The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 73: Knocking On The Devil’s Door

The Andreyevna House

Inside the house, the morning had only just begun.

Daria was in the dining room, carefully setting the table for breakfast. She placed the plates down one by one, humming softly to herself. Everything had to be perfect — just the way Elena liked it. freewēbnoveℓ.com

In the sitting room, Galina was dusting the furniture. She moved quietly, cleaning the wooden armchairs and wiping the table with a soft cloth. The house was quiet except for the sounds of their soft footsteps and the ticking of the old wall clock.

Then came a knock.

A gentle, firm knock at the front door.

Galina frowned, surprised. They weren’t expecting anyone, not this early.

She dropped her cloth on the table and walked to the door. As she opened it, her eyes widened with disbelief.

Lydia stood there, dressed in a thick winter coat, her cheeks pink from the cold. Her hair was a little wind-blown, and her eyes looked a bit tired — but she was smiling.

"Galina," Lydia said softly.

Galina didn’t speak. For a second, she just stared — like her eyes were lying to her.

Then she gasped. "Oh my God... my sweetheart!"

She threw her arms around Lydia, pulling her into a tight hug.

"You’re here! You’re really here!" she cried. Her voice shook with emotion.

From the dining room, Daria’s voice called out, "Galina, what is it? Why are you shouting?"

Galina turned her head, still holding Lydia. "Come here, quick!"

Daria rushed into the sitting room, looking worried. "What’s wrong—?"

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw Lydia standing there.

"My lady!" she cried.

She ran forward and hugged her tightly. "You’re here. You’re really here."

Lydia laughed, a little breathless from the sudden affection. "Yes... I’m here."

All the noise brought Elena in from the hallway. She paused for a second, confused, then her eyes lit up.

"Lydia!"

She rushed forward, her arms already open. Lydia barely had time to breathe before she was wrapped in Elena’s embrace.

"Pyotr! Mikhail! Anya!" Elena shouted behind her. "Come quick! Lydia’s here!"

Within seconds, the house came alive. Doors opened. Footsteps ran down the stairs. The hallway filled with voices and laughter.

Mikhail was the first to reach her, followed by Anya, and then Pyotr. They all shouted her name and took turns hugging her, holding onto her like she might disappear again if they let go.

"It’s only been two months," Elena said with tears in her eyes, "but it’s felt like years."

"The house was so empty without you," Anya added.

"We missed you so much," Galina whispered, brushing Lydia’s hair behind her ear like she used to when Lydia was a child.

Lydia stood in the middle of them all, her arms full of love, her heart full of warmth. It was overwhelming. The comfort, the welcome, the way they all made her feel like she still belonged.

In the corner of the room, Ivan sat quietly on a wooden chair. He watched everything silently.

He didn’t know what to do with himself.

He felt out of place. Like a stranger. No one was ignoring him. They just didn’t know what to say. And truthfully, neither did he.

He folded his hands in his lap and kept his eyes down.

Lydia turned after a while, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"What about Uncle?" she asked.

Elena looked up. "Father went to the docks," she said. "He had to check on something for the ships. He should be back by evening."

Galina smiled, trying to ease the emotion in the room. "Breakfast is ready," she said. "We should all eat together."

She turned toward Ivan, about to ask politely if he would join them, but before she could speak, Ivan nodded.

"There’s no problem," he said calmly. "It’s not like we’re in a rush."

Everyone moved toward the dining room, the family still clinging to Lydia’s arms. Ivan followed behind, quietly.

The breakfast table was already set, warm food laid out neatly. Daria added another set of plates for Ivan and Lydia.

They all sat down, laughter already bubbling up again.

Mikhail started talking about school.

"There’s a new boy in my class," he said between bites of bread. "He said he could beat everyone at swordplay. Guess what? He couldn’t even hold the wooden blade properly."

Everyone laughed. Even Elena shook her head.

"Did you fight him?" Anya asked, amused.

"Of course not," Mikhail said, lifting his chin proudly. "I just told him the best swordfighter in this family is Lydia."

The table broke into more laughter.

Lydia smiled, her cheeks warm. "I don’t think that’s true anymore," she said shyly.

As everyone chatted and laughed, Ivan remained silent.

He wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... out of place.

This wasn’t a palace. There were no rules here, no careful manners, no quiet stares or fake smiles. The Andreyevna family was loud. Joyful. Close.

They interrupted each other. They teased. They passed food around the table without asking permission. Everything felt strange — but strangely warm.

He kept stealing glances at Lydia.

She was laughing.

Truly laughing. Her face lit up like the morning sun. He had never seen her smile this way. Not once in the palace. Not with him.

And for a moment, that made him happy.

But then came the ache. The kind that settles deep in your chest. She looked so alive here. So free.

Maybe she didn’t smile with him... because she couldn’t.

Maybe he was the one keeping her caged.

After breakfast, Pyotr clung to Ivan’s sleeve.

"Your Highness," he said eagerly, "have you ever seen the ocean?"

Ivan blinked. "Not really."

"You have to see it!" Pyotr said, his eyes wide. "It’s beautiful. It moves and makes this sound, like it’s breathing. Don’t worry. Next time you visit, I’ll take you."

Ivan nodded with a soft smile. "Alright. I’ll look forward to it."

Lydia stood by the doorway, watching them from afar. She tilted her head slightly, confused.

They looked close.

She had never seen Pyotr so attached to anyone so quickly.

Before she could think further, Elena came to stand beside her, smiling knowingly.

"They seem close, don’t they?" she said softly. "Pyotr really likes him."

Lydia nodded slowly, still watching.

"Even the last time he visited, Pyotr stuck to him like glue," Elena added.

Lydia turned to her sharply. "The last time?"

Elena nodded. "Yes. When he came to the capital. We even gave him that box to give you."

Lydia’s eyes widened. "Wait... he was the one who brought it?"

Elena looked confused. "Yes. We wanted to write to you, but Father wouldn’t allow it. So we gave the box to His Highness. We told him to give it to you."

Lydia froze.

She felt like something inside her chest cracked a little.

She whispered, "I didn’t know. Really. I didn’t know."

Her eyes slowly drifted back to Ivan, still sitting with Pyotr.

He never told her.

He never mentioned he had visited.

He never said anything about the box.

She stared at him for a long moment, her thoughts swirling.

Then suddenly—

The door burst open with force.

Everyone turned quickly.

It was Alexander.

He stood in the doorway, breathing hard, his face red with anger. His coat was still dusted with snow, and his eyes burned with fury as they locked on Lydia.

The room fell silent.

No one moved.

Lydia’s heart dropped into her stomach.

Ivan slowly stood from his chair.

And Alexander stepped forward.

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