The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 36: The Devil Can Also Love

The next morning,

Lydia woke up with swollen eyes. Her lashes felt heavy, her cheeks stiff from dried tears. She stayed quiet for a while, just lying still in bed, trying to process everything that had happened the night before. Shame and sadness sat heavy in her chest. The memory of her loneliness, of touching herself while thinking of Ivan, rushed back to her and made her heart twist painfully.

She slowly sat up and moved to the edge of her bed. The sun had already risen, casting golden light through the window and bathing her in its gentle warmth. She looked outside and spotted a small nest on the tree just outside her window. Two little birds were cuddled together in it, and beneath them, she saw tiny eggs. They looked so peaceful. So complete. So... loved.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes filled with tears again. She tried to hold them back, but they spilled down her cheeks silently. Her chest ached. She wanted that warmth, that feeling of being protected and cared for.

A soft knock on her door pulled her back.

"Your Highness," one of her maids called from behind the door. "May we come in? We brought fresh clothes and warm water for your bath." frёeωebɳovel.com

Lydia quickly wiped her tears and sat up straight. "Come in," she said, trying her best to sound calm.

The maids came in, smiling softly, pretending not to notice her red eyes. They laid out a soft lilac dress and prepared the bath. Lydia let them help her wash and dress. Her hair was pulled into a neat chignon. She looked beautiful, but she didn’t feel it.

Just as they were finishing, Katherine stepped into the room.

"Your Highness," she said gently, "a messenger has arrived from the palace. He is waiting in the dining hall. Also, breakfast is ready."

Lydia gave a small nod, still feeling drained. Katherine bowed and left.

Meanwhile, in another part of the palace, Ivan was already awake. He hadn’t slept all night. He kept tossing and turning, unable to stop thinking about Lydia. He hated the thought that she might have cried because of him. That she was hurting, and he could do nothing about it.

He had freshened up and was sitting quietly when a knock came at his door. A servant entered, bowing.

"Your Grace, a messenger has arrived and awaits in the dining hall."

Ivan stood and gave a short nod. "I’ll be there," he said simply and walked out, his face expressionless.

Lydia entered the dining room first and paused when she saw Boris sitting in Ivan’s usual seat. Her brows furrowed slightly.

Boris stood up and bowed with a playful smile. "Your Highness," he greeted.

She gave him a small nod and sat in the same seat she had used the previous night. "What happened? Why are you here?"

Just then, Ivan entered the room. His gaze immediately landed on Boris.

"Get out of my seat," he said firmly.

Boris raised his hands playfully. "I didn’t know you were here. Not to think of having a seat."

Ivan didn’t blink. "It’s not your business to sit there."

There was a tense silence, but then they all sat down and started eating. Lydia said nothing at first, her eyes on her food, until Ivan finally broke the silence.

"Why are you here, Boris? I didn’t know the head guard of the Czar had become a messenger all of a sudden."

Boris grinned. "I came because I missed my one and only friend."

Lydia looked up, surprised. Friend? That word didn’t seem to suit Ivan at all. But now that she thought about it, she had noticed Boris seemed unusually playful around Ivan.

As if reading her thoughts, Boris looked at her. "Are you surprised, Your Highness? That he has friends? We’ve been friends since he was a child."

Lydia blinked. "Oh... I just didn’t expect it."

Ivan responded flatly, "We’re not friends."

Boris gasped dramatically. "Hmph! So we’re not friends, Your Highness? Then I guess I kept your embarrassing secrets for no reason. Maybe you’d like to hear some?"

He began to speak, but before he could say anything, Ivan quickly shoved a piece of bread into his mouth.

"You never shut up," Ivan muttered.

Lydia couldn’t help it. She laughed.

It was soft, but it filled the room like sunlight. Boris chuckled too,"Okay. Okay I’ll shut up."

But Ivan... he was frozen.

He looked at her, really looked at her. She was laughing. And she looked... breathtaking. Light. Happy. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He had never seen her not once since their wedding smile or yet laugh. She looked beautiful. Too warm.

Lydia noticed his gaze and looked at him. Their eyes locked. It was only for a second, but it felt like time paused. Then Ivan quickly looked away, pretending he hadn’t been staring.

She returned her attention to her food. As she picked up a piece of fruit, the small knife in her hand slipped and gave her a small cut on her finger.

She winced.

Before she could even react further, Ivan was at her side. He took her hand quickly and examined the cut.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and tight.

Then, without thinking, he leaned down and sucked on the cut gently to stop the bleeding.

Boris sat there, speechless, mouth slightly open. He raised his brows and cleared his throat loudly.

Ivan didn’t seem to hear him at first. He was still holding Lydia’s hand, lost in her gaze. She looked at him, stunned, her cheeks flushing.

Then they both seemed to realize where they were. Ivan let go of her hand immediately, turning away. Lydia quickly looked down, embarrassed. Her heart was racing.

The rest of breakfast passed in silence, the air thick with tension.

After breakfast, Boris followed Ivan around, annoying him as usual. Ivan didn’t say much, but it was clear Boris was pushing his limits.

Eventually, Boris grew tired and went off to take a nap. Ivan, relieved, stepped outside for a walk.

He strolled around his palace slowly. The air was cold and fresh. Snow covered the ground, and the trees stood bare. It was quiet.

Then he spotted her.

Lydia stood near the orchard. She wore a thick cloak, but she was clearly shivering. Her hands were red from the cold. Ivan took a step forward, wanting to go to her, but he paused.

She held a stick and was trying to knock down an apple from one of the higher branches. He watched her struggle with it. She hit the branch once, twice, then again. Finally, the apple dropped.

She picked it up, smiling softly. Then Ivan noticed the little boy beside her – one of the servant’s children. She handed the apple to him, and the boy’s eyes lit up. He hugged her tightly.

She laughed.

It wasn’t a loud laugh, but it was pure and gentle. She looked so happy. So full of kindness.

Ivan felt something shift in his chest. She hadn’t picked the apple for herself. She came out into the freezing cold, just to make a little boy smile. And she looked so... content.

He muttered to himself, "There were apples on the table this morning. She could have had one. Or asked a servant. Why come out in the cold for this?"

Then he got his answer.

Because that’s who she was. Lydia.

And it hit him. Like a blow to his chest.

He was in love with her.

Not just because she was beautiful. Not because she was kind to him. But because she was light. And warmth. And laughter. She was everything he had been told he could never have.

She would never laugh like that around him. Never look that free. Around him, she would always be sad. Always cry.

He turned away. His jaw clenched.

He loved her. But he had to stay away.

Because monsters didn’t get to keep the light.

And he... was still a monster.