The sun had set over Svetlana. The night sky stretched wide and heavy, covering everything in darkness. Stars tried to break through but even they looked faint, like they too had lost their strength. Ivan sat by the lake still, his body stiff and weary. His clothes were still damp though the spring breeze and the last warmth of the sun had dried them a little. But the cold in him was not from the water. It was from his heart.
He just sat there staring at the water as if the lake had swallowed everything he ever loved. His hands rested on his knees, his eyes glassy and swollen. He could hear the faint sound of instruments floating from the palace. Violins, flutes, laughter, clinking glasses. The world was moving on without him. Yet nothing mattered.
