CHAPTER 447: ORIGINAL ENDING

Feeling the black-haired girl express her attitude through actions, Astrid curled her lips into a smile, tightening her lotus-like arm around the other’s body. Her other hand reached behind, adjusting Amalia’s sitting posture in her embrace.

Tonight had indeed been exhausting for her, having to endure her inner disgust toward Hibbort while earnestly answering his questions and promoting her own governance ideals.

Under such immense pressure, she truly deserved some proper comfort.

Amalia, who had always wanted to grow closer to her sister, naturally leaned her head against the woman’s fragrant shoulder upon noticing the gesture. Her two smooth, tender white-stockinged feet continued to intertwine, their delicate, slightly stretched toes pulling the pristine white silk sock tips into faint pink. Her delicate small ankles and insteps pressed together, producing faint rustling sounds of silk rubbing against silk, like an adorable pure-white bow tied at the back of Astrid’s court gown.

"It’s not like that, sister."

Drawing near Astrid’s earlobe, warm breath spilled onto the skin. Amalia rubbed her forehead gently against the silver hair cascading down, her voice soft and sweet.

"Whether I’m a child or not, I just love hugging my sister."

A younger sister’s affection toward her elder can be expressed through embraces or kisses. But conversely, such actions aren’t limited to expressing only that single emotion.

They allow for broader interpretations.

Closing her eyes, Amalia wrapped both arms around Astrid’s slender, fair neck, nearly turning herself into a koala. She gently inhaled the pleasant floral fragrance emanating from her sister, her lowered eyelashes trembling slightly.

Just as the sisters were savoring this tender moment of intimacy after the intense pressure, in the bedroom study, Trin returned to the Emperor’s chambers after carrying out Hibbort’s secret order, accompanied by another elderly man in a black robe with snow-white hair.

"Your Majesty, the Imperial Guards have secured all major transportation routes and the four city gates of the imperial capital. The residence of Duke Thomas has been completely sealed off."

"Most of the nobles on the list have not yet reacted and are already under control. The few who attempted resistance have been disarmed with the Imperial Guards’ military assistance."

"As for the next phase of the plan..."

Before Trin could finish, the aged black-robed elder lifted his robe and, gazing at the Emperor seated before the desk, spoke gently.

"Your Majesty, all the evidence you required has been obtained."

"From now on, I shall remain in the capital, awaiting your orders until everything concludes."

Had any students of Elizabeth Academy of Magic been present, they would certainly have recognized the figure standing before Hibbort, the Academy Head, Anthony, who rarely appeared within the academy grounds and whose strength reached the peak tier Arcanist Mage level.

Besides his public role as Academy Head, he held another identity: the former magic tutor who had once taught the previous Valeria Empire Emperor, a Transcendent warrior loyal to the royal family.

Upon hearing this, Hibbort nodded slightly and murmured a low "Hmm," his wrinkled, rough fingers gripping the quill pen tightly as he continued writing. The nib scratched across the yellowed parchment, a continuous rustling sound filling the room.

After writing the name [Amalia Varelis] on the final line of the letter, Hibbort stared at the smudged ink stain, his blue pupils momentarily flickering under the light.

"Trin."

Calling out to his steward and handing him the letter, Hibbort continued.

"Seal this letter properly with magic materials and deliver it to Charles at the rear of Liya Tower Fortress. No one other than him must learn of the letter’s contents. Even the existence of this letter should be known to as few people as possible."

Trin solemnly accepted the letter. Though the parchment itself was as light as a feather, the moment his fingers touched it, it felt as if the entire weight of the Empire rested upon it.

"At once, Your Majesty," Trin replied.

He naturally knew of Duke Charles’s whereabouts, being the Emperor’s trusted aide. And naturally, the Emperor and the Duke had their own secret channel for discreetly transmitting intelligence.

In a sense, Astrid’s guess was completely correct. Charles, one of the Four Great Dukes, had not left his territory. At this very moment, he remained in the frigid lands, stationed at a secondary fortress along the main defensive line, observing the Church Knight Order’s next wave of attacks.

And apart from him and Lyra, another acquaintance of Astrid’s was currently present within Liya Tower Fortress.

