Chapter 214: Secrets And Forgiveness
Lydia sat on her bed, her body leaning against the pillows, but her mind was far from resting. Her eyes stared blankly at the wall, though she was not truly looking at it. It was as if her gaze had gone through the wall and out into nothingness. Her heart felt heavy, and her head kept repeating the same thought like a cruel chant.
"I can’t let anyone find out. Not now. If they do, everything will be ruined."
Her fingers twisted the sheets tightly as she whispered those words in her head again and again. It was not fear alone that pressed on her chest, but anger, pain, and the sharp memory of all that had been taken from her.
Then, suddenly, there was a knock on her door. The sound pulled her out of her thoughts. For a moment, she did not answer. Her throat felt dry. But finally, with a calm voice that hid her storm inside, she said, "Come in."
The door opened, and three figures stepped in quietly. Alexander. Elena. Anya.
At once, Elena and Anya rushed to her side, their faces full of concern. Elena’s hands reached for Lydia as tears filled her eyes. "Lydia... are you okay?"
Anya’s soft voice followed, shaking with emotion. "Please tell us, Lydia. Are you alright?"
Lydia looked at them with an empty expression, her eyes dull and tired. "I’m fine," she said simply. But her tone was cold, distant, as if the word did not carry any truth.
Elena’s strength crumbled the moment she heard Lydia’s voice. She fell into her niece’s arms, hugging her tightly. "I’m so sorry," Elena cried, her tears wetting Lydia’s shoulder. "I’m so sorry you had to go through so much alone."
Anya’s tears fell freely too as she clutched Lydia’s arm. "I’m sorry," she whispered, her small voice trembling.
Their sorrow only made the silence heavier. For a moment, Lydia did not hug Elena back. She sat stiff, her eyes staring past them. Only after a pause did her lips part, not with comfort, but with bitterness.
Alexander stood at the foot of the bed. His hands clenched into fists, his face pale as he struggled to speak. Finally, he said with a voice low and heavy, "Why didn’t you tell me, Lydia? If you did... I would have done something. Anything."
Lydia scoffed, the sound sharp like broken glass. Her lips twisted into a bitter smile as she turned her eyes on him. "Since when do you care about me, Uncle?"
The word "Uncle" came out like poison on her tongue.
Alexander’s shoulders sank. "I know..." His voice cracked. "I know I said you shouldn’t come back home. But I didn’t mean it. I was only angry in that moment. I spoke out of pride. Out of weakness. I’m truly sorry, Lydia. I really am."
But Lydia’s laugh was bitter and hollow. "You aren’t sorry, Uncle. And I don’t need you to pity me." Her voice grew colder with each word. "Don’t try to act like a good person, because you definitely are not."
Her eyes locked on his with fire. "Did you forget? You are the reason I got married to him in the first place. You are the reason for all of this."
Alexander’s lips trembled. "Lydia..."
But she did not stop. The pain in her chest burned too fiercely to be silenced. "If you never tried to force me to marry that count... If you hadn’t taken everything from me... I wouldn’t have run to Her Majesty for help. I wouldn’t have been subjected to marry him just to get back my life. The life that you stole from me." Her voice broke, but her anger carried her through.
She turned her face away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I wouldn’t be in this situation at all. You took everything from me, Uncle. My happiness. My ship. My home. Everything."
Her breath shook as she whispered the last words. "So don’t... Don’t you dare act like you care about me. Because you don’t."
The room fell into a tense silence. Only Elena’s quiet sobs and Anya’s sniffles filled the air.
Finally, Lydia whispered coldly, "Please leave. I want to rest."
Elena lifted her head, her face wet with tears. "Lydia—"
Lydia’s sharp voice cut her off. "Leave. I won’t repeat myself again. Leave me be."
Alexander lowered his head, his heart breaking under the weight of her words. His voice was soft, almost a whisper. "Yes, Your Highness."
He turned and walked out quietly. His steps were slow at first, but his chest felt so suffocated that he rushed as soon as he crossed the door.
Alexander’s mind was a storm. Guilt, regret, shame. They swallowed him whole. He knew too well that he had wronged Lydia. The truth pressed down on him so heavily that it felt like he could not breathe. He told himself for years that what he did was to protect her, to protect his own children, to protect his name. But now, looking into her broken eyes, he realized it clearly.
He had not protected her. He had destroyed her.
She was his niece, and yet he had stolen her life with his own hands.
His steps quickened as he reached the palace stairs, trying to escape his own thoughts. But then his eyes caught sight of Olga.
She was standing by the tall window, her gaze calm, admiring the blooming flowers outside. Spring had covered the gardens in color, but for Alexander, the sight only made the pain in his chest sharper. His breath grew shallow. The moment his eyes landed on her, his chest tightened until it felt like he was choking.
Olga turned her head slowly and noticed him. A sly smile curved her lips. "You don’t look well, Lord Andreyevna," she said softly, her tone laced with amusement. "What’s the issue? Is it because of your niece?" Her eyes sparkled with malice. "Or do you perhaps have secrets you’re afraid of others finding out?"
Alexander froze. His whole body trembled. He wanted to speak, but no words came out.
Olga’s scoff was light, almost playful. She stepped closer, her perfume faint in the air. "You’re so serious," she whispered. "But don’t worry. No one will know about it."
She gave him a final smile, her eyes cold despite the curve of her lips, and then walked away with graceful steps.
Alexander stood still, his heart racing, his body shaking. Her words pierced him like daggers. He felt exposed, powerless, and cornered.
Just then, Elena and Anya appeared.
"Papa," Anya said quickly, her voice filled with worry. "Are you alright?"
Alexander straightened himself, forcing a calm expression on his face. "I’m fine. It’s nothing."
Elena touched his arm gently. "Don’t worry. She’ll be alright. I know she’ll forgive you one day."
Alexander’s lips curved into a small smile, but it was not real. It was a smile without warmth, painted only to hide his despair. "I know," he said softly. "Let’s go home."
And with that, they walked away together.
But in his heart, Alexander knew. Forgiveness was a dream he might never see.