Chapter 205: The Devil’s Trial pt 2
Lydia was still smiling confidently at Olga, her eyes calm and steady, like a woman who had already decided she would not break no matter what. But Olga smiled back, her lips curving like a blade. Inside her heart she thought, you may think you are smart, but you have no idea what you are in for.
Vladimir’s voice cut through the heavy silence. "Next case."
A senator, an older man with sharp eyes, stood and cleared his throat. His voice was laced with scorn. "Your Highness. You claim you host these balls for the prosperity of Svetlana, but how come there are constant rumors of you behaving improperly at these gatherings? We hear that you, a married woman, have been seen dancing with nobles and even flirting with them. And what’s worse, His Highness was present during these shameful displays."
Another senator leaned forward, his words harsher. "Indeed. She behaves like a woman with no honor. Promiscuous, almost like an adulteress. We have also been informed that several of these men gifted her items, and she shamelessly accepted them. Tell us then, is this still in the name of Svetlana’s prosperity?"
The murmurs grew louder. Olga smirked, satisfied with how the words sank into the air like poison.
Ivan’s fist tightened on the arm of his chair. He was seconds away from snapping, but he forced himself to remain still, his nails digging into his palm. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.
Vladimir’s eyes turned toward Lydia. "What do you have to say about this?"
Lydia lifted her head, her voice calm but her eyes blazing. "I suppose you must have been raised by an adulteress to think I must look like one, just because I dance with men."
The senator who had spoken first slammed his hand against the desk. "How dare you!"
"How dare you," Lydia shot back, her voice ringing across the hall. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing without proof."
The chamber grew tense. Lydia continued, her words clear and cutting. "And yes, I did dance with men and speak to them. But every single one of them were foreigners. They had traveled to Svetlana, and I decided to win them over. I spoke with them, convinced them to invest in our city. What do you think I was talking about? Do you think I whispered secrets of betrayal? Or do you think I sold myself for their money? How disgusting of you to even suggest it."
The senator’s face turned red. "What—"
Lydia didn’t let him finish. "And as for the gifts. I am the Grand Duchess of Zolotaria. What is the crime in being gifted by my people and by foreign investors who wish to honor me? Would you rather they insult me? Would you prefer they walked into Svetlana and spat at my feet instead? Which would you choose?"
The man’s lips parted but no words came.
Lydia leaned forward slightly, her tone sharp. "Or perhaps you are the type of man who gifts a woman only to demand she spends the night with you. And now you dare to project your indecency on me. I will not take it lightly. Not today, not ever."
The senator’s mouth shut instantly, his pride stung by her words. The other senators shifted uncomfortably in their seats, avoiding her gaze.
Vladimir raised his hand, his voice steady. "Very well. Next case."
Another senator stood. His expression was stern, his gaze fixed on Lydia’s gown. "If she does not want to be accused of being an adulteress, then she should not dress like one. Look at her, Your Majesty. She stands on trial today, yet she dresses as though she is attending a ball. Her clothes are too revealing, too tight. And worse still, they are not even Zolotaria’s traditional attire. How can a Grand Duchess dress like this?"
Several others murmured in agreement, their faces wrinkled with disgust.
Before Vladimir could speak, Lydia chuckled softly. "What is wrong with my dressing? Ah, I see. You wanted me to appear here in rags, trembling like a beggar at your mercy. But last I checked, there is nothing wrong with what I wear. In case you did not know, my mother was not from Zolotaria. She was from Elysia. I honor her memory by wearing some of her ways. So tell me, what crime is there in honoring the traditions of my late mother? What right do you have to tell me what to wear?"
The senator’s face darkened, but another voice cut in quickly, louder and harsher. "That is not all, Your Majesty. We must also address her wastefulness. It has come to our notice that she is trying to empty the vaults of the grand duchy. She is deliberately sabotaging her household."
The hall grew tense. Vladimir’s gaze hardened. "What do you mean by that?"
The senator straightened his back, his voice eager, triumphant. "Your Majesty, it is well known that Her Highness wastes endless amounts of money. She imports clothes she rarely wears. Perfumes and oils worth an estate. Jewels, diamonds of every color, only to let them sit untouched. And if that were not enough, she had her chambers renovated twice in the span of three weeks. Twice! With costly furniture. If this is not waste, then what is? She is trying to ruin the grand duchy’s coffers."
The others chimed in quickly, nodding, echoing his words with a chorus of disapproval.
"Silence!" Vladimir’s voice thundered, shaking the court. The senators fell quiet, their mutters swallowed by the weight of his command. His eyes turned to Lydia. "Your Highness, what do you say to these accusations?"
Lydia’s lips curved into a faint smile. "I say it is utter rubbish, Your Majesty. Wastage? That is what you call it? I am the Grand Duchess of Zolotaria. Would you prefer I lived in a chamber filled with dust and rot? My chambers were empty for three years. Of course, they required renovation. And the second time, I simply had a balcony added, a place where I could sit and read. Tell me, what is so materialistic about that?"
