The morning sun cast gentle rays through the windows of the palace as Lydia prepared to leave the only home she had known for years. Her heart felt heavy as she walked through the familiar halls one last time.
Inside the main hall, Lydia said her farewells to everyone. Elena hugged her tightly, her eyes wet with tears.
"I will miss you so much, Lydia," Elena said, her voice breaking slightly. "Who will help me in the kitchen now?"
Anya couldn't control her emotions and began sobbing openly. "Promise you'll write to us," she pleaded, holding Lydia's hands.
"I promise," Lydia replied, though she wasn't sure if she would be able to keep this promise.
Mikhail and Pyotr stood awkwardly, not knowing what to say. They were not men of many words, but their sad expressions spoke volumes.
"Take care of yourself, Miss Lydia," Mikhail finally managed, his deep voice unusually soft.
Even Daria and Galina, who had always been strict with Lydia, couldn't hide their emotions. They sobbed a little as they embraced her.
"Remember everything we taught you," Daria said, straightening Lydia's collar one last time.
Her uncle, however, didn't come out to say goodbye. His absence was noticeable and painful, like a cold shadow over the warm farewells from everyone else.
After saying goodbye to everyone in the main hall, Lydia went to her room. She moved around it slowly, taking one last look at everything – the bed where she had slept for years, the window where she had spent countless hours looking out at the grounds, the small desk where she had written her thoughts.
Galina came in while Lydia was lost in memories. "Your things have been packed," she said, gesturing to the trunks by the door. "Especially your books," she added with a knowing smile.
Lydia chuckled. Of course Galina would make sure her books were packed carefully. She had always encouraged Lydia's love of reading.
Galina's expression turned serious. "We will miss you so much, Lydia. This house won't be the same without you."
Lydia felt tears threatening to fall but held them back. "I'll miss all of you too."
As she came down the stairs with her small traveling bag, Lydia paused. She couldn't leave without saying goodbye to her uncle, no matter how difficult it might be. She turned toward his study and knocked gently on the door.
"Enter," came the gruff response from inside.
Alexander sat behind his large desk, papers spread before him. He didn't look up as Lydia entered.
"Uncle," Lydia began, her voice smaller than she intended. "I've come to say goodbye."
Rather than offering a warm farewell, Alexander remained cold. He finally looked up, his face showing no emotion. "You are not gone yet?" he asked harshly.
"I... I wanted to say goodbye properly," Lydia explained, stepping further into the room.
"I don't care," he replied bluntly. "You should go. After all, you wanted to leave, didn't you? Go and live your life as the grand duchess or whatever title awaits you. Leave and never return. This isn't your home anymore."
His words hurt Lydia deeply. "Do you hate me that much?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "All I came to do was say goodbye."
"You've said it," Alexander replied coldly. "Now go."
"You shouldn't worry," Lydia said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I'll never appear in front of you again. Goodbye, Uncle."
She turned and left his study, closing the door quietly behind her. Once in the hallway, the tears she had been holding back fell freely. She wiped them away quickly, not wanting anyone to see her crying.
Meanwhile, outside in the courtyard, Ivan had been waiting in the carriage for some time. Growing impatient, he stepped out to straighten his body and stretch his legs. Just as he was considering going inside to look for Lydia, he noticed a horse approaching rapidly.
It was Boris, riding at full speed toward the carriage. He pulled his horse to a stop near Ivan.
"I thought you weren't coming," Ivan said, relieved to see him.
"Did you find the girl?" Boris asked, slightly out of breath.
"Yes," Ivan replied simply.
At that moment, Lydia came out of the palace. She had wiped away her tears and composed herself, pretending that everything was fine. She smiled as she approached her cousins and the maids who had gathered outside to see her off. She embraced them once more.
"I'll visit soon," she promised, though in her heart, she knew it might be a lie. After her uncle's words, she wasn't sure she would ever return.
The small crowd waved as she walked toward the carriage. Boris tilted his head slightly toward her as Ivan asked, "Who is she?"
"Her," Boris responded simply, nodding in Lydia's direction.
Confusion crossed Ivan's face as Lydia approached them. "I've taken my belongings and said my farewells," she announced. "It's time to go."
Ivan seemed unable to speak, clearly confused by something. Boris said his own farewell to Lydia and rode back toward the palace, leaving her alone with the silent Ivan.
They climbed into the carriage, and the driver set the horses in motion. The palace – her home for so many years – slowly grew smaller in the distance until it disappeared altogether behind the tall trees.
The carriage ride was awfully quiet. The only sounds were the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves and the occasional rustle as Lydia turned a page in her book. She had chosen to read to avoid the uncomfortable silence.
Ivan sat across from her, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. He hadn't spoken a single word since they left. From time to time, Lydia couldn't help stealing glances at him, peaking through her book when she thought he wouldn't notice.