A ink black-haired beauty, draped in a thickened woolen robe, stood in the core area of the magical energy cannon. Her two full, long legs were concealed beneath the robe, revealing only a small section of leather boots and skin-colored stockings covering her calves.

Charlotte exhaled softly, watching snowflakes land on the cannon barrel. Her vast, mid-tier Arcanist Mage-level mental power enveloped the entire core as she routinely inspected every inch of the carved magical runes.

This was one of her daily duties, maintaining the Valeria Empire’s most crucial magical weapon along the defensive line.

In a short while, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps the day after, once the Church Knight Order committed their full forces to battle, this magical energy cannon, embodying the most advanced understanding of magic, would reveal its unparalleled might to the world.

Moonlight fell, illuminating the cold, sharp metal. After one final inspection of the runes, Charlotte turned and walked toward her lodging.

....

After sorting through everything that had happened tonight and completely reviewing Amalia’s examination content, Astrid picked up her teacup and sipped some warm water to moisten her throat, deciding not to have the maid reheat more tea.

She’d had enough tea tonight. Switching to plain water wasn’t a bad idea.

Tidying up the paper filled with writing, she turned her head and saw Amalia, who had just finished reviewing with her, hugging her knees while sitting on the bed, feeding little dried fish snacks to a cat.

"Let’s rest early tonight. We still have to go see Father tomorrow morning."

The theoretical exam was over, but practical aspects couldn’t be neglected. After all, the last direct heir presumptive who thought he had a huge advantage was still locked up in prison.

Hearing Astrid’s words, Amalia nodded, set down the orange cat, and got off the bed.

"Then let’s go take a bath, sister."

Seeing the cool-tempered white-stockinged girl walking toward her in slippers, her fingers lightly gripping the black hem of Astrid’s skirt, Astrid fluttered her eyelashes, understanding what she meant.

"Tonight, together?"

"Mm."

"We haven’t bathed together in such a long time..."

"..."

Now that she thought about it, it had indeed been a while. Lately, there’d been too many things to handle and too many thoughts cluttering her mind. Astrid hadn’t properly enjoyed the pleasure of bathing herself, each time merely rinsing quickly and finishing.

"Then let’s bathe together," Astrid said.

When the body relaxed, mental fatigue would also ease. Astrid suspected Amalia thought the same way. Without suspicion, she took the girl’s hand and walked into the washroom.

Elise had already prepared fresh clothes, one set for Astrid, one for Amalia, coincidentally in high-contrast black and white, making it easy to tell whose was whose without checking style or size.

Standing before the washroom mirror, Astrid found the fastening buttons at the other’s waist, starting with the sweetly styled princess dress, then moving to the thin white stockings underneath.

......

In the warm, steamy mist, the two unusually spent over half an hour soaking in the bath before changing into nightgowns and lying down on the bed.

"Sister..."

After brushing Astrid’s hair, letting the silver strands flow naturally like a starry river, Amalia quietly clamped her leg around Astrid’s. The girl’s leg skin, carrying a slight moisture, was smooth and cool, like fine-quality silk.

"...I love you."

Suddenly hearing Amalia say this, Astrid froze momentarily, then casually adjusted the long ribbon on her shoulder before leaning down to kiss her.

"I love you too."

"What’s the matter, Amalia?"

The girl expressed her sincere feelings toward her often enough, but without any preamble, such a sudden declaration still felt slightly, just a little, abrupt.

"Nothing, sister."

Amalia hugged Astrid’s waist, her voice gentle.

"It’s just that tonight, drinking tea with that man, so many things inside me became stronger than before."

Feeling the girl’s heartbeat, slightly rising and falling like her own chest, Astrid’s voice softened accordingly.

"For example?"

"Like how risky the choice of you bringing me out from the old castle was... far exceeding any benefit..."

Amalia had understood this back then, but the feeling hadn’t been as strong as it was tonight, after meeting Hibbort.

That Emperor, who cared only for the Empire’s survival, truly might imprison his deeply beloved daughter simply for Astrid appointing a new heir.

Lucas and Alistair were the best examples.

