The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 31: That Foolish Girl

Lydia was still burning up. Sweat clung to her skin, and her breath came in shallow pulls. Her body trembled as she tried to get up. Her feet touched the floor, and she gripped the bedpost, holding herself upright with all the strength she could summon. For a second, she stood.

Then everything went black.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

---

Far away in the capital, Ivan was just leaving the palace after his tense meeting with the king. The sky had turned a pale gray, clouds hanging low with the promise of rain. On his ride back to Svetlana, his horse slowed as they passed the familiar road that led to the Andreyevna house.

His eyes lingered on the gate.

He didn’t know why he stopped.

He had no reason to.

But something in him urged him to turn. He tugged the reins slightly and drew to a halt in front of the Andreyevna estate. For a moment, he said nothing. Just sat on his horse, unmoving, his gaze resting on the house like a man remembering something he couldn’t quite grasp.

---

Back in Svetlana, Katherine had returned to Lydia’s chambers to check on her. As she opened the door, a cold jolt of fear coursed through her.

"Your Highness?" she called softly.

There was no reply.

Then she saw her—crumpled on the floor.

"Your Highness!"

Katherine rushed to her side and knelt, placing a trembling hand on Lydia’s forehead.

Burning.

She was burning.

Katherine shouted for help, her voice echoing through the halls.

---

In the capital once more, Ivan remained in front of the Andreyevna residence when a familiar voice caught his attention.

"Your Highness?"

It was Galina, returning from the market. Her arms full of parcels, she paused, blinking in surprise before dropping into a respectful curtsy.

"Please, come inside," she said, opening the gate.

The moment he stepped through, it was as though the temperature of the entire house shifted. The servants avoided his gaze. A silence fell over the place, thick with discomfort and fear.

Galina led him to Alexander’s study and excused herself.

Alexander rose as he entered, his face unreadable.

"Your Highness," he greeted stiffly with a slight bow. "What brings you here?"

"Nothing in particular. I had business at the palace and found myself in the area."

Alexander nodded, then straightened, voice laced with tension. "I appreciate the thought. But your presence is unnecessary. Kindly leave."

Ivan raised a brow. "Excuse me, my lord. You do remember I am the Grand Duke of this kingdom—not just your in-law."

Alexander’s lips twitched. "Yes, I respect your title. But as for in-law—I don’t consider you one."

Ivan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Lydia ceased being an Andreyevna the moment she accepted that ridiculous marriage. She lost the right to bear our name."

Alexander stood, collecting papers from his desk. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but I must be going. I trust you can see yourself out. There is no law that says I must welcome a royal into my house against my will."

His words were sharp—but his hand trembled slightly. He was scared. He masked it behind indifference, but Ivan saw the strain in his eyes.

He left the study without waiting for a response.

Ivan remained in the room for a moment, then stepped out into the hallway. A small voice called out.

"Are you Lydia’s husband? The Grand Duke?"

Ivan turned.

It was Pyotr.

He nodded.

"Where is she?" the boy asked.

"In Svetlana," Ivan replied simply.

Pyotr sighed in disappointment. "Do you want to see her room?"

---

Back in Svetlana, Lydia lay on the bed once more, her body still and breath quiet. The physician had just finished checking her.

"She’s stable now," he said, straightening his coat. "Just exhausted. Malnourished. Weak from stress. She needs rest. She’ll be alright."

Katherine exhaled deeply and gently stroked Lydia’s hair.

---

At the Andreyevna house, Pyotr led Ivan to Lydia’s bedroom.

He opened the door carefully.

It was exactly as she left it.

Warm.

Simple.

Soft pastels, lace curtains, a stack of old novels near the window seat. Ivan stepped inside and looked around.

He murmured to himself, "It’s just like her. Warm."

Then a sharp voice cut through.

"Pyotr. What are you doing here?"

It was Elena.

She froze when she saw Ivan. Her face flushed, and she immediately bowed.

"Your Highness."

Pyotr, now nervous, dashed to Ivan and hugged him from behind.

"Sister, don’t yell at me. Please."

Elena’s face softened. "I won’t yell. You can let His Highness go."

