Chapter 220: The Lies Of The Past
Three years ago.
Svetlana.
The night was quiet, almost too quiet after the chaos of the previous day. Lydia had returned, exhausted and shaken, after Ruslan had kidnapped her. The palace was finally calm, but the air still carried the tension of what had almost happened. Shadows from the torches danced along the walls, stretching long fingers across the floors and ceilings.
Alexander walked through the dimly lit halls, his mind a storm of thoughts. He was still trying to process everything that had happened. His heart pounded, and his steps were heavier than usual, like each one carried the weight of all the guilt and fear he had felt for years.
As he turned a corner, he ran directly into Olga. She was standing there, her posture straight, her black hair falling like a curtain over her shoulders. She looked at him with an expression that was soft on the surface but carried something dangerous beneath.
Alexander immediately bowed low, keeping his respect. "Your majesty," he said, his voice steady despite the unease curling in his chest.
Olga tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a smile that did not reach her eyes. "It is such a relief that she is safe," she said softly. "Truly unexpected, isn’t it? One moment we were celebrating... and the next, we could have been mourning. One happy celebration could have ended in tragedy. But thank the heavens, none of that happened. Thank God that she is fine."
Alexander nodded, though he felt the strangeness in her tone prick at him like a hidden thorn. He said carefully, "Thank you for your concern over my niece, your majesty."
Olga’s eyes glinted as she continued, her voice lowering just enough to make it sound intimate, as if sharing a secret. "I am truly concerned about that child. Such a poor thing, is she not? She lost her parents at such a young age. I remember the news of their deaths. Murdered by bandits. Such strange circumstances... they didn’t steal anything. They only killed her parents and left her alive. It seemed like payback, or a threat, who knows."
Alexander shifted uncomfortably, a chill running down his spine. He had known Olga’s words could be laced with danger, but tonight there was something sharper in them.
Olga sighed dramatically, as though reminiscing. "But thankfully, you took her in. Even though you took everything that was hers... you still took her. You even took over the family business almost immediately. Almost like you were hiding something."
Alexander swallowed hard. "Your majesty... what are you implying?" he asked, his voice careful but tense.
Olga shook her head gently, letting her black hair sway. "Nothing, really," she said, her tone deceptively light. "I am simply concerned for my daughter-in-law. That poor girl had to marry the Grand Duke just to gain freedom. It would be dreadful if anyone were hiding anything that could make her suffer more. But of course, you did nothing treacherous. There is no need to worry. Nothing at all."
She turned, walking away slowly, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. As she left, her mind was sharp with calculation. That ought to do it, she thought. He will help me destroy that boy once and for all.
Alexander remained frozen where he stood, trembling despite himself. His mind raced as he watched her leave. He knew something was wrong. There was a weight behind her words, a threat he couldn’t quite place, a knowledge he couldn’t understand. But how could she know anything?
Ruslan was dead. He had burned every single piece of evidence, every document tying them to the Venograd army, making sure no one could find it. Every last page... except.
Alexander’s chest tightened as a thought struck him. One ledger had been incomplete. A single page had been missing when he thought he destroyed everything. At the time, he hadn’t thought it mattered. Maybe Ruslan had taken it with him. Maybe Ruslan had given it to the queen before his death.
The possibility made Alexander’s stomach churn. If the queen had that page, their entire family could be ruined. Every secret, every hidden action, every attempt he had made to protect them could now be exposed.
He began pacing the room, his steps uneven, muttering under his breath. "What... what do I do? What do I do now?" His hands shook as he ran them through his hair, pulling slightly in frustration and fear.
Morning arrived, pale light spilling into the carriage as the Andreyevna family began their journey back to the capital. The rolling landscape of the countryside sped by, but Alexander barely noticed it. He stared blankly out the window, his thoughts trapped in a whirlwind of anxiety.
Pyotr, seated beside him, observed his father quietly at first. The boy was perceptive, more so than his age would suggest. Finally, he leaned slightly toward Alexander, his voice soft and careful. "Are you okay, Papa?" he asked. "You’ve been sighing since we left the Grand Duke’s palace. Are you worried about Lydia?"
Alexander said nothing, his jaw tight, his hands gripping the edge of the carriage seat.
Pyotr leaned closer, lowering his voice even further, almost as if he feared someone could overhear. "You don’t have to worry. I know... I know he loves Lydia very much. He would do anything for her. He will protect her."
Alexander froze, the words striking him like a lightning bolt. His mind raced, connecting the pieces he hadn’t allowed himself to see. Of course. Of course, Ivan would do anything to protect her. That was why he had been so careful, so calculated. It wasn’t cruelty that had driven him to act as he did. It was fear... and love.
A thought formed in Alexander’s mind, sharp and urgent. There was only one person he could ask for help. Only one person who could help him now.
Ivan.
The Grand Duke.
Alexander’s heart pounded. The very man who could destroy any traitor in the kingdom would not harm Lydia. Not her. Not ever. Ivan’s love for her was too deep, too unyielding. Alexander could see it now. He remembered the way Ivan had broken down when Lydia was missing, the anguish in his eyes, the raw desperation. He would do anything to protect her. That much was certain.
Alexander turned his gaze to the horizon. The sun was climbing higher, casting light over the forests and fields rushing past the carriage. He clenched his fists, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on him.
He is the only one who can help me, Alexander thought. The only one who can keep her safe, the only one who can make sure none of this destroys her.
He swallowed hard, feeling the taste of fear and hope mingle bitterly in his mouth. This was not just a matter of survival for the family. It was about Lydia. Her safety. Her life. And in that moment, Alexander realized something he had buried deep in his conscience.
He could no longer carry this alone.
He looked at Pyotr, who was watching him with wide, trusting eyes. The boy’s innocence struck him like a dagger. I cannot fail them, Alexander thought. I will not fail her. I will ask him for help. No matter what it costs me.
The carriage moved steadily toward the capital, and Alexander’s mind continued to churn. He went over every possibility, every risk, every outcome. Could he approach Ivan? Could he ask for his forgiveness, his aid, without losing everything? The thought made him shiver. But he had no choice. Not if he wanted to protect Lydia, not if he wanted to save their lives.
I will go to him, he whispered to himself, his voice low, almost a prayer. I will beg him. I will do whatever it takes. For her.
And as the carriage rattled along the road, the city slowly coming into view, Alexander knew one thing with absolute certainty. There was only one man in the world who could truly protect her now.
The Grand Duke.
And he had no other choice but to face him.