"Thinking back now, sister... you really were too good."

If Astrid hadn’t taken her out of the castle back then, hadn’t shone into that prison built of bricks and tiles like moonlight, the Third Princess could have remained better hidden, completely undetected.

After all, her original plan was to let Lucas and Alistair kill each other, two heirs blowing up together. Then, when Hibbort died, given Astrid’s abilities, she could have placed her completely background-less self on the throne as a mere figurehead, a puppet Emperor under her control.

Yet Astrid chose the hardest path, taking her out of the castle. This not only exposed her intentions, giving the Emperor leverage to seize, but also forced her limited time and energy to be split, dedicating part of it to Amalia’s care and cultivation.

No matter how she analyzed it, Astrid’s actions couldn’t form a single reasonable logical chain from a rational standpoint.

The only explanation was that certain emotional factors influenced her, causing her to make these decisions.

That is... it was out of love for her...

"I want to become the next Emperor of the Empire," Amalia whispered softly.

"I want to prove that my sister’s choice wasn’t wrong. I want those risks you took for me to turn into future rewards."

"I want... to protect my sister like an adult..."

Someone like that pink-haired maid was already doing it, yet Amalia, bound by her role as a younger sister, could do nothing.

This feeling was terrible.

Listening to Amalia’s words, a warm tenderness welled up in Astrid’s heart. She pinched the girl’s soft, pink earlobe gently.

"I believe you can do it, Amalia."

"For the upcoming exams, just keep progressing smoothly, like you did at tonight’s banquet."

It wasn’t blind faith in the stereotypical image of a blonde, white-dressed blonde tyrant from the novel, but a reasonable judgment Astrid made based on Amalia’s recent performances.

The girl in her arms truly possessed the talent to become a wise ruler, only in another worldline, she had no one to teach her, and no one gave her even a shred of familial affection or love.

Just a little would have been enough for her to persevere through the long years.

Feeling the girl’s steady heartbeat and the slender frame between her fingers, Astrid’s compassion deepened. Her own bare legs entwined with the other’s.

After a moment, Amalia spoke softly.

"And also..."

"My method of dealing with Alistair and Lucas... didn’t scare you, did it?"

This was her genuine thought, not something said merely to appease Hibbort.

To secure the throne, she had to eliminate every hidden danger, especially these two heirs. She must see them die with her own eyes.

As for certain personal feelings, they existed too. That Crown Prince who frequently appeared by her sister’s side, so debauched, lustful, truly the perfect embodiment of the Varelis family’s inherent flaws.

Even daring to lust after her sister, Amalia had long wanted to kill that wretched prince.

"No, not at all."

Astrid moistened her lips, her voice gaining a hint of depth.

"You did well."

Cut the grass, remove the roots. The kindness she had taught Amalia didn’t mean foolishness. Obvious hazards like these had no reason to remain.

Besides, considering all the vile deeds Lucas and Alistair had committed over the years, death was actually too lenient for them.

"As long as my sister doesn’t hate me..."

Amalia replied sweetly and softly, her entire demeanor stripped of the composed bearing she showed before the Emperor in the study, reverting once more into the harmless, cool-tempered girl.

"You don’t need to bear too much psychological pressure," Astrid said.

Amalia replied softly: "Mm, I know."

Psychological pressure? Never.

As long as her sister didn’t hate her, what did killing Lucas and Alistair matter?

Without considering how Amalia interpreted the source of that "pressure," Astrid suddenly recalled, during their idle chat, the ending she herself faced in the original novel.

No wonder she felt such familiarity when Amalia spoke about handling royal bloodlines. In the original storyline, wasn’t Astrid Calliste exactly the one sent to prison by the blonde tyrant, ultimately dying tragically?

That was the ending originally meant for her.

Snapping back to reality, gazing at Amalia nestled against her collarbone, soft and cat-like, Astrid reached out and gently rubbed the girl’s head, speaking tenderly.

"Time to sleep, Amalia."

The currently affectionate, soft girl truly wouldn’t want her dead physically, unlike in the other worldline.

But in another sense, under such a specific scenario as this moment, perhaps it wasn’t entirely impossible.