Chapter 260: Silence And Guilt

"Your Highness."

"Your Highness."

The voice reached Lydia’s ears, but she barely heard it.

She was standing there, staring at Ivan.

"Your Highness."

Anna whispered her name again.

Lydia finally snapped back to reality.

She blinked and quickly lowered her eyes.

"Your Highness."

She bowed politely to Ivan.

Ivan stared at her.

His lips parted slightly as though he wanted to say something.

But nothing came out.

For a few seconds, he simply looked at her.

Then he gave a small nod.

"Your Highness."

His voice was quiet.

That was all.

Lydia straightened.

Neither of them said anything else.

They simply walked away together.

The walk to the dining room was painfully quiet.

Their footsteps were the only thing that could be heard in the long hallway.

Lydia kept her eyes ahead.

Ivan walked beside her.

Neither of them looked at the other.

Yet both were painfully aware of the other’s presence.

Lydia could still remember his sword being pointed at her.

She could still remember the look on his face.

And Ivan could not forget the sight of Lydia standing in front of him.

He had almost hurt her.

Even though he knew he had stopped in time, the thought still made his chest tighten.

When they reached the dining room, the servants immediately opened the doors.

The large dining table had already been prepared.

A feast covered the table.

There were roasted meats, fresh bread, fruits, vegetables, pastries, soups, and several other dishes prepared for the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess.

The servants helped Lydia into her seat.

Ivan was seated on the other side of the table.

They were not sitting close together.

There was enough distance between them that they could hardly speak without raising their voices.

Once they were seated, the servants stepped back.

And then...

Silence.

Complete silence.

Lydia looked down at her plate.

Ivan sat quietly.

The servants stood around them, waiting.

They were already prepared for what they thought would happen.

The last dinner between the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess had been terrible.

Lydia had spent most of the meal throwing cold words at Ivan.

Ivan had barely responded.

Everyone had been uncomfortable.

So naturally, the servants expected tonight to be the same.

Perhaps even worse.

But nothing happened.

Lydia did not say anything.

Ivan did not say anything.

The silence simply continued.

The servants exchanged nervous glances.

Xena slowly leaned toward Anna.

"Is it me," she whispered, "or is this worse than the last time?"

Anna looked at her.

Xena glanced carefully at the couple.

"At least last time Her Highness was being mean."

She lowered her voice even more.

"Now they aren’t even saying anything."

Anna tried not to smile.

"Be quiet."

"I’m only saying..."

"Xena."

"Fine."

Both women immediately returned their attention to the table.

Lydia heard them.

She pretended she didn’t.

She picked up her fork.

She wanted to say something.

Anything.

She could ask Ivan how his training was.

She could ask if his arm hurt.

She could even ask why he had pointed a sword at her earlier.

But every question died before it reached her lips.

What was she supposed to say to him?

Are you okay?

No.

That sounded too caring.

Why were you shaking earlier?

Absolutely not.

She had already spent enough time thinking about him.

She wasn’t going to make it worse.

Across the table, Ivan had no intention of starting a conversation either.

He simply looked at her.

Quietly.

He watched her pick up her fork.

He watched her take a small amount of food.

He watched her eat.

He wanted to speak.

He wanted to ask whether she was feeling better.

He wanted to ask if she had eaten enough.

He wanted to ask if she had been sleeping well.

But he knew better.

He had already seen how cold she became whenever he showed concern.

So he remained silent.

The only sounds in the dining room were the soft clinking of plates and cutlery.

The servants moved carefully around the table.

One servant stepped forward and reached for Ivan’s wine glass.

He was about to pour when Ivan quietly stopped him.

"I’m fine."

The servant immediately froze.

Ivan looked at the bottle.

"I don’t need it."

The servant bowed.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Katherine, who was helping supervise the dinner, quickly spoke.

"It’s fine."

Lydia looked up.

Katherine smiled.

"It’s only fruit wine, Your Highness. There is no alcohol in it."

Lydia’s eyebrows pulled together slightly.

She looked at Ivan.

Then at the bottle.

Then back at Katherine.

"No alcohol?"

Katherine nodded.

"Yes."

Lydia was confused.

She had not paid much attention to Ivan during their previous dinner.

She had been too angry to notice what he was drinking.

But this was the first time she had heard that he did not drink alcohol.

And something about it bothered her.

She remembered him from three years ago.

He used to drink.

She knew that.

Then Katherine’s words from earlier came back to her.

He drank every day.

It was as though he wanted to destroy himself.

He used to drink himself to sleep.

Lydia’s fingers tightened around her fork.

Three months ago.

That was when everything had changed.

That was when she had left.

That was when he had believed he had slept with Tatiana.

That was when everything between them had fallen apart.

Lydia slowly lowered her eyes.

Maybe he had stopped drinking after that.

Maybe it was guilt.

Maybe he blamed himself for everything.

Her grip on the fork became tighter.

Why did that hurt?

She had wanted him to suffer.

Hadn’t she?

She had spent months carrying pain that he had caused.

She had cried because of him.

She had been abandoned by the man she loved.

Her child had died.

Her dreams had died with him.

She had been left alone with all that pain.

So why should she feel sorry for him?

Why should it hurt her to hear that he was suffering too?

Lydia’s chest tightened.

He deserves it.

She silently repeated the words.

He deserves to suffer.

She looked at Ivan again.

He was quietly eating.

His face looked tired.

There were faint shadows beneath his eyes.

His expression was calm, but Lydia could see the exhaustion.

She immediately looked away.

No.

She could not do this.

She couldn’t start feeling sorry for him now.

Not after everything.

Her fingers slowly loosened around the fork.

She took a breath.

Don’t feel guilty.

Don’t.