The sun rose, bright and bold, spilling golden light into Ivan's chambers. The rays cut through the curtains and warmed the air, chasing away the shadows of the long night. It was a new day, but for Lydia it did not feel new. Her body was sore from the events of the day before, and her heart still carried the weight of it all.
She stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering open, and the first thing she saw was Ivan sleeping beside her. His face was calm, his breath even, his strong frame still. He looked at peace, but the sight of him only stirred something sharp in her chest. Annoyance. Bitterness. A strange mix of longing and anger that she could not name.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she turned her head away from him. She hated that she noticed how handsome he looked when he slept, how the morning light traced his jaw and softened the harshness of his features. She hated that he could sleep so soundly while she had cried herself dry only hours ago.
