CHAPTER 455: FEELING

Everything unfolded exactly as Astrid had anticipated. After Amalia’s identity was officially revealed at the morning court session by the Emperor himself, many nobles immediately began shifting their strategies, frequently sending invitations to them in hopes of strengthening ties before the new Emperor’s coronation, ensuring their family’s continued prosperity.

Among them, the former Crown Prince’s faction showed particular enthusiasm. In their eyes, since the actual candidate they supported had shifted from Lucas to Amalia, all previous agreements and terms could potentially change. Under such circumstances, they had to ensure their status wouldn’t decline due to the shift in imperial succession.

The most obvious manifestation of this unease was that Amalia became truly much busier than before. During the day, apart from meal times, Astrid barely saw her. After naps, Amalia will quickly leave with Mr. Trin, heading to some noble household to exchange political views.

As the future Emperor elevated by the Third Princess herself, Amalia naturally became the ideal person to reassure these anxious nobles.

Of course, the capital was vast. It wasn’t realistic for one person to handle all these matters within seven days. Astrid also had to occasionally go out and socialize, using her position as leader of the new Emperor’s faction to appropriately share some pressure from Amalia.

If previously the two sisters spent about twenty-two out of twenty-four hours together, now that time had been halved.

Mostly, they will return to their chambers after dinner, exchange notes about the day’s gains, then it will be time to wash up and go to bed, holding each other as they sleep.

Amalia hadn’t even ascended the throne yet, and things were already this busy. Seeing one leaf fall to know autumn has arrived; observing one spot to understand the whole leopard, how overwhelmingly busy this future Empress would be was already evident.

In the afternoon, returning to the chambers from Lydia’s residence, Astrid removed her diamond-studded high heels and sat down at her desk. She accepted the black tea handed by Elise, relaxed and comfortable, her knees easily crossed. Her two straight, smooth black-stockinged legs gently rubbed together. The sheer silk skirt’s material, slightly translucent, shimmered finely under the light, its texture clearly visible.

"Has Amalia not returned yet?"

Taking a sip of tea to moisten her throat, Astrid slightly adjusted her skirt. As her back straightened, her delicate, elegant black-stockinged ankle swayed slightly, drawing a graceful arc under the afternoon sun.

"Reporting, Miss Astrid, Princess Amalia said the second daughter of Duke Cassian arrived in the capital this afternoon and invited her to dinner." Elise, hands holding the tray, answered truthfully.

The second daughter of Duke Cassian? Astrid pondered slightly, her white elbow resting on the desk.

Duke Cassian, one of the Four Great Dukes, had been Lucas’s former ally. Now, contacting Amalia so quickly, he must have, like Duke Belmont, clearly seen the current situation.

But while the logic was sound... actual handling still required caution...

No matter what, never pop the champagne halfway through the game.

Setting down her teacup, Astrid flipped through the latest issue of the Empire Weekly and related reader feedback, casually giving orders.

"Elise, later go to the restaurant where they’re dining and keep an eye on things. Make sure nothing happens to Amalia."

Hearing the Third Princess’s almost instinctive words, Elise didn’t immediately accept the order as usual. Instead, she paused in silence before answering.

"Miss, have you perhaps forgotten that Mr. Trin is already beside Princess Amalia?"

Externally, the Imperial Guards tightly controlled every street; internally, the former Emperor’s steward provided close protection. Amalia’s personal safety was essentially impossible to threaten.

On the contrary, here with Astrid, if some sudden incident occurred and she wasn’t nearby to assist, it might cause slightly more trouble.

Astrid paused upon hearing this, then after half a minute, replied.

"True."

Perhaps having slept beside Amalia for too long, the other’s petite, soft body always made her feel the person in her arms was like extremely fragile, clear glass, she felt she had to protect her carefully, afraid she’d be shattered by outside forces.

In a way, this state was somewhat similar to a mother constantly worrying her daughter would suffer when alone outside, always watching over her.

"However..." Astrid drew out the word, her finger lightly tapping the porcelain-white teacup.

"I didn’t expect Elise to advise me like this."

During her tenure as head maid, she had been an emotionless work machine. She did whatever was said, unless it was an obvious misjudgment, she wouldn’t casually offer opinions.

