Lidiya Witchain - the forgotten bride

Shadows of the Past

The air grew thick with grief as Oswen cradled his father's lifeless body, his anguished cries echoing through the serene landscape of Roxana. Lidiya felt as if the world around her was collapsing, the vibrant colors of the orchard fading into shades of grey.

"Oswen," she whispered, stepping closer but unsure how to comfort him. "I'm so sorry."

His eyes blazed with a mix of fury and sorrow as he looked up at her. "How could this happen? He was just here yesterday, laughing and dancing at our wedding!" His voice trembled, the facade of control breaking under the weight of grief. His mother also entered and started crying.

As mother and son stood together, Lidiya felt like an outsider, a spectator to their grief. She watched as they mourned, but deep within her, a sense of dread lingered. The darkness that had settled over their family felt all too real, and she feared what would come next.

"Maybe... maybe he went for a walk and slipped?" Lidiya suggested, desperate to find some logic in the chaos.

Oswen shook his head vehemently, tears streaming down his face. "No! This isn't an accident. Someone did this!" He looked around, as if expecting to see a hidden assailant lurking among the trees. "We need to tell the villagers."

"Oswen," Lidiya said softly, trying to pull him back from the edge of despair. "Let's just-"

"No!" he shouted, standing up abruptly, water dripping from his clothes. "You don't understand! I won't let my family get destroyed like this! I'll find out who did this!"

"Wait!" Lidiya pleaded, grabbing his arm.
He pulled away from her grasp, breathing heavily, the weight of grief and anger fueling his every move. With that, Oswen stormed off, leaving Lidiya standing alone by the pond. She felt a wave of helplessness wash over her. The vibrant life she had envisioned in Roxana had taken a dark turn, and she was at the center of it, tangled in a web of chaos that she could not escape.

---

As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the land, Lidiya returned to the estate. She felt lost in her thoughts, replaying the horror of the day in her mind. The once-grand home now felt suffocating, each room echoing with silence.

The next few days passed in a haze of grief and confusion. The village of Roxana came together to mourn the loss of Oswen's father, but beneath the surface, whispers of suspicion and fear rippled through the community.

Lidiya felt like a ghost in her own home, the walls closing in around her as she tried to make sense of it all. Oswen had become distant, consumed by anger and the need for vengeance. She watched him move through the house like a storm, his once-charming demeanor replaced by a dark intensity.

One evening, she found him in the study, staring out the window at the fading light. The air was thick with tension, and she hesitated before entering.

"Oswen," she began softly, but he didn't respond.

"Why are you here, Lidiya?" he asked, his tone sharp. "This is no place for you."

"I'm your wife," she reminded him gently. "I want to help."

He turned to face her, eyes blazing. "Help? You think you can help me find the one who took my father's life? You think I need your pity?"

"No," she replied, taking a step closer. "But we need to talk. You can't do this alone."

"I don't need anyone," he snapped. "

With that, he turned away, and Lidiya felt the tears prick at her eyes. She was desperate to reach him, to pull him back from the edge, but she felt powerless against his rage.