The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 37: Even the Devil Feels Love

Night had fallen. The castle stood still and quiet under the dark sky, with only the soft glow of lanterns lighting its stone halls. Lydia stepped out of her bathing room, her long golden hair damp and loose around her shoulders. Her maids had dressed her in a beautiful peach-colored gown that made her look even more delicate than she already was. The fabric shimmered slightly under the candlelight, matching the small, flickering hope in her heart.

She walked down the hallway, her heart beating a little faster with each step, hoping she would see him again—just like the night before. She remembered how Ivan had joined her at the dining table unexpectedly. Just sitting near him, even in silence, had filled her with warmth.

She took her seat at the large dining table, her eyes nervously flicking toward the door every now and then. Servants brought her food—steaming soups, warm bread, and grilled meats—but she barely looked at them. Her attention was only on the door. Each time it creaked slightly, her heart jumped. But it was always a servant, never him.

Minutes turned into hours.

She sat there for almost three hours, silently waiting. Her shoulders drooped as time passed, and the hope in her eyes slowly faded. Her fingers played with the spoon, pushing food around her plate, but never lifting it to her mouth. Her smile had long disappeared.

Finally, when she could no longer pretend, she stood from the table, her heart heavy.

Just then, the door opened.

Her heart leapt again. She quickly sat back, fixing her hair and dress, her eyes wide with hope.

But it wasn’t Ivan.

It was Katherine.

The older woman looked at her gently. "Your Highness... you’ve stayed a long time."

Lydia gave her a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She looked down and whispered, more to herself than to Katherine, "He’s not coming."

And with that, she stood again, this time for good, and left the dining hall.

Katherine noticed the untouched plates and the sadness written all over her young mistress’s face. "But... you haven’t eaten anything," she said softly.

"I’m not hungry," Lydia replied, her voice barely audible.

She returned to her chambers and collapsed on her bed, still dressed in the beautiful gown she had worn just for him. Her body was exhausted, but her heart felt heavier. She didn’t even have the strength to cry. What was the point? She already knew the truth.

He wasn’t coming. He never would.

Even when she tried to stop hoping, the pain still came. Slowly, sleep pulled her under.

In another part of the castle, Ivan sat in his chambers. Alone. Silent. Still.

He hadn’t gone downstairs. He hadn’t seen her. He had stayed in bed, staring at nothing.

He knew she would be waiting. He knew it would hurt her. And it broke him.

But he told himself it was better this way. Staying away from her would keep her safe. She didn’t belong in his world, and the more he stayed away, the more he believed she would give up on him. Maybe that was best. Maybe that would protect her.

Even if it meant tearing his own heart to pieces.

The next morning came slowly, dragging its sorrow with the light.

Lydia opened her eyes. Her gaze immediately went to the window, where the same tree stood proudly outside. She looked up at the nest perched on one of its branches. The birds were there again—huddled together, keeping their tiny eggs warm from the cold.

She stared at them for a long time.

Even the birds had each other.

Why didn’t she?

The ache in her chest returned.

Her maids came in with cheerful greetings, trying to lift the mood. They bathed her gently and dressed her in a soft cream-colored gown that made her look graceful and gentle. But no dress could hide the sadness in her eyes.

Soon she was in the dining hall again, seated at the same spot.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Her eyes stayed glued to the door, just like the night before. But as the minutes passed, her hands grew cold. She tried to sip water, tried to stay calm, but her stomach was too tight with sadness.

After thirty minutes of waiting, she couldn’t hold it anymore.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

She quickly wiped it away, not wanting anyone to see.

Just then, a knock came on the door. She sat up and forced a small smile. Maybe it was him.

"Come in," she said quickly.

But again, it wasn’t him.

It was Boris.

He walked in cheerfully, as always, his energy filling the room. He greeted her with a wide grin and took his seat at the table.

"Where’s that husband of yours hiding again?" he joked, clearly also confused by Ivan’s absence.

Lydia smiled faintly, trying hard to hide her disappointment. Her eyes were slightly red, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice. She took a few bites of food, even though she could barely swallow.

Boris, sensing something off, didn’t say much after that. He continued eating, but glanced at her from time to time, his usual chatter missing.

When breakfast ended, Lydia walked slowly to the library. She took out a book and sat by the window, but the words made no sense to her. Her eyes kept moving over the same sentence again and again, but nothing entered her mind.

All she could think about was him.

Where was he? Why didn’t he come? Was she really that unwanted?

She felt like she was going mad.

And in his study, Ivan felt the same. He buried himself in reports, reading them over and over just to distract himself. But nothing worked. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Every time the wind blew against the windows, he thought it was her footsteps.

But he didn’t move.

Night came again.

Lydia dressed and went down for dinner. Boris was there again, stuffing his face and talking about something funny that had happened in town. But Lydia only gave half-smiles. Her eyes kept flicking to the door.

Ivan never came.

Again.

She ate a few bites, then excused herself quietly and returned to her room.

Her maids came in to help her get ready for bed. They noticed her quietness, her pale face, and the way she stared blankly at the wall.

One of them tried to cheer her up. "Your Highness, the birds on the tree outside are so beautiful. They were singing today—"

That was it.

That one sentence shattered Lydia’s control.

She broke down in tears.

The maids panicked, rushing to her side. "What’s wrong, Your Highness?"

"I... I just don’t understand..." Lydia sobbed, her voice shaking. "Why do I have to be treated like this? What did I do wrong?"

Outside the door, Ivan had just arrived. The door was slightly open. He had come to see her, finally unable to take it anymore. He missed her so badly he couldn’t breathe.

But then he froze.

He heard her crying.

"I feel so unwanted... so unloved..." she said through sobs. "Even animals experience love... Why can’t I? Why am I always alone? Ever since my parents died... I’ve had no one."

Her voice broke. "I know he’ll never love me... I know. But I can’t help but hope... just a little... that one day, he might think of me. Even if it’s just for a moment."

Ivan’s chest tightened. frёewebηovel.cѳm

Inside, the maids tried to comfort her. "It’s okay, Your Highness. He’ll come around."

"No, he won’t," she whispered.

She eventually cried herself to sleep. Her cheeks were still wet with tears. The maids pulled the blanket over her and quietly left.

Ivan, now hiding behind a pillar so they wouldn’t see him, listened to their whispers.

"Poor girl," one said. "She’s in love with the devil."

"She should be glad he ignores her," said another. "I don’t know what she’s crying about."

"Don’t be cruel," said the first. "He’s still her husband. It’s not her fault she was forced to marry him."

"If you ask me," the second maid muttered, "he doesn’t deserve her. She’s kind and beautiful... and he’s just..."

Ivan heard it all.

And said nothing.

Because they were right.

He didn’t deserve her. They knew it and so did he.

When the maids were long gone, he returned. He stood at her door, quietly staring at her sleeping form. Her eyes were swollen. Her breath was unsteady. Her face was still stained with sadness.

He walked in silently and reached toward her. Carefully, he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders so she wouldn’t catch a cold. Then, his fingers brushed her cheek.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"I’m sorry for everything..." he whispered.

Then he put out the lamp and turned to leave. As he did, he didn’t notice Katherine standing in the shadows, watching everything with quiet eyes.

She said nothing.