Chapter 217: Lies Hidden Beneath
The Andreyevna estate was silent that night. The spring air outside was cool and gentle, carrying with it the smell of damp soil and faint blossoms. But inside, the silence was heavy, thick, and suffocating.
In his study, Alexander sat at his desk. His elbows rested on the dark wood, his fingers lightly touching the edge of the parchment sheets spread before him. They were filled with reports, letters, and documents he was supposed to sign. Yet not a single word on them had been read. His eyes were fixed on the papers, but his mind was far away, drifting into places he did not want to go.
The candle before him burned low, casting long shadows on the walls. His face looked older in that dim light, not only from age but from the weight of secrets, guilt, and fear. He rubbed his temple with his hand but found no peace.
A knock came at the door. Soft, hesitant. He did not look up.
"Papa," a familiar voice called gently. It was Elena.
He lifted his eyes slowly, as though it took all his strength. She stood at the doorway, holding the doorframe, her figure slim against the flicker of the hall lamps.
"Dinner is set," she said softly. "Are you not coming? Mikhail and Pyotr said they wanted to tell you about their studies. Anya says she will return to her husband’s house after dinner."
Alexander leaned back in his chair and let out a tired breath. His voice was low when he answered.
"I will eat later. I am busy."
Elena stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She looked at her father with worried eyes. For a moment she seemed like a little girl again, seeing him weighed down by burdens too heavy for him to carry.
She turned her eyes to the table. The documents were untouched, scattered like fallen leaves. Not a single page had been opened. She sighed.
"Papa," she said quietly, "you are not even reading the documents."
He did not reply. His silence was as heavy as the room itself.
Elena hesitated, then took a few steps closer to him. Her hands were clasped in front of her, twisting nervously. Her voice shook slightly when she spoke again.
"It is about Lydia, isn’t it?"
Alexander’s eyes flickered, but he gave no answer. He did not deny it, and that silence was enough.
Elena pressed her lips together. She had suspected this for a long time. Tonight, she could no longer keep it inside.
"If you are worried about her," she said carefully, "then tell her the truth."
Alexander’s head lifted sharply. His brows drew together. "What truth?" he asked, trying to sound firm.
Elena’s heart beat faster. She had promised herself she would say it, yet now that the words were near her lips, she felt fear. But she forced herself to speak.
"That you are the reason His Highness divorced her in the first place."
The room froze in silence. The candle flickered, almost as if it too was shaken.
Alexander’s eyes widened. His face went pale. He straightened in his chair, startled but trying desperately to control himself. His voice came out rough, almost broken.
"What nonsense are you speaking, Elena?"
She did not look away. She could see the tremor in his hand, the way his eyes avoided hers. And in that moment, she knew she had struck the truth.
"I know, Papa," she said, her voice steadier now. "I know what you did. Your deal with the Venograd army. That you helped them sneak weapons and spies into our lands. I overheard you. I overheard you talking with that Venograd general."
Alexander’s body went cold. He stared at her, his lips parting but no words coming out. Finally, he spoke, his voice trembling.
"How long have you known?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "For a long time," she whispered.
"Why did you not say anything?" His voice cracked.
She shook her head, tears falling. "Because I knew you were being threatened. That you were forced. You did it to protect us. To protect all of us, including Lydia. That is why I kept it to myself. I thought if I stayed quiet, it would pass, that we could be safe."
Her voice broke, but she pressed on. "But Papa, I need to know. Does this have something to do with His Highness casting Lydia aside? Because he knows, doesn’t he? He knows the truth. And he divorced her only to protect her."
Alexander froze in his chair. His chest tightened so strongly that he struggled to breathe. His face turned pale, and for a long moment he could not even move.
"Papa," Elena begged, her voice trembling, "please tell me. Am I right? Did he do it to protect her from Her Majesty?"
His eyes lifted to hers, and in them was shame, fear, and sorrow. His lips parted, but no words came. She waited, desperate.
At last, Alexander whispered, his voice hoarse, "What are you talking about?"
Elena took a deep breath, wiping her tears, but she stood her ground.
"I overheard what Her Majesty said earlier today," she confessed. "She knows. Does she not? That is the only explanation that makes sense. Lydia’s pain, His Highness’s silence, your guilt. It all comes back to this. It all connects."
Alexander shut his eyes. He could no longer deny it. His hands trembled on the desk. Slowly, heavily, he gave a small nod.
Elena’s breath hitched. Her lips parted in shock even though she had known. To see him admit it, to see the truth break from him like that, made her whole body ache.
Alexander lowered his face into his hands. His voice was raw, barely more than a whisper. "I am sorry."
Elena’s tears fell harder. "Then it is true," she whispered. "He sacrificed everything to protect her, and she will never know. She will hate him forever, Papa. She will never forgive him, because she will never know why."
Alexander lifted his head slowly, his face wet with shame. His voice broke as he answered.
"She cannot know, Elena. She must not. The moment she learns the truth, Her Majesty will expose it. She will drag it out, and all of us will be executed. Lydia, you, Mikhail, Pyotr, Anya. All of you. I cannot risk that."
Elena sobbed. Her shoulders shook, her hands covering her mouth. Her heart ached for Lydia, for Ivan, and for her father who had been carrying this unbearable weight.
"So she will keep hating him," she whispered, her voice broken. "She will keep believing he ruined her, that he abandoned her, when all this time he was protecting her. She will never know the truth, never know his love."
Alexander could not speak. His throat tightened until no sound could escape. The only thing he felt was a crushing, suffocating guilt.
He turned his face away, but his shoulders shook as silent tears escaped him. For years he had carried this sin. For years he had hidden the truth from his daughter, and now it was destroying her life.
But there was nothing he could do. Nothing but sit in that heavy silence, drowning in guilt, while his daughter wept before him.