Unknowingly, her loyal hound-like head maid had also acquired a bit of human warmth.

As if not catching the teasing tone in Astrid’s voice, Elise answered seriously and formally.

"Besides Princess Amalia, your safety is equally important."

Inside the palace it was fine, but if going outside, unexpected troubles might arise.

"Mm, I know you care about me."

Astrid responded gently, a slight upward curve at the corner of her lips.

"Elise, come here for a moment."

Hearing this, the head maid, still holding the tray, slowly approached.

"What is it, Miss?"

"Doesn’t this Amalia, sitting here, seem even more suitable than we imagined?"

Astrid pointed at the Empire Weekly’s special feature on the next Emperor’s successor. There, a golden-haired, blue-eyed white-stockinged little girl sat upon the throne, as if inheriting divine mandate, her blue eyes scanned the ministers below with solemn authority.

Elise looked at the doll-like little Empress at the center of the image, then her gaze unconsciously shifted, glancing at the silver-haired beauty standing elegantly beside the throne like an Empress, and gave a slight nod.

"Princess Amalia does indeed appear very dignified."

Sitting on a throne completely disproportionate to her petite frame, yet still conveying a subtle aura of authority even through paper, perhaps Amalia really was cut out to be Emperor.

Watching the slight upward curve at her mistress’s lips, Elise unconsciously pursued her own, a very restrained tenderness flickering briefly in her dark pupils.

Her Miss truly adored this younger sister to an extraordinary degree, saying she raised her like a daughter wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

Only... in her view...

Princess Amalia seemed to see Miss Astrid not just as an older sister, or a maternal guardian figure.

In many matters, their behavior was overly intimate. That intense yet restrained possessedness of Amalia’s, was actually somewhat obvious to her, the personal maid.

"..."

Just then, Auri jumped onto the desk, gently rubbing its tail against Astrid’s fingers, letting out a soft meow. Seeing this, Astrid immediately took dried fruit from the drawer and fed the cat.

With Amalia now busy, not only did she see less of her older sister, but Auri was the same.

After feeding the cat, Astrid placed the orange cat on her lap, gently stroking the fur on its back. Since Auri had previously torn Amalia’s canvas with its claws, the latter had long since clipped its nails, so there was no need to worry about the cat’s claws snagging her stockings.

Elise looked at the silver-haired princess quietly petting the cat, her own thoughts quickly fading.

With her previous misjudgment of Lyra and Astrid’s relationship still fresh, she really shouldn’t speculate wildly on these matters anymore.

Perhaps Princess Amalia simply suffered an unhappy childhood, leading to excessive emotional deprivation, thus showing such intense possessiveness towards family. Maybe it was her own lack of experience that caused the misunderstanding.

Silently waiting for Astrid to finish her tea, Elise collected the tea set and left the bedroom. The hard-soled maid shoes had just touched the corridor tiles, producing a crisp "tap" sound, when a member of the maid squad quickly approached.

"Miss Elise..."

"...The Emperor has invited Princess Astrid to dine together."

Hearing this, Elise stood still, then spoke.

"Just Princess Astrid alone?"

The maid replied softly in the affirmative.

"Yes, Miss Elise."

Thoughts racing, Elise nodded to show she understood, handing the tea set used by Astrid to the maid.

"Clean these properly."

"Yes, Miss Elise."

Watching the maid walk away, Elise turned back toward Astrid’s bedroom door. After waiting a minute, she raised her hand and gently knocked.

Hibbort would certainly be monitoring Amalia’s whereabouts at all times. That meant he knew the Fourth Princess had plans tonight, so he deliberately chose this moment to invite her for a private dinner.

Was there something he wanted to say to her, avoiding Princess Amalia?

...................

"Princess Amalia is truly talented and promising. Despite being only seventeen or eighteen, her knowledge of humanities and history, she displays intelligence and decisiveness, and her keen political intuition, none of these fall short of the capital’s elite."

"One can only imagine, upon formal ascension, she will certainly achieve remarkable achievements, leaving her name in imperial history as a woman, becoming a universally praised wise Empress."

Listening to the young lady’s string of flattery, Amalia took a sip of juice, her slender, white legs wrapped in delicate fabric elegantly closed together. Even the pure black glossy little leather shoes beneath her white-stockinged feet lightly pressed against each other, creating a strong color contrast with the tights.

