Chapter 255: Fear and Blood Part 1

It was a very beautiful morning.

The sun had risen gently over the palace of Svetlana, covering the land in soft golden light that looked almost like silk spread across the earth. The sky was clear and bright, without even a single cloud to disturb it. Birds flew happily through the air, their sweet songs echoing through the gardens below like soft music carried by the wind. The flowers had fully bloomed after the long cold winter, opening wide as if they were breathing again after a long sleep. Their heavy scent filled the palace grounds, sweet and calm. Even the trees moved peacefully with the morning breeze, their leaves swaying slowly as if nothing in the world could ever be wrong.

Everything felt alive.

Everything felt warm.

Everything looked beautiful.

But somehow none of that beauty reached Ivan.

His chambers were dark despite the sunlight slipping through the curtains, as if the room itself refused to accept the morning.

Ivan laid restlessly on the bed, his body covered in sweat that clung to his skin. His breathing was uneven, broken, as he tossed from side to side like he was trying to escape something unseen. His brows tightened painfully as if he were fighting invisible battles inside his sleep, his fingers curling weakly into the sheets. His chest rose and fell too fast, as though even air had become heavy.

Because this was not just a dream.

It was a nightmare.

A nightmare he thought he had forgotten long ago.

A memory buried so deeply inside him that he was never meant to remember it again...

...Twenty four years ago.

The cold snow had almost melted away as spring slowly arrived in Svetlana. The palace looked beautiful beneath the morning sun, shining gently as if nothing had ever gone wrong within its walls. Servants moved quietly through the halls while flowers slowly began blooming again after winter, soft colors returning to life one petal at a time.

Everything looked peaceful.

But not inside the music room.

Little Ivan stood quietly by the large glass window, his tiny hands pressed against it as he stared outside with wonder in his eyes, completely lost in the world beyond the glass. He was only four years old. Small and quiet, with a soft innocence that had not yet been touched by pain.

The birds resting in their nests fascinated him completely. Their small movements felt magical to him, like the world was full of secrets he had not yet learned.

He smiled softly watching them flutter between the trees, his whole face bright with simple joy.

Then a weak voice called out behind him.

"My love."

Little Ivan turned quickly.

"Mama!"

Marina sat by the piano nearby.

She looked beautiful still, in a quiet, fading way that made her seem almost unreal.

But painfully fragile.

Like a person slowly disappearing before the eyes of the world without anyone being able to stop it.

Her body had become terribly thin. Her once healthy cheeks were hollow now, as if life had been gently pulled out of her. Her lips were dry and cracked. Even her beautiful eyes no longer carried the life they once had, only a tired softness that tried to stay strong for him.

The illness had stolen almost everything from her.

And despite his young age, little Ivan could already feel it in his small heart.

He could already sense that something was terribly wrong.

But Marina still smiled gently at him.

"Come here, my sweet boy," she whispered softly. "Let us play together today."

Little Ivan immediately nodded happily.

"Yes, Mama."

He hurried toward her with tiny excited steps, unaware of how fragile the moment truly was.

Marina carefully guided him onto the piano bench beside her. Her hands trembled slightly as she placed his little fingers over the keys, holding them as if she was trying to remember him through touch.

"Like this," she whispered softly.

Little Ivan watched carefully before pressing the keys gently.

A soft note filled the room.

Marina smiled warmly, a smile that carried both love and hidden sadness.

"Very good."

Little Ivan grinned proudly, his small heart full of joy.

The two of them played together quietly. Marina guided his little hands slowly and patiently while the morning light poured into the room around them, wrapping them in a soft glow that felt almost like peace itself.

For a moment everything felt peaceful.

Normal.

Then suddenly Marina started coughing.

At first it was light.

But it quickly became violent.

Painful.

Her body bent forward slightly as she coughed harder into her hand, struggling to hide what was happening inside her.

Little Ivan immediately looked up in fear.

"Mama?"

Marina quickly forced a smile despite the pain, trying to protect him from what he should not see.

"I’m alright, my love."

But the coughing would not stop.

It echoed painfully through the room, breaking the fragile silence.

Little Ivan stared at her with growing fear as she quickly reached for a handkerchief, covering her mouth while coughing harshly into it.

Then he saw it.

Blood.

Bright red blood stained the white cloth.

Marina quickly hid it with trembling hands.

Too late.

Little Ivan had already seen it.

His small face turned pale instantly, as if all color had drained away.

"Mama..." his tiny voice trembled. "Are you okay?"

Marina’s eyes filled with tears for just a second before she smiled again weakly, forcing her voice to stay calm.

"I’m fine, sweetheart."

But little Ivan suddenly started crying.

"Mama I’m scared," he sobbed softly, his voice breaking.

Marina’s expression broke immediately.

"Ivan..."

