The carriage moved slowly through the quiet morning streets of the capital, heading towards the road that led back to Svetlana. It was still very early. The sun had only just begun to rise, casting a soft pale light on the cobbled roads. Stalls were just opening. Some shopkeepers yawned as they lifted their shutters. A few carts passed, carrying bread or hay. But mostly, the streets were empty.
Inside the carriage, everything was still.
Lydia sat with her hands on her lap, her fingers twisting the fabric of her gown. Her eyes stared at nothing. She looked calm on the outside, but her mind was far from quiet. Thoughts kept swirling in her head, each one crashing into the next like waves.
She kept thinking about Ivan's face when Vladimir apologized. The anger in his voice. The pain in his eyes. And then Olga. Her soft smile. Her calm threat. You will keep your promise, right? I expect a report by month end.
The words rang over and over again in Lydia's ears. Her chest felt tight.
