The sun had completely set, and night had already covered the sky in darkness.
Most of the palace had fallen quiet, but Ivan remained in the guard training ground, standing alone with a bow in his hand. He pulled the string back, took a breath, and released it. The arrow flew through the air and struck the target.
Ivan reached for another arrow, drew the string again, and released. Another arrow hit the target.
He kept going, though he wasn't really training. He was trying to distract himself from everything on his mind: Tatiana's miscarriage, the rumors that would soon spread through the palace, the Senate, and Lydia.
Especially Lydia.
Ivan lowered the bow and closed his eyes. He could already imagine the look on her face when he told her he wanted a divorce. She would be hurt; he knew that. She might even hate him, but perhaps that would be better. At least, eventually, she would be free from him.
He opened his eyes, picked up another arrow, and pulled the string back.
Thud.
