Ivan was still seated in his chambers, staring out the window. The sky was heavy with gray clouds, and soft flakes of snow fell like ash from the heavens. The silence in the room was deep, almost suffocating. He didn't move. He hadn't moved in hours.
A quiet knock came.
He didn't answer.
The door creaked open, and Tatiana stepped inside gently. She closed the door behind her and stood for a moment, looking at him. He didn't turn to her. He sat like a statue, the only movement coming from the slow rise and fall of his chest.
"You've been in here all day, Your Highness," she said softly.
"I like the silence," he replied, his voice distant.
Tatiana took slow steps forward. "She's hurting. And so are you. Why are you doing this to both of you?"
He still didn't turn. "Because she looks at me like I'm something good. Like I'm a man worth loving. Like I'm a hero."
