Chapter 208: The Devil’s Trial Pt5
Lydia stood just behind Ivan, her body shaking, her hands pressed against the folds of her gown as if holding herself together. The courtroom seemed distant. All she could hear was the thunder of that night, the pounding of the rain against her window, the memory of the storm that had come when her baby had died. Every flash of lightning, every echoing clap of thunder returned her to that moment. Her chest tightened, her heart ached, and her eyes were already wet.
Ivan turned slightly, just enough to glance at her. His sharp gaze softened instantly when he saw her trembling. Her lips were pressed tight, her chin quivering, and her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. He could feel her fear, her sorrow, and a deep pang of anger rose in him. How could they accuse her of anything, when she had endured so much?
Tatiana’s uncle stepped forward again, his voice rising with cruel certainty. "Your Majesty, this is the only explanation for everything. The Grand Duchess is infertile. She cannot bear children. They have been married for three years, and still she has not provided an heir. Your Majesty, this woman cannot even fulfill her duty to provide heirs and secure her husband’s lineage."
A gasp swept across the chamber. Alexander’s face turned red with anger. "Your Majesty, this is madness! They only stayed together for three months! How can you accuse her of infertility?"
Tatiana’s uncle waved his hand dismissively. "Three years, three months. It makes no difference. They should have had a child. How do you explain her behavior? Because she cannot have children, she is trying to ruin the Grand Duchy. That is the only explanation."
Lydia felt the walls close in. Her body trembled violently, her fingers curling into tight fists. The blood in her veins seemed to freeze. She could hear Vladimir shifting in his seat uncomfortably. Even Alexander and Anna looked like they wanted to step forward, but the court’s weight held them back.
Then, something in her snapped. A bitter, cold laugh erupted from her lips, echoing through the courtroom. It was laughter not of joy but of pain sharpened into steel.
"Infertility," she said, her voice slicing the tension like a sword. "You dare accuse me of infertility? That is the last thing you should dare accuse me of. Because I am not infertile."
The room froze. The senators blinked, mouths opening and closing in confusion. Vladimir leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Lydia turned her gaze slowly, deliberately, and her eyes burned with quiet fury. "Ask your precious son," she said, her voice icy and clear. "Ask him what he did. Ask him what he did to our baby."
Whispers filled the room like wind through dry leaves. Shock painted every face. Olga’s confident smirk faltered, and even Vladimir’s mouth hung slightly open. Ivan looked down, unable to meet her gaze, the color draining from his face.
"What... what do you mean by baby?" Vladimir finally asked, his voice tight with confusion and disbelief.
Lydia’s chest heaved. She lifted her chin, her gaze sweeping across the chamber with quiet rage. "I had a baby. A son. But he fell sick, and he died. Just days after his birth. He died because your son—" she turned sharply to Ivan, her voice trembling but sharp, her words slicing through the heavy air, "abandoned him. He abandoned me. He said he wanted nothing to do with either of us."
The courtroom erupted into murmurs. Senators shifted in their seats, some pale, some whispering nervously to one another. The whispers rose to a murmur of scandal and disbelief.
Lydia’s hands trembled as she gripped the edges of the bench. Her voice rose, carrying the weight of grief, fury, and love all at once. "He left us! He left our baby to die! Our son died without a name! And he does not care. None of you care! Do you hear me?"
Tatiana’s uncle went pale. The color drained from his face as her words landed like cannonballs. The rest of the senators fidgeted uncomfortably. They had all assumed this accusation would break her, but she had turned it into a weapon, revealing a truth they had no answer for.
Her voice grew louder, stronger, almost frightening in its intensity. "If you want me gone, fine. I will leave. But do not, I repeat, do not dare call me infertile. Do not rob me of my child’s memory. Do not erase my son’s existence. You will not take that from me!"
Her eyes swept the room. They landed on Ivan for the briefest of moments, and her tone softened only slightly, revealing the raw, aching love underneath the anger. "He was mine. He was his father’s too, and he was beautiful. And yet because of what he did, he is gone. And he didn’t even have a name. And if you think you can stop me. If you try to get in my way by thinking forcing me to divorce His Highness, remember this. The Grand Duke will lose sixty percent of its wealth to me. Sixty percent of all his estates, all his properties... everything will be mine. And I will not take questions. I will not answer to you."
She turned sharply, her gown swirling around her, and walked out of the courtroom. Each step trembled with emotion, but there was power in her movements. The second she passed through the doorway, tears fell freely. Her hands flew to her chest, clutching it as if to contain the pain, the love, and the fury all at once. Her shoulders shook, and sobs escaped her lips despite her attempts to remain composed.
The senators were silent. Even Olga, who had spent the trial smiling and scheming, stared in disbelief. She had not expected this. She had expected Lydia to crumble, to be humiliated. Instead, Lydia had revealed a wound none of them could touch and walked away unbroken, more dangerous than before.