Chapter 98: Fear And Confessions
Flashback
The night had been quiet, too quiet. A sharp chill floated in the air, not from the snow outside, but from something else—something wrong. The stillness pressed on the walls like a held breath. Boris had just arrived at the palace at Svetlana from the capital. He dismounted quickly, brushing the snow off his coat as he noticed something odd. Only one guard stood by the gate. The wind howled softly behind him, as if trying to warn him.
His steps slowed as he walked over. "Where is the second guard?" he asked, his voice calm but alert, though his fingers twitched slightly near the hilt of his sword.
The guard straightened, caught off guard by the question. "I... I don’t know, sir. He was here just minutes ago. He left suddenly." The guard’s eyes shifted nervously, betraying his unease.
That was all Boris needed to hear. Something wasn’t right. The air felt wrong—too still, too quiet, as if the palace itself was holding its breath.
He didn’t wait for more. He rushed inside, his boots echoing sharply through the halls of the palace. The walls seemed to close in around him with every step.
Upstairs, Lydia lay in her bed. Her eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. Her tears had dried on her cheeks, leaving behind the heavy weight of exhaustion. She wasn’t asleep. She didn’t feel safe enough to be. Her body was tired, but her mind was racing with fear.
Then she heard it—a noise. Sharp. Quick. Unnatural. Her body went still. It wasn’t the creak of furniture or the whisper of wind. It was human. Intentional.
She sat up quietly, her heart pounding. Her bare feet touched the cold marble floor as she tiptoed to the door. She didn’t open it, but bent gently to peek through the keyhole. Her breath caught in her throat.
What she saw made her heart stop. Her entire body locked in place, frozen in disbelief.
Anatoly. Killing a guard. The man’s body dropped silently, like a sack of grain.
Her hand flew to her mouth to stop a scream. She backed away, eyes wide with panic. Her thoughts raced. Her body moved on instinct. She spotted a heavy vase on the table near the fireplace. It was one of the few strong things she could find. Her fingers wrapped around it tightly, knuckles pale.