Pyotr stepped back sheepishly. "I just wanted to show him Lydia’s room."

Elena nodded. "I understand. But your French tutor is waiting."

Pyotr groaned, but turned to Ivan. "I’ll come visit you soon!"

He ran off.

Elena turned back to Ivan. "Forgive him, Your Highness. He can be a bit too much."

"It’s alright. I don’t find him annoying."

There was a pause.

Then Elena asked, voice softer, "How is Lydia?"

Ivan looked down. "She’s alright."

"I’ve wanted to visit her. Or write. But Father won’t allow it."

Ivan tilted his head. "Because she married me?"

Elena hesitated. "Not exactly. Because she refused the marriage Father arranged for her. And chose you instead..."

...

Silence settled between them.

Ivan turned to leave.

Just as he reached the door, Pyotr came running again, a wooden box in his arms.

"Wait!" he called.

Elena followed close behind.

"We packed it for Lydia," she said. "A few things from her room. Just to give her a piece of home."

Ivan took it gently.

"Thank you."

He left the house without another word.

Elena watched him go. Galina stepped beside her.

"He feels like a different person now," she whispered.

Elena nodded. "He does."

---

The sun was slowly setting.

Ivan had been on the road for hours. The box rested behind him on the horse. His thoughts spun like a wheel refusing to stop.

He muttered under his breath, "That foolish girl."

His grip tightened on the reins. "What a foolish girl."

---

In Svetlana, the fever had broken. Lydia slowly opened her eyes. Her lashes fluttered as she adjusted to the dim candlelight.

She was back in her chambers.

Katherine sat beside her, placing a damp cloth on her forehead.

"You’re awake," she whispered, relieved. "Thank the heavens."

Lydia blinked. Her throat was dry.

Katherine gently brushed her hair. "I warned you, Your Highness. I warned you not to get close to him. Not to fall for him. But you wouldn’t listen."

Lydia turned her head slightly.

"It’s too late," she murmured. "I already love him."

Her voice cracked. "And I don’t know how to stop. I don’t want to stop."

Katherine’s heart broke.

She leaned forward and held her, gently cradling her like a child.

"Poor thing. Don’t worry. Everything will be alright."

Lydia sobbed quietly in her arms.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get Ivan out of her mind.

– – –

Night had fallen, and Ivan found himself in the middle of nowhere. The air was cold and quiet, the kind of silence that made his thoughts louder. He had made a small camp and lit a fire. The flames crackled softly, casting shadows around him. But even with the warmth of the fire, he felt cold inside.

He sat still, staring into the flames, his mind far from where he was. He kept thinking about the conversation he had with Elena earlier. Her words wouldn’t leave him alone.

Back to that moment—the part that struck him the most....

He remembered asking her, "What do you mean by an arranged marriage? I don’t understand."

Elena had looked away, her voice low. "She was supposed to marry a count. Someone four times her age. She didn’t want to, but she wasn’t given a choice. And then... she ended up with you."

Ivan had frowned, confused. "Why do you say she didn’t have a choice?"

"She told me," Elena said. "Lydia never wanted to get married at all. She wanted to live free. Travel the world. Go wherever she wanted without anyone stopping her."

Ivan’s heart sank as he listened.

Elena had continued, "When she heard about her marriage to the count, she tried to run away. She packed her things and left in the middle of the night. But she didn’t get far. She was caught."

Then came the words that haunted him the most.

"She told me... if only she didn’t run into that injured man, she would’ve escaped."

Ivan’s chest tightened. "What do you mean?"

"She saw a man on the road. Bleeding. Hurt badly. She couldn’t leave him. So she helped him. That delay cost her everything. She was found and taken back home. After that, she didn’t try to run again."

Ivan didn’t need to ask who the man was. He already knew.

Elena had said it plainly. "She had to marry you. Not for love. But because she thought maybe it was the only way to get away from our father. But even now, she’s not free. She’s still suffering."

Now Ivan lay on the cold grass, looking up at the stars. His heart was heavy.

It was his fault.

If she hadn’t helped him, maybe she would’ve been happy. Maybe she would be far away, living the life she dreamed of. Free.

But because of him, she was trapped.