As soon as Galina left, Lydia was left alone again. She sat quietly on the bed, holding her book, flipping through the pages without really reading.
A soft knock came at the door. Before she could answer, her uncle walked in. His expression was as cold as always.
"The dressmaker is here," he said, his voice calm but sharp. "Would you prefer coming down, or shall she come up?"
Lydia didn't even lift her head.
"She can come up," she answered quietly.
Not long after, the dressmaker came bustling into the room, carrying rolls of fabric and a small wooden box. She was a cheerful woman, always ready with something to say.
As she fitted Lydia's corset, she started gossiping without shame.
"Poor child," she said while tugging at the laces. "Imagine Lord Alexander marrying you off to a man four times your age. It's a crime, if you ask me."
Lydia said nothing, just stared at the mirror in front of her.
"If it were me," the dressmaker chuckled, "I'd count myself lucky. A count! A grand house! Jewels! I'd be the luckiest girl alive."
She winked at Lydia, expecting her to laugh along.
Lydia stayed silent. Her hands gripped the edge of her seat.
Soon after, Elena and Anya came into the room. By then, the first fitting was done. Even though the gown wasn't finished, Lydia already looked breathtaking. The dress hugged her slim waist and flowed down in soft folds.
Anya clapped her hands.
"You look beautiful, Lydia. Just like Aunt Anastasia."
The dressmaker nodded. "It's a shame, really. A beautiful bride deserves a beautiful groom."
Tears filled Lydia's eyes as she looked at her own reflection.
Elena saw it first.
"Enough," she said sharply.
Anya and the dressmaker immediately fell silent.
The dressmaker, trying to lighten the mood, smiled and said,
"Don't you worry, my lady. The dress will be the most beautiful thing anyone has ever seen. Go ahead and change back."
Lydia nodded. She changed into her simple day dress without a word.
The rest of the day passed quietly. Lydia lay in bed with her eyes closed, wishing the world would disappear.
In his chamber in the palace, Ivan was doing the same.
Early the next morning, while Lydia still lay in bed half-asleep, the sound of carriage wheels broke the silence outside.
Galina and Daria came rushing into her room.
"My lady, wake up! Lady Irina is here!"
They helped her bathe and dress quickly. Her heart pounded. She hadn't seen Irina in so long.
Downstairs, outside the house, Alexander stood talking to one of his ship captains. The man had just finished reporting something when Alexander turned and saw her.
Irina.
She stepped down from the carriage, black hair tied neatly back, pale skin almost glowing against her dark traveling cloak. Her sharp blue eyes locked onto him without fear. Even after all these years, she was still striking. Pretty, even, despite the lines at the corners of her eyes.
Alexander scoffed under his breath.
"I knew that girl would send for you," he muttered.
He walked up to her with a smirk.
"You're wasting your time. Lady Lydia is not to receive any visitors today. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Not until she's married."
Irina didn't even blink.
"You have no right to stop me," she said, her voice loud and clear. "I swore before a priest to guard that girl with my life. And you—" she narrowed her eyes— "would do well to remember who I am. I am a baroness. And cousin to the queen."
Alexander's mouth clamped shut.
"Now," Irina said, lifting her chin, "get her. I'll be waiting here."
In Lydia's room, Galina and Daria were fast at work, dressing her as quickly as they could. Her hands trembled as they buttoned up her bodice.
The moment she was ready, she rushed down the stairs.
The moment she saw Irina standing there, she ran straight into her arms.
"My darling girl," Irina whispered, holding her tightly. "I came as fast as I could. You have endured enough."
Tears streamed down Lydia's face as she clung to her.
Without waiting another moment, Irina led her to the carriage. They climbed in, and the horses pulled them away from the house.
Inside the carriage, Lydia wiped her tears and asked in a small voice,
"Where are we going?"
Irina smiled gently.
"I have an idea," she said. "I can't cancel your marriage to Count Viktor. If I try, your uncle will only do worse. But I know someone who can help. Someone your uncle fears. A powerful woman who can defy all laws."
Lydia stared at her.
"The queen?"
Irina nodded.
By the time they reached the palace, the sun had risen high in the sky. The guards recognized Irina at once and opened the gates without question.
Lydia looked around in awe. It had been so long since she last saw the grand marble halls, the golden walls, the shining chandeliers. She remembered coming here as a child for royal events with her parents. After their death, her uncle had kept her away from the court.
Nothing had changed.
They were led straight to Queen Olga's private chamber.
When they entered, Olga was sitting in a high-backed chair, reading a book. She looked up, her face unreadable.
Both Lydia and Irina bowed low.
"Who is this girl?" Olga asked at once, her voice sharp.
"My goddaughter," Irina said.
"And why are you here?" the queen asked, closing her book. "What was so urgent that you came running to me the moment you returned?"
Irina explained everything.
Olga listened quietly, then turned her sharp gaze on Lydia.
"And is it true?"
Lydia's heart hammered in her chest. She could barely get the words out.
"Y-Yes, Your Majesty," she stammered.
The queen leaned back in her chair.
"So what?" she said coldly. "You're here because you don't want to marry an old man? Is that all? Then leave. I have no time for girls running away from marriage."
The words hit Lydia like a slap.
But she didn't move.
She dropped to her knees. Tears streamed down her face.
"Please, Your Majesty," she cried. "I can't marry him. Please save me. You are my only."
Olga gave a cold laugh. She called for her grand chamberlain.
Just as he entered to escort them out, Lydia shouted again.
"I will do anything! Please! Anything!"
Olga stopped. She raised an eyebrow.
"Anything?"
"Yes," Lydia sobbed.
The queen waved her hand at the grand chamberlain to step back.
She rose from her chair and came closer, looking Lydia over slowly.
"Such a beautiful child," she said. "It would be a shame to waste you on an old count."
Lydia's heart skipped.
"I won't cancel your marriage," Olga said, her voice low.
Lydia's breath caught.
"We'll change the groom."