"You flatter me. For Duke Cassian to have a daughter as talented and beautiful as you, that is the entire family’s fortune."

Her blue-blue eyes fixed on the steady liquid surface in her glass, Amalia curved her lips, speaking softly.

"It’s getting late. If there’s an opportunity next time, I hope we can have afternoon tea together."

This dinner had been more pleasant than Amalia expected.

Duke Cassian’s attitude shift was extremely rapid. Upon learning of Lucas’s death, the Duke’s second daughter who rushed to the capital immediately began contacting her, this rising star, and expressed her support and recognition during the meal.

She had originally thought this conservative, old-school noble wouldn’t accept her ascension so easily, but in reality, it wasn’t so.

But thinking carefully, it makes sense. Duke Cassian had supported Lucas purely out of self-interest. As long as the previous cooperation agreements set by the Crown Prince were maintained, even with a different Emperor, the benefits Cassian could obtain wouldn’t decrease.

If there was profit to be gained, why would these great nobles make things difficult for themselves? Moreover, there truly wasn’t a better successor candidate now. With Hibbort still alive, the time for them to make excessive demands hadn’t come yet.

For now, stabilize these old nobles, then handle them gradually later. Magical machinery development was the empire’s inevitable path. Then they will see what Duke Cassian truly intended.

Would he resist them to the death, or let go of his stubbornness and accept everything through a relatively smooth, lowest-cost transition?

"Mm, Princess Amalia’s words are extremely wise."

"Let’s end here for today."

Bidding farewell to the noble lady dressed like a flower of earthly prosperity, Amalia picked up her silk handkerchief to carefully wipe her lips, then gracefully stood up, smoothing her skirt.

"See you next time."

It was high summer. After dinner, it was still bright outside the restaurant, with guards in black armor occasionally patrolling nearby.

Leaving the private room, Amalia walked along the brownish-gray tiled path, a strand of hair falling onto her white dress. She casually lifted it, seeing not the old jet-black, but a dazzling, brilliant gold like an ingot.

Amalia examined it carefully, then quickly let go, quietly asking Trin beside her.

"Mr. Trin, is Princess Astrid still at Lady Lydia’s residence?"

"Reporting, my Lady, she returned to the palace earlier."

"Is that so..."

Receiving the answer she wanted, Amalia slightly quickened her pace, her hard-soled leather shoes tapping the steps as she quickly boarded the carriage.

To withstand the pressure and become one of the few female Emperors in imperial history, there was far more to do than this.

Tomorrow morning, she had an invitation from the internal Minister; in the afternoon, she needed to meet a military merit noble who defected from the Second Prince’s faction.

These days, she had been constantly running around, not only to prove she could assist her sister, but more out of sheer necessity.

Now that her identity was public, let alone spending every day glued together, even the time to lie in bed and nap with Astrid had decreased.

Outside scenery rapidly receded, leaving blurting colors on her retina.

Amalia gazed quietly, then slowly crossed her legs. The creamy-colored tights at her knees stretched with the movement, a pure white tinged with pale pink, like a light cherry blossom half-buried in snow.

She wanted to see Astrid... wanted to hug her sister, bury her head in her neck, and gently inhale her scent...

She could barely remember how she had managed, back when her sister came to the castle, to not go see her, merely focusing on her canvas, seriously wielding her brush, pretending there was nothing next door.

Closing her eyes, her mind filled with Astrid’s pink lips stained with juice at lunch, and those crimson eyes looking at her, constantly flowing with tiny glimmers.

If only her sister could stay by her side forever.

And not like this now, fifteen hours during the day, unable to see each other for even two full hours.

Opening her eyes again, a faint struggle hidden deep in Amalia’s pupils. In just a few days of busyness, this white-stockinged little girl had gradually come to realize one thing:

She could never go back. Now, except for brief moments of concentration when handling serious matters, every other second was filled with longing for the other’s presence.

In a way, Amalia, who finally understood her true feelings toward Astrid, had at last tasted that tiny bit of buried, hard-to-let-go reluctance Lyra felt when leaving the capital.

Only, compared to the destined heroine with lofty beliefs, the little tyrant in this story was more emotional, more desperately craving this love that arrived too late.

She wished the carriage could go faster.