Lydia woke up at dawn. Her eyes opened slowly to the cold light of morning. She hadn't slept much through the night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ivan's face—his broken expression, the way his voice cracked with pain, the tears he tried so hard to hide. Her chest felt heavy, and no matter how much she tossed and turned, the ache in her heart wouldn't go away.
She sat up in bed and pulled the thick blanket around her shoulders. The palace was quiet at this hour. She walked slowly to the window and sat down, resting her cheek against the cold glass. Outside, the snow glowed softly under the early light. The sun was rising behind the trees, casting a golden hue over the icy ground. It was beautiful. So still, so peaceful. But somehow, it only made her cry.
Tears slid down her cheeks as she looked at the gentle sky. She wondered where Ivan was. Had he slept at all? Was he hurting alone somewhere, like she was?
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