She paused, then raised her chin. "And as for my clothes and jewels—what would you have me wear? Rags? It has always been the duty of the imperial family to dress their best. Our appearance represents the strength and status of this empire. If I walked out in torn cloth, would you not be the first to cry shame? Would you prefer the neighboring kingdoms laugh at us? Should they mock us as poor, broken, humiliated?"
The room fell silent. Not a senator dared speak.
Lydia’s voice grew sharper, her eyes sweeping across them. "When I dress well, when I appear with dignity, people only say good things about the royal family. And my husband does not mind. So tell me, why should you care? Perhaps you are jealous that I dress in ways your wives never could. That, my lords, is your problem, not mine."
A ripple of shock ran through the senators. Anna, watching from behind, whispered under her breath, "Looks like she is already handling everything herself."
Alexander, standing beside her, nodded slowly, pride flickering in his eyes. "Yes, she is."
But even as Lydia stood strong, her words slicing through every accusation, Ivan sat tense in his seat. His heart swelled with pride for her, but at the same time, he felt deeply uneasy. He knew Olga was not finished. And he knew this trial was not yet over.
Vladimir’s voice rose again, heavy and commanding. "Next case."
A senator rose slowly from his seat, his face grave, his tone cutting through the heavy air.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing stiffly, "this case is not a light one. It is a serious matter, and it concerns you directly."
The entire court seemed to still at those words. Ivan shifted slightly in his seat, his jaw tightening. Lydia’s lips curved faintly, but her fingers gripped the folds of her dress beneath the table.
Vladimir leaned back on his throne, his voice calm and deep. "Explain yourself," he commanded.
The senator stepped forward, his sharp eyes darting toward Lydia like a hawk circling prey. "Her Highness dismissed her lady-in-waiting. The very woman you, Your Majesty, had personally chosen. She replaced her with another, a woman who was cast aside by her husband. If this is not an insult, if this is not disrespect to you, the Czar, then what is?"
A ripple of murmurs moved across the chamber. All eyes darted between Vladimir and Lydia. Olga, sitting to the side, allowed a small smirk to play at the corner of her mouth, her hands folded neatly as though she were simply an observer. But her heart beat faster; this was the opening she had been hoping for.
Behind the rows of senators, Anna stood quietly. Her fingers dug slightly into her gown, squeezing the fabric as though she could wring the tension out of it. Her face remained composed, but her chest rose and fell a little quicker.
Vladimir’s gaze lingered on Lydia for a moment. His expression gave nothing away. He said in a steady voice, "I understand. Her Highness will answer for herself. Lydia, would you like to explain why you dismissed Lady Orlova?"
Lydia bowed her head slightly, her face calm though her voice carried an icy edge. "Your Majesty," she said, "I know you appointed Lady Orlova yourself, but she left me with no choice. I could not, and would not, keep her at my side."
Her tone hardened, colder now, sharper than any blade. "Lady Orlova is the very woman who once took advantage of my husband in his drunken state."
A shock of whispers and gasps filled the room, senators leaning toward one another in disbelief, some too stunned to speak.
Lydia turned then, her eyes sweeping across the chamber, meeting the gazes of those who dared to look at her. "Tell me," she said, her words slow, deliberate, cutting into them, "would you have me keep a snake near my bed? Would you have me pretend to be blind, to tolerate betrayal under my roof?"
Silence fell again. No one dared respond.
"I had to remove her," Lydia continued, her chin lifting proudly. "And I chose Anna instead. She is a good and loyal woman. She was a baroness for eighteen years. Tell me, which of you can name a better option than her? Who else is more suited? Who else can I trust?"
Her words hung in the air, daring anyone to answer. Yet none did. The chamber was quiet, heavy, the senators avoiding her eyes.
Lydia gave a short, humorless laugh. "From the looks of it, it seems none of you have anything useful to say. Not one."
The sting of her words lingered, but before the silence could settle too deeply, another senator rose, his expression darker than the rest. He cleared his throat and addressed the throne. "Your Majesty," he began, his voice carrying a cruel edge, "perhaps you have not yet heard of the rumours that have been spreading like fire across Svetlana."
At once, Lydia’s brow arched in confusion. "Rumours?" she repeated, her voice tight.
Vladimir’s eyes narrowed, his hand tapping lightly on the arm of his chair. "What rumour?" he demanded.
The senator’s lips curved into something close to satisfaction. He turned his gaze directly on Lydia, his words landing like blows. "According to what is being whispered across the capital, the Grand Duke attempted to end his own life just a few days ago."
Gasps echoed across the court. Murmurs broke out immediately, spreading from one senator to another like ripples across a stormy lake. The words rang heavy in the air, almost too loud, too cruel.
The senator’s eyes gleamed as he delivered the final strike. "And they say it is because of her."
Lydia’s face drained of colour. "What?" she breathed, her voice breaking slightly. Her eyes flickered toward Ivan instinctively, searching for him, for an anchor, for anything real in the sea of lies.
The chamber was alive with hushed voices now, whispers spreading like poison: "Because of her... he tried to... the Grand Duke..."
Olga leaned back slowly, her smirk widening. Her eyes glittered with cruel delight as she thought, Looks like things just became better.