The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 68: You Can Only Pick One

Lydia was seated in the carriage as it rode back to the palace. Tears kept falling from her eyes. They wouldn’t stop, no matter how tightly she shut them. Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat. Her breathing was shaky. Her chest rose and fell like something was breaking apart inside her.

But worse than the tears was her mind. It kept returning to Irina’s voice—quiet, steady, and full of terrifying truth. Again and again, those words echoed in her head.

"You need to understand something, Lydia," Irina had said. "Whether you act or stay silent... someone is going to bleed for it."

Lydia had looked at her, trembling. Irina’s eyes hadn’t flinched.

"You can betray Olga," she continued, her voice like a knife, "and risk her wrath—because that woman does not forget, and she does not forgive."

She paused. Her tone shifted slightly, gentler but still sharp.

"Or you can betray Ivan. And if he ever finds out... if he even begins to suspect what you’ve done—he may never look at you the same way again." Her lips had trembled just slightly before she added, "That’s if he lets you live."

Lydia had gasped at that. Her hands had started to shake. But Irina hadn’t stopped.

"There’s no easy path out of this, child," she said. "There’s no clean escape. You just have to choose... Who can you betray?"

Then came the part Lydia could not forget—no matter how hard she tried.

Irina’s voice had softened, like the calm before a storm.

"And if you truly believe that neither of them will spare you, then listen to me and run."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Run while you still have breath in your lungs. Run before the blood on your hands dries and no one remembers who you were before all of this."

"Because love won’t protect you."

She had leaned forward then, her eyes shining with something unreadable.

"And loyalty won’t save you either."

"Disappearing, Lydia... that might be the only thing that lets you live long enough to remember who you were."

Now, in the carriage, Lydia sat with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, like she was trying to hold herself together. But it wasn’t working.

Her tears came harder. She bent forward, gasping softly as the ache in her chest deepened. Her head was filled with noise. Her heart was caught in a war between guilt and fear and something even worse—hope.

What was she going to do? ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Should she tell Ivan the truth?

Would he even listen?

Would he forgive her?

Would he hate her?

Would he kill her?

The thought made her breath catch. Her fingers dug into the folds of her dress. She had never felt this helpless before.

Soon, the carriage reached the palace gates.

The wheels slowed and came to a soft stop.

Lydia quickly wiped her face with her hands, though it didn’t help much. Her cheeks were still wet, her eyes still swollen. She glanced at her reflection in the carriage window and tried to smile. It looked pitiful.

Still, she took a deep breath and stepped down from the carriage like nothing had happened.

Far away, Ivan was seated in his chambers by the large arched window. He had not moved in hours. His eyes were fixed on the courtyard.

He saw her.

Even from a distance, he could tell. The redness in her eyes. The way she walked with her head low. The way her arms hung by her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them.

He knew she had been crying.

His hand clenched against the windowpane. His jaw tightened.

He wanted to go to her.

But he didn’t move. He just sat there, frozen, watching her disappear into the palace.

Lydia walked through the halls like a ghost. The walls felt cold. The silence was louder than her thoughts.

She reached her chambers and shut the door behind her.

She leaned against it for a moment... and then slid to the floor.

She cried again.

This time she didn’t hold it back. She didn’t try to be quiet. She buried her face in her knees and let the sobs shake her whole body.

Time passed, but she didn’t move.

The sun had already begun to set, casting long shadows through the curtains. A soft orange glow filled the room.

Lydia lay curled on the floor, her dress wrinkled and her hair messy. She felt small. Tired. Her body ached from crying. Her throat was sore.

She wished she could vanish.

Suddenly, a soft knock came at the door.

Lydia startled. Her heart jumped. She quickly wiped her face and stumbled to her feet. She took a deep breath and opened the door slowly.

It was Leonid.

He stood there, hugging a book to his chest. His eyes were kind and wide.

"It’s time for dinner," he said gently. "I wanted to eat with you... if that’s okay. Nobody ever eats with me."

Lydia blinked, surprised.

Then she gave him a small smile and nodded. "I’d like that."

They walked together to the dining hall.

It was quiet. The long table felt too big with just two place settings. The servants moved silently, placing dishes and pouring water.

Leonid sat across from her, swinging his feet lightly under the table. He kept looking at her and smiling.

Lydia noticed and tilted her head, curious. "Why do you keep smiling at me like that?" she asked softly.

Leonid shrugged. "Because I like you."

She smiled gently. "Why do you like me?"

He leaned in a little. "Because you’re not like the others."

She raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He lowered his voice, as if it was a secret. "You’re not scared of my brother. Just like me. You don’t look at him like he’s a monster."

Lydia’s smile faded slowly.

Leonid looked serious now. "I keep telling everyone... brother’s not a monster. He’s not bad. He’s just different. But nobody listens to me. They all act like he’s something to be feared."

He glanced down at the table.

"You and I... we’re the only ones who really see him. The real him."

Lydia stared at her plate. Her heart was pounding again. She couldn’t speak. Not because she didn’t agree—but because she didn’t know how to respond without breaking down again.

Suddenly, the doors opened.

Ivan stepped into the room.

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