The sun rose quietly over the palace. Its light came through the curtains like soft gold, touching the edges of the large bed where Lydia and Ivan lay. Ivan was fast asleep, breathing gently. He looked so peaceful. So still. His face was calm, almost like a child's.
But Lydia couldn't sleep. Not really. Her eyes had barely closed all night.
She laid beside him with her eyes open, staring at his face. Her chest felt heavy. Her heart ached for him. He had already been through so much. She didn't want to add more pain to the one he already carried. But she had to. She had no choice. Tonight, she was going to tell him everything about her deal with Olga.
The thought made her stomach twist with fear. She was scared. Not just of his reaction. But of what might happen next. Ruslan was alive. Somewhere out there. Watching. Waiting. She didn't know what he would do or when he would strike. The uncertainty was eating her up from the inside.
