20.
In the days following the incident, Ivan spent sunrise to sunset gathering food and supplies to stock for winter, exhausting himself physically just to make sure they had more than enough to last them. And while he was out, Francis would be back at his home keeping an eye on Justine. And when the Frenchman couldn't, Ludwig did.
Justine had been unconscious for well over a couple of weeks now, and was showing no signs of waking up any time soon. The doctor, much to Ivan's dismay, had informed him of the extent of the girl's injuries. Other than her now reset leg, broken ribs, and sprained wrists (from which she most likely landed on), horse related accidents were one of the leading causes of death to innocent parties. Other than keeping her comfortable and staying attentive, there wasn't much Ivan could do except pray for a miracle and hope for the best.
And every night he did.
On his knees, Ivan prayed to god almighty that he woke Justine up. That he gave her back to him.
Lillian had stopped by on more than one occasion, trying to see him, but Ivan would have none of it. Every time he so much as heard her breathe he got outraged.
This was, after all, her fault.
Lillian had found Ivan in his study, nerves wrecked, and offered to stay and help him. She never felt guilty for anything, after all, and Ivan called her on her bullshit. She simply replied with she was doing it for him and no other reason. Not the fact that she had almost cost someone innocent their life. It was obvious, by Lillian's tone of voice and lack of effort, that she still didn't give a rats ass that Justine was holed up in her room unconscious.
"I do not even see why you care so damn much!" Lillian suddenly snapped, out of annoyance. She just couldn't wrap her mind around why Ivan was so attached to a slave of all people. Or either she could and just didn't want to face the truth.
Most likely the latter.
Ivan, wallowing in concern and anger, didn't bother to answer her. So the woman continued her tyrannical rant.
"You have been so different since you brought her here!" Said Lillian. "You have done nothing but cater to her every will, and it is sickening! She should have died out there! Then perhaps you would have snapped out of this trance she has enthralled you in!"
"You hold your tongue!" Ivan hissed, eyes narrowed as he got to his feet. He towered over Lillian easily.
Lillian arched a thin, red brow. The puzzle pieces slowly but surely fell into place. "You are in love with her, aren't you?' The words burned her mouth like hot bile. The realization struck her like a bold of lightening. How could she not have noticed? "You are."
Lillian didn't wait for Ivan to answer, not that he would in the first place. She knew the knight prided himself on keeping his feelings to himself, even if that meant lying to himself and others. Even if others very well knew. The woman laughed, bittersweet and mocking.
"This is just… I do not even have words!" She chuckled. "This is like history repeating itself in some twisted little cycle. Yet I am not surprised, I just knew something like this would happen sooner or later. Her mother did it, and it ruined my mother's life and that drove her to her death. So I had a feeling in the pit of my gut that I would be next… that she would ruin me." Lillian pushed Ivan back against the nearest wall, catching the man by surprise, as she roughly gripped his chin. "Only I am not my mother, and I will be damned if I let that slave ruin my life again." Her voice was cold, thick with malice. "See, I get what and who I want, Ivan. I wanted you, therefore I got you. And I do not plan on letting you go so easily." Her face softened. "I am willing to forgive this little… bump in our road, I am a forgiving woman. But this behavior cannot, and will not, go unpunished." She gripped his chin tighter, her nails broke the skin easily. "I am going to have that little whore of yours stripped, whipped, and burned at the stake."
Ivan pushed her away from him, Lillian stumbled a few steps before regaining her ground, her smile still in place.
"To get to you, I will have to get to her!" Lillian pointed, voice raised. "And I will make sure that bitch burns for everything she has done!"
"You will not touch her!" Ivan seethed, fists trembling.
"Oh?" Lillian challenged. "Watch me." She turned on her heels, sparing him one last dangerous glance. "I will take everything you hold dear, my sweet. Until there is nothing left but a gaping hole for my love to fill. You have become weak, and it is not a good look on you. But I will fix that, one dead body at a time."
The Lillian Ivan once knew was gone, replaced by a monster that sought blood for being wronged. Ivan watched as she took her leave, the constant patter of her departing feet filled the silent void, creeping up his spine and into the marrow of his bones.
For the first time, Ivan was afraid. Not for himself, but for Justine. For his sisters, his mother. He knew Lillian wouldn't stop with just killing Justine. She would cross the ocean to Paris and find his sisters. She would find her way to Russian and kill his mother too. Lillian would erase everyone that stood in her way until there was no one left in his life except for her.
Anyone Lillian could feel threatened by had to go.
Ivan had no idea what to do now, other than protect those close to him at all costs. Quickly, he rushed down the stairs, peaking into Justine's room to check on her. She hadn't moved since he last positioned her, she still wasn't awake. And that was better than her being dead so this would just have to do. He motioned over to give her forehead a light kiss.
"It is going to be alright, dorogoy. I will not let Lillian harm you again, I swear that on my life." Ivan whispered, brushing hair back from her face. He spared her one last, longing glance before leaving.
Normally Ivan wouldn't ask for help. Asking for help meant weakness, and he was anything but. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and he needed to get to Francis and the others. He needed their help.