia looked into her eyes, confused.

Olga continued, her voice soft like a lullaby. "I love him too, Lydia. So much, that I can’t bear to see him destroyed."

Lydia blinked. "What... what do you mean?"

Olga sighed and looked away, like she was remembering something painful. "Ivan has always been... unstable. Since he was a child. He carries so much darkness inside him. Pain, anger... it’s eating him up."

She turned back to Lydia, her eyes shimmering with false sadness.

"He’s hurt people before, Lydia. Even his own brother. Not just once. He tried to kill him more than once. That kind of pain doesn’t just go away."

Lydia shook her head slowly. "No... Ivan would never..."

"You fainted, Lydia. When you saw him kill the village head," Olga said, her voice suddenly firmer. "That’s your soul warning you. Something is wrong. You’re not safe."

Lydia lowered her head. Tears were falling again. Everything felt like a storm. Her thoughts, her feelings... all mixed up.

Olga softened her voice again. "I don’t want him hurt. I swear. I just want him taken away from power. For his own good. Before he ends up doing something worse."

She placed a gentle hand over Lydia’s. "Help me, Lydia. Please. Help me protect him. I promised Marina, his mother, that I would watch over him. That I would never let him fall too deep."

Lydia looked up at her. "You promised her?"

"With my life," Olga whispered, tears filling her eyes now. But whether they were real or not, no one could say. She looked like a mother grieving over her son, a woman who only wanted peace.

"You love him," Olga said softly. "I can see it in your eyes. So do I. I only want him to be happy."

She cupped Lydia’s face gently. "Don’t you want that too?" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

Lydia couldn’t speak. Her heart was torn. She remembered the way Ivan looked at her. The way his voice shook when he talked to Vladimir. The way his eyes were glassy with tears. So much pain in him.

Was Olga telling the truth?

Or was this all just another trap?

"You seem tired, my dear," Olga said kindly. She wiped away a tear from Lydia’s cheek. "Why don’t you rest for a while? We can talk again tomorrow."

She caressed Lydia’s face one more time, her touch so soft it almost felt real. Almost.

Lydia nodded slowly, her heart aching.

---

Outside, snow was falling softly over the palace grounds.

In the training field where soldiers usually practiced, Ivan stood alone. His black coat was wet with snow, but he didn’t seem to care. He swung his sword again and again, his breath rising like smoke in the cold air.

The sword moved fast. His arms were strong, but his face looked broken. His eyes were red, not just from the wind but from pain.

He needed to clear his mind. He needed to forget everything. His father’s words. The past. Everything.

He swung the sword again, harder this time. Then again.

From a distance, someone was watching.

Leonid stood under a roof nearby, hidden partly in the shadows. His arms were folded tightly, and his eyes didn’t leave Ivan for a second.

He whispered to himself.

"He’s not a monster... Brother isn’t a monster. He’s not like what they say. He’s good. He’s good."

His voice was low, full of sadness.

"They don’t see it. But I do. He’s not a monster..."

Ivan kept swinging.

The snow kept falling.

---

Far from the palace, the gates of the Andreyevna estate creaked open.

A horse galloped in, its hooves loud against the stone path.

The man riding it was tall and broad, with a long coat that blew in the wind. His face was marked with a deep scar across his cheek. His eyes were dark and burning with rage.

This was General Ruslan Zaitsev of the Eastern Venograd Army.

He climbed off his horse and walked toward the house, each step heavy. His fists were clenched. His jaw tight.

His heart burned with anger.

And he had come to let it all out.

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m fr𝒆ewebnove(l).com