"I’m scared you’ll leave me," he cried harder. "I don’t like it here. It’s too big. I want to go home."

His tiny hands grabbed her dress tightly, holding on as if she could slip away at any moment.

"I don’t like it here Mama. Please don’t leave me. Please."

Marina immediately pulled him into her arms despite how weak she was, holding him as close as she could.

Tears slipped quietly down her face as she held him close, her body shaking slightly from both illness and emotion.

Even at four years old he already understood.

He already knew she was dying.

That was the cruelest part.

Marina shut her eyes tightly as she stroked his hair gently, trying to stay strong for just a little longer.

"Don’t worry, my sweet baby," she whispered shakily. "Mama will always be with you."

Her voice broke slightly.

"Mama will never leave you."

Little Ivan cried against her chest while Marina tried desperately not to cry with him, holding onto him like time itself was slipping away.

Slowly she pulled away just enough to wipe his tears, her hands trembling as she touched his face.

Then she forced another smile onto her face.

"Have you seen the library here?" she asked softly.

Little Ivan sniffled and shook his head.

"It has thousands of books," she whispered like she was sharing a secret meant only for him.

His eyes widened slightly.

"Thousands?"

Marina nodded weakly.

"And there is a secret room hidden inside."

Little Ivan’s sadness slowly faded into excitement.

"A secret room?"

"Yes," Marina whispered playfully. "I’ll show you."

Little Ivan quickly wiped his tears.

"Really?"

Marina smiled softly.

"Really."

She slowly tried standing up from the piano bench.

But the moment she did, her body lost strength completely, as if it had been taken away in an instant.

She grabbed the nearby seat quickly to stop herself from falling.

Little Ivan’s eyes widened in fear.

"Mama?"

Marina’s breathing became uneven, shallow and weak.

"I’m fine," she whispered weakly.

But she was not fine.

Not at all.

She tried standing again.

Then suddenly her body collapsed.

"Mama!"

Little Ivan rushed toward her as Marina fell to the floor unconscious.

His tiny hands shook her desperately.

"Mama!"

Tears poured down his face.

"Please wake up!"

His terrified screams echoed through the music room.

"Someone help my mama!"

"Mama!"

"Please!"

...Suddenly Ivan woke up violently.

His eyes snapped open.

His entire body was covered in sweat. His breathing came out harsh and uneven, as if he had just been pulled out of drowning water. Tears filled his eyes instantly as the nightmare crashed into reality around him.

For several moments he could not move.

The memory still felt real.

Too real.

His chest tightened painfully as fear spread through his body, heavy and suffocating.

Then only one thought entered his mind.

Lydia.

Ivan immediately sat up breathing heavily.

Fear swallowed him whole.

He had already lost the person who loved him most once before.

He could not lose Lydia too.

Not Lydia.

Not her.

He quickly stood up from the bed but his legs shook violently beneath him. His body felt weak from the nightmare and sleepless night, as if it could not carry his fear.

He stumbled forward and fell hard onto the floor.

But he barely noticed.

He pushed himself up immediately.

His trembling hands grabbed the nearest shirt carelessly before he rushed out of his chambers.

Servants in the hall quickly stepped aside in shock as Ivan moved through the palace almost frantically, as if something was chasing him.

His breathing was still uneven.

His heart pounded painfully against his chest.

The image of blood on Marina’s handkerchief kept flashing inside his mind again and again.

Then Lydia throwing up yesterday.

Fear consumed him more and more.

By the time he reached Lydia’s chambers, his hands were shaking badly.

He pushed the doors open quickly.

The room was empty except for servants cleaning quietly.

Everyone froze seeing him suddenly enter.

Ivan immediately spoke.

"Where is Lydia?"

Even his voice trembled.

The servants exchanged nervous looks.

One finally bowed slightly before answering.

"Her Highness is having breakfast at the terrace."

Before she could say anything else Ivan had already disappeared.

His footsteps echoed quickly through the halls.

His mind raced endlessly.

Please be alright.

Please.

He remembered her pale face yesterday.

The trembling in her body.

The way she hid her fear from him.

He needed to see her himself.

He needed to know she was safe.

Ivan finally reached the terrace.

Then he froze.

Lydia sat quietly at the table beneath the morning sunlight.

The breeze moved softly through her blonde hair. She looked beautiful beneath the golden morning light, almost unreal in her calmness.

Too beautiful.

For one brief moment Ivan felt relief.

Then Lydia suddenly coughed.

She quickly raised a handkerchief to her lips.

And Ivan saw it.

Red.

Bright red staining the cloth.

Blood.

His breathing stopped instantly.

The world around him seemed to disappear.

All he could see was Marina again.

Blood on white fabric.

Weak smiles.

Dying eyes.

Fear crashed into him so violently he almost staggered backward.

His greatest fear had just become reality.