The Bride Of The Devil-Chapter 85: The Message In The Wind Pt2

Velinsk – Around Midnight

The night was bitter and still.

Inside the dimly lit office, General Nikolai sat at his desk, his face half-shadowed by the soft glow of the candle beside him. The air was cold, creeping in through the cracks in the window, but he didn’t seem to notice. He had been sitting there for hours, reading through papers, scanning names, updates, and maps. His back was stiff. His eyes tired.

A soldier stood across from him, his voice quiet and respectful as he gave a report of the patrol. "Nothing suspicious near the northern wall, sir. Just deer tracks, and one of the towers needs repair."

Nikolai didn’t lift his head. He nodded slowly, still reading. "We’ll send men to the tower in the morning."

But then—flutter. A soft sound, gentle but clear, broke through the silence. Both men looked toward the window.

A pigeon had flown in and landed neatly on the bird rail.

Nikolai stood up immediately, his tired eyes now alert. He walked over to it and carefully took the bird into his hands. It trembled slightly from the cold. With practiced fingers, he untied the small scroll from its leg and handed the bird to the soldier.

"Keep it warm," he said without looking back.

He unrolled the message and read it quickly.

His eyes narrowed.

"Ruslan is alive. I need your help."

That was all.

Nikolai frowned.

"That’s strange," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Very unlike His Highness to be this brief."

Something about the message felt off. The wording. The tone. The emptiness of it. Nikolai brought it closer to his face... and that’s when he caught it — a bitter smell.

He paused.

His expression changed.

"Vinegar," he murmured.

He stepped back to his desk, picked up the parchment again, and held it carefully over the candle. The flame danced below the paper, and slowly—very slowly—more letters began to appear.

They were faint. Brownish. Uneven. But clear enough.

"Help me find his weakness."

And then it stopped. The message ended there.

Nikolai stared at it for a long moment. Then he sat back in his chair, lost in thought.

Why would Ivan write like this?

Why hide part of the message?

Why say some things in ink, and others in vinegar?

The soldier, still holding the pigeon in his gloved hands, cleared his throat softly. "Sir," he said, "could it be... maybe he’s being watched?"

Nikolai looked up, slowly.

The young man continued, thinking out loud now. "Maybe someone else is reading his messages. Maybe... maybe he only wanted one part to be seen."

Nikolai nodded slowly, his mind racing.

"If he had written the whole message in ink," he said, "and someone—Ruslan—read it, he’d know what Ivan is trying to do."

He stood up again and paced to the window.

"But if he had written it all in vinegar, it might’ve been too obvious something was hidden. Ruslan would’ve noticed. And then he’d protect whatever secret Ivan was chasing... even more."

He turned and looked at the message again.

"No," he said quietly, "this was smart. Show him just enough. Keep the rest hidden. Because if Ruslan knows his weakness is being hunted, he’ll lock it down."

The soldier shifted his weight. "Are you going to reply, sir?"

Nikolai didn’t answer right away. He stared at the note, as if trying to read something between the lines that wasn’t even written.

Then he picked up a fresh slip of paper and quickly scribbled a message. Short and vague. He didn’t say much.

He tied the note to the pigeon’s leg, walked to the window, and gently released it into the night sky.

The bird took off, its wings cutting through the cold air, disappearing into the darkness.

The soldier blinked, confused. "Sir, I don’t mean to question you but... If His Highness went through all that trouble to hide his message... isn’t it dangerous to send one back? What if they intercept it?"

Nikolai’s lips curved into a small smile.

"That’s exactly what I want."

The soldier’s brows knitted. "You want them to see your reply?"

"Yes," Nikolai said, stepping back from the window. "Because sometimes... letting your enemy see something is better than hiding it. Especially when you want them to look the wrong way."

He walked to the far corner of the room, where a tall cage sat under a blanket. He pulled it back gently.

Inside was a white owl, its large golden eyes blinking slowly.

Nikolai stared at it for a long time. A quiet, knowing smile formed on his face.

---

Back in Svetlana, Ivan sat alone in his study. The fire beside him had burned low. He hadn’t moved in hours.

He leaned over a table scattered with maps, military positions, scribbled notes, and torn pieces of old messages. His hands rested over one of the maps, but his mind was far away.

His jaw tightened. His eyes looked sharp but tired.

He whispered under his breath, "General Petrov knows what to do."

He stood up slowly and walked through the quiet halls of the palace. Not many were awake. It was deep in the night.

He reached the tower, opened a small window, and let the freezing wind in.

Then he turned.

His feet carried him to one place.

Lydia’s room.

The door was unlocked. He opened it carefully and stepped inside.

The room was dark except for the faintest light from a candle. She lay there, curled slightly, asleep in the middle of the bed. Her hair was spread across the pillow, her breathing soft and peaceful.

Ivan stood there for a moment, just watching her.

So much had happened. So many lies. So much danger. But somehow, in this moment, looking at her asleep... he felt calm.

He walked to her bed, sat down quietly beside her, and slowly reached out.

He touched her hair, brushing it gently away from her face. His hand trembled a little.

He kept his hand in her hair, stroking it gently.

And there, next to her... sleep finally pulled him under too.

---

Far from them, in Svetlana, out in the forest near the palace, the wind was cruel and sharp.

Ruslan and Anatoly sat by a fire that barely gave them warmth. The woods around them were silent. The stars above them bright and cold.

Ruslan had been standing watch, barely blinking. His eyes were tired, but his mind was still awake.

Suddenly, a sound in the sky.

A pigeon.

He moved quickly. Without hesitation, he pulled his bow and fired.

The arrow hit its mark. The bird dropped like a stone.

Ruslan picked it up, tore the message free, and read it.

"I will look into it. In the meantime, I will prepare some soldiers to come to the palace for more security."

He laughed.

"Coward," he said bitterly. "Of course he hides behind soldiers."

His body ached from standing so long, but he didn’t sit.

He turned to Anatoly.

"Stay alert. I’m sure His Highness and General Petrov will try again. If you see any birds — pigeons, doves, I don’t care — shoot them down. I want no more surprises."

Anatoly nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

Ruslan gave one last look at the sky, then walked off to get some rest.

Anatoly stayed.

He sat for hours, shivering, struggling not to fall asleep. His eyes closed more than once, but he snapped them open each time.

The sky began to lighten. Dawn was coming.

Still—nothing.

No pigeons. No doves. Just silence.

Then, a soft shadow passed across the sky.

A large white owl, wings stretched wide, flew smoothly above him.

Anatoly barely looked.

It was just another owl. There had been many that night. They hunted at night and returned before dawn. It meant nothing to him.

He didn’t raise his bow. Didn’t blink twice.

He sat there, half asleep, never knowing...

The real message had just flown past him.

Read 𝓁atest chapters at fr(e)ewebnov𝒆l.com Only