Chapter 207: The Devil’s Trial Pt4
Olga was smiling. Her lips curved with a satisfaction she did not bother to hide. She looked like someone who had already won, like a cat watching a mouse trapped in a corner.
Lydia, on the other hand, was trembling. Her chest felt tight, her hands cold against the folds of her purple gown. She had dressed like a queen tonight, proud and untouchable, but now her strength was wavering under the heavy eyes of the senate. Every whisper, every sly look, every smirk pressed against her like a wall.
The senate members were satisfied. They believed they had her pinned. They could already taste victory, and the smugness in their faces made Lydia’s heart pound harder.
Tatiana’s uncle straightened with false righteousness and said, "Your Majesty, her Highness is dangerous to the Grand Duke and everyone around him. She needs to be dismissed. She needs to be investigated. She is practicing witc—"
"Enough!" Ivan’s voice snapped through the room like a blade cutting through silence.
The entire hall froze. Every whisper died. Every senator sat rigid. Even Olga’s smile faltered for a second.
Ivan left the podium with firm, unhurried steps. His boots echoed against the marble floor as he walked to the center, placing himself directly in front of Lydia. He stood like a shield, tall, cold, unshakable. Lydia felt her breath catch in her throat. For a moment, it was as if time itself had stopped.
He faced them, his voice like ice. "I know what game you all are playing. I won’t sit still why you insult my wife. It ends now."
Olga narrowed her eyes and spoke sharply, her tone like a knife. "Your Highness. She is standing trial for her wrongdoings. You cannot just disrupt the order."
Ivan’s head turned toward her slowly, and his voice cut through the tension. "What wrongdoings did she commit? Tell me. What has she done?" His eyes swept across the room. No one answered. "She did nothing wrong."
His words fell heavy, sinking deep into the silence.
"The law to protect women from being cast aside was not just her decision," Ivan continued firmly. "It was mine. I sealed that law myself. So why are you coming after her? Is it because of hosting balls? Tell me, why should we mourn a man who died from his own arrogance and pride? Did you all forget how he died?"
The senators shifted in their seats. Not one of them could meet his eyes.
"I do not care if she renovates her chambers every day or what she wears," Ivan said, his voice rising, cold and full of authority. "Why are you complaining about how my wife uses my money? My money. If I do not care, why should you?"
The senate members fell silent. They had no answer.
Lydia felt a wave of relief in her chest, so sharp it almost made her dizzy. Her eyes stung, but she blinked quickly. He is protecting me, she thought. He is standing in front of me, against all of them.
Alexander, Elena, Anya, Anna, and Boris all exhaled in relief, their tense shoulders finally lowering.
Olga scoffed, crossing her arms, trying to hide her irritation. But her eyes betrayed her anger.
Ivan’s voice dropped lower, but it was even sharper now. "And I never tried to take my life. Stop spreading lies." His eyes burned as he scanned their faces. "I only went to the lake to search for something precious I had lost."
Murmurs rippled, confusion sparking among them.
He looked at Lydia then, his voice softening just slightly. "Witchcraft. Bewitched. If that is the case, then I would be gladly bewitched by her."
The room fell utterly silent.
It was not just a defense. It was a confession. A man like Ivan, feared by all, had just admitted that Lydia held power over him—not through sorcery, but through love.
The senators exchanged uneasy glances. Olga’s face darkened, her nails biting into her palm.
Lydia’s heart skipped. His words washed over her like warmth she had been longing for, and for a moment she almost forgot where she was.
Ivan turned his gaze back to them. "If there is anything I find strange, it is all of you here acting as though you care about me. Weren’t you the same ones who agreed with the late Czar to send me to the border when I was nine? Tell me, who gave you that right? And now you dare stand here and talk about me like you ever cared?"
His voice thundered, filling every corner of the chamber. "This trial ends now, Your Majesty."
He turned, glaring at the senate members. His next words were like a blade pressed to their throats. "Not one more word."
All of them shifted, their faces pale, their bodies stiff with fear. They understood the warning. He would not hesitate if they pressed him further.
Then, slowly, Ivan turned to Lydia. His hard expression softened. He looked at her, and for the first time that night, his eyes carried tenderness. "Let’s go," he said softly.
He stretched his hand toward her.
Time itself seemed to stop. The room, the whispers, the senators, everything faded away. Lydia’s breath trembled. Her fingers twitched. She was about to place her hand in his, about to let him lead her out, away from the venom of this trial.
But then Tatiana’s uncle’s voice rang out, cutting through the stillness. "If this is the case," he said loudly, "then why did you divorce her?"
The words slammed into the room like thunder.
Ivan froze. "Huh?" His voice was sharp, but there was confusion in it.
Lydia’s hand jerked back, falling to her side. Her heart sank, her chest tightening as if stabbed.
The senator, smelling blood, continued boldly, turning to Vladimir. "Your Majesty, this woman cannot remain as the Grand Duchess. How can we trust a woman who was cast aside by her husband? A woman who disappeared for three whole years?"
Ivan’s eyes flared with rage. His voice dropped into a dangerous growl. "I will not warn you again."
But the man was reckless. He pressed on. "According to what I heard, people are saying his Highness divorced her because..." He hesitated for effect, then spat the words out. "Because she is infertile."
The hall exploded into gasps and murmurs. The sound rolled like a wave through the chamber, senators whispering to one another, shock and scandal breaking loose in every corner.
Lydia’s blood ran cold. Her face went pale. Her legs almost gave way beneath her. She stood frozen, her eyes wide, the cruel word echoing in her mind like a curse.
Ivan’s jaw clenched so tight a vein rose in his temple. His hands curled into fists, trembling with rage.
The senators leaned closer to one another, their whispers filling the room like the hiss of snakes.