They traveled for hours as the landscape changed around them. The familiar forests and fields of home gave way to rolling hills and small villages Lydia had never seen before. As darkness began to fall, the temperature dropped, and Lydia pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
Finally, the driver called down to them. "We'll stop for the night! Too dangerous to continue in the dark. There's a good inn in the next town, a little far from Svetlana."
The town was small but charming, with buildings clustered around a central square. The inn was larger than Lydia had expected, its windows glowing warmly in the evening darkness.
Ivan jumped down from the carriage first and, after a moment's hesitation, offered his hand to help Lydia down. His touch was brief and impersonal.
"Wait here," he instructed before disappearing inside the inn.
After a few minutes, Ivan returned, looking slightly frustrated. "Come," he said. "I've arranged for rooms."
Inside, the inn was warm and clean. The innkeeper, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, led them up a narrow staircase.
"I requested two rooms," Ivan said firmly.
"Unfortunately, I'm out of rooms," the innkeeper replied with an apologetic smile. "I only have one left." She gave them a knowing look and added with a wink, "But you're husband and wife, so what's there in sharing a room? It's a nice one, too."
Before either could correct her assumption, she opened the door to reveal a neat room with a single large bed. There was also a table with two chairs by the window and a mirror hanging on the wall. Everything looked clean and comfortable, but Lydia's heart began to race at the thought of sharing such an intimate space with Ivan.
"This will have to do," Ivan said stiffly.
They entered the room, and Lydia stood awkwardly by the door as Ivan removed his jacket and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. The silence between them was uncomfortable.
A knock at the door startled them both. Lydia opened it to find the innkeeper carrying a tray of food.
"Thought you might be hungry after your journey," the woman said cheerfully, placing the tray on the table. "If you need anything else, feel free to ask."
"Thank you," Lydia said with genuine gratitude.
The innkeeper smiled and turned to leave, but not before adding, "Enjoy your evening."
Dinner was as quiet as their journey had been. The only sounds were the clink of utensils against plates. Lydia wanted desperately to break the silence but couldn't think of what to say.
As soon as Ivan finished eating, he stood up and moved to the bed. Without a word to Lydia, he lay down and seemed to fall asleep almost immediately.
Lydia sat at the table for a long time, watching him. She understood now that his silence and distance meant he had no intention of sharing the bed with her or even speaking with her more than necessary. The realization hurt more than she cared to admit.
She was hurting inside, feeling lonely and unsure about her future.
With a sigh, she gathered the dirty dishes. Perhaps some activity would distract her from the ache in her chest. She quietly left the room, careful not to disturb Ivan.
Ivan rose his head slightly to see that she was gone. He didn't say anything, just lying there with his thoughts.
Downstairs, Lydia handed the dishes to the innkeeper. "Thank you for the meal," she said politely.
"You're welcome, dear," the woman replied with a kind smile. "Everything all right up there?"
"Yes, thank you," Lydia lied. She didn't want to explain her complicated situation.
When she returned to the room, Ivan appeared to be fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb him or make the situation more awkward, Lydia pulled a chair to the window and sat down. Outside, the moon was bright, casting silver light over the small town. Stars dotted the sky, more than she had ever seen at home.
She sat by the window for a long time, thinking about all that had happened that day – leaving her home, her uncle's cold words, this strange journey with a man who barely acknowledged her existence. Eventually, her eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep, still sitting in the chair.
Morning arrived with bright sunlight streaming through the window. Lydia woke slowly, confused to find herself in the bed. She had no memory of moving there herself. Looking around the room, she noticed Ivan was gone.
"I must have sleepwalked to the bed during the night," she thought, sitting up and stretching.
Just then, the door opened and Ivan walked in. He was already fully dressed and looked ready to depart.
"Get ready," he said abruptly. "We're leaving now."
Lydia moved quickly, not wanting to delay their departure. She quickly washed her face, rinsed her mouth, and brushed her hair.
"I'm ready," she announced, gathering her small bag.
Their journey continued in silence. Hours passed as the carriage moved steadily forward. The landscape became more beautiful – hills and forests giving way to open countryside.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of uncomfortable silence, the driver announced that they had arrived at their destination. The carriage came to a stop in front of an impressive building.
It was the grand duke's palace at Svetlana. The sight took Lydia's breath away. The palace was nothing like she had hoped for – it was much more beautiful. The elegant building stood majestically against the blue sky, surrounded by perfectly maintained gardens. The scene was serene and peaceful, almost dreamlike.
Lydia stared in wonder at what would be her new home. Despite all the pain of leaving and the uncertainty of her future, she couldn't help feeling a small spark of hope at the beauty of Svetlana.