Chapter 242: The Devil’s Lies

Lydia sat curled up on the edge of her bed, her robe slipping off her thin shoulders, her hands trembling as they clutched the fabric tight against her chest. Tears stained her cheeks, hot and endless, dripping into the collar of her robe. Her breaths were uneven, short and shaky, as if every inhale burned and every exhale broke her apart more.

Katherine stood a few steps away, her hands wringing together nervously. Her eyes, usually so firm and steady, were full of worry as she looked at her mistress, at the woman who had once been so strong but was now breaking piece by piece.

Katherine finally spoke, her voice low, soft, almost as though she feared her words might push Lydia into a deeper spiral.

"So you’ll never tell His Highness about your pregnancy?" she asked quietly. "About his child?"

At those words, Lydia’s hands dropped to her stomach, trembling fingers pressing into the silk of her robe as if she was afraid the child might slip away if she didn’t hold tight enough. Her head shook, her wet hair clinging to her cheeks.

"I don’t know," Lydia whispered, her voice raw, cracked from sobbing. "I don’t know, Katherine. But I have to keep it a secret."

Her eyes, wide and wild, darted up to meet Katherine’s. They were full of pain, of panic, of something broken that no amount of comforting could mend. She looked as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff, and one wrong word could push her over.

Katherine took a step closer, her voice trembling. "Your Highness... you are nearly three months pregnant. In just a matter of weeks it will start to show. How do you plan to hide that?"

The question hung heavy in the room. Lydia pressed her hands harder into her stomach, as if trying to crush the truth, as if holding it down could stop it from growing, from being discovered. Her lips trembled, her shoulders shaking violently with each sob.

"I don’t know," she whispered again, her voice breaking in the middle. "I don’t know, Katherine."

Katherine’s own throat tightened as she looked at her mistress, at the woman who had survived so much, and yet now looked so fragile, as if even the wind could break her. "Then tell him," she urged, her voice firmer, desperate to reach her.

Lydia shook her head quickly, clutching at her robe with one hand and wiping her face with the other, though the tears only came faster. Her whole body rocked as though she was arguing with herself more than with Katherine.

"How?" Lydia cried, her voice loud for the first time, though it quickly broke down into another sob. "How can I tell him? We only got back together for just a month. Just one month. He has no... he has no idea that he and I—" her words caught in her throat, her sobs choking her. She buried her face in her hands for a moment before forcing herself to speak again. "He has no idea that he and I slept together."

Katherine froze, her eyes widening, but she stayed silent, listening.

"He believes it’s Lady Orlova," Lydia whispered bitterly, her tears blurring everything in front of her. "So what do I do? Tell him now? Tell him when he thinks it was Tatiana he touched? When he doesn’t even know it was me?"

Her voice cracked again, and she leaned forward, burying her face against her knees, her shoulders shaking so violently that Katherine could hear the sound of her sobs echoing in the chamber.

Katherine swallowed hard, her heart aching at the sight. "But you know that she is not pregnant," she said gently, carefully. "So why... why did you destroy the evidence? The evidence of her lies?"

Lydia lifted her head slowly, her face pale, her lips trembling. Her eyes, red and swollen, stared at Katherine as though she couldn’t believe she had asked such a thing.

"Even if Ivan knows that Tatiana is not pregnant..." Lydia’s voice was hollow, shaking, heavy with despair, "it wouldn’t help me. Don’t you see?"

Katherine opened her mouth to protest, but Lydia cut her off, her words spilling out like blood from an open wound.

"If he could abandon me and our baby before," she said, her voice sharp and broken, "then he’ll do it again. He’ll do it again and this time it will be worse."

Her sobs returned, choking her words, but she forced them out anyway, as if she needed Katherine to understand, as if speaking them out loud would make sense of her pain.

"Katherine, he left us," Lydia whispered. "He left me when I needed him most. He left our child. He never came. Do you understand? He never came." Her chest heaved with every word. "He read my letters. I know he read them. But still... he didn’t come."

Katherine’s lips trembled, but she stayed silent. There was nothing she could say that would heal the wounds Lydia was tearing open again and again.

"This is worse," Lydia cried, shaking her head as if she couldn’t bear the weight of her own thoughts. "It’s worse now. Because he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know that it was me that night. He doesn’t know that we slept together. He thinks it’s Tatiana."

Her voice fell to a whisper, trembling, almost incoherent. "It was me, Katherine. It was me. And now..." She touched her stomach again, her hands trembling. "Now, if anyone finds out about my pregnancy... especially the queen, especially the senate... I could easily be accused of infidelity. They could dispose of me. They could kill me."

Her voice broke completely, and she buried her face into her hands, rocking back and forth, her sobs filling the room like the sound of something shattering.

"I have to protect this baby," Lydia whispered through her tears. "I have to protect our baby. I won’t lose my child ever again. Never again. I’ll do anything—" her voice rose, filled with desperation, her hands clutching at her stomach like a shield— "anything to make sure this child stays where he or she belongs."

Her voice cracked and fell into silence, only the sound of her sobs filling the air. Katherine slowly stepped closer, but she still kept her distance, afraid that any sudden move might push Lydia further into despair.

"I still don’t understand," Katherine whispered after a long moment, her voice soft, pleading. "How Lady Orlova is in the picture. Why do you need her?"

Lydia slowly lifted her head, her eyes full of tears, her lips trembling as she tried to form words. Her whole body shook as she spoke, her voice hollow, empty, yet filled with a strange kind of resolve.

"I need her," Lydia whispered, her hands tightening on her robe. "I need her lies."