CHAPTER 453: SILENCE

Being anxious over government matters really meant he feared he might never ascend to the throne, and his sleepless nights were actually due to the intimate encounters he shared with a certain noblewoman. Amalia seemed to grieve for the imperial prince she herself had slain, yet there was a subtle note of irony in her words.

Of course, only a few people could fully grasp the details and understand her implications. Lucas’s lifelong efforts ultimately became a wedding gown for Amalia, and in the end, he at least received a funeral far better than Alistair’s

Feeling Amalia’s hand resting on the back of hers, Astrid neither pulled away nor turned her hand to interlock their fingers. Instead, she continued standing beside her like a lady-in-waiting attending the emperor, accompanying her as they looked down upon the masses below.

Come to think of it, in the history of the Valeria Empire, few people had ever walked up the steps alongside the emperor to stand beside the throne.

The last one had been the late Empress Valeria. It was said that Hibbort loved her so deeply that he even had her by his side during weekly court meetings.

While pondering, Astrid heard Amalia speak again.

"With foreign enemies invading and the nation facing a crisis, the imperial prince has passed away due to illness. As the emperor’s own daughter, I naturally must redouble my efforts to share his burdens."

"Moreover, the matter of succession has always been a critical state affair. The empire cannot be without a suitable heir, just as the sky cannot be without the sun."

This was the first time Hibbort had officially established a true heir, a moment of great significance.

Politically speaking, with imperial secured recognition, no further potential heirs posing a threat, and the full support of the Third Princess Astrid, Amalia’s current advantage already surpassed even Lucas at his peak.

"Princess Amalia speaks wisely."

From below the council chamber, a slightly aged voice emerged from the crowd.

"Now that the Second Prince has been stripped of his royal status and permanently exiled, and the First Prince has passed away due to illness..."

"The empire needs a capable and virtuous successor, a future pillar of the nation, to ensure long-term development and protect the interests of everyone present."

Speaking at this moment clearly signaled one’s stance in supporting Amalia’s ascension. Upon hearing this, many nobles turned their gazes toward the speaker, pupils dilating slightly once more.

Anthony, the Academy Head of the Elizabeth Academy of Magic, sat steadily with his staff, his white beard protruding from a magical robe that radiated a constant aura of power.

"I fully support His Majesty’s decision."

His deep yet crystal-clear voice fell upon the hall, like a few drops of water landing on a lake, ripping layer upon layer in the hearts of the nobles.

Besides being the Academy Head of the Elizabeth Academy of Magic, Anthony’s personal strength had reached the level of a peak-tier Arcanist mage, some might even say he stood at the pinnacle of magical power within the empire.

His mere verbal endorsement carried immense weight.

Hearing the subtle murmurs of discussion among the councilors, Tristian composed his expression, hands resting on his knees as he seriously considered his family’s future.

At that moment, another depth charge dropped into the water.

"Dean Anthony speaks truly."

Beside the man, the ever-silent old fox Cedric opportunistically spoke up. Instantly, the attention of every councilor in the chamber was drawn to the words of this imperial duke.

"The matter of succession concerns the empire’s future. His Majesty must have made this decision after careful consideration."

"As a loyal subject, I shall stand by the emperor’s choice and recognize the Fourth Princess Amalia as the next emperor."

The faction of the Second Prince had been completely dismantled and disbanded over the past half-month. Most nobles whose interests were not deeply entangled chose to defect to the First Prince’s faction for the sake of their families’ futures. However, since Lucas had long remained out of sight, the actual political operations and negotiations were consistently managed by the Third Princess Astrid and Amalia, who at the time went by the alias Livia.

Even without considering how clear the capital’s situation had already become, Hibbort had earlier ordered the Imperial Guards to eliminate most troublemakers and sealed off all major routes. Before arriving, Cedric had already prepared to align himself with the emperor; his relationship with Astrid and the Velmont family was long-standing. As long as they maintained their previous cooperation agreements and rode the wave of magical devices development to earn massive profits, switching heirs was no great loss.

Now, adding extra investment will not only earn him future favor with the incoming emperor but also allow better negotiations with Astrid on subsequent terms. Overall, it was undoubtedly a safe, profitable transaction.

As Cedric’s words settled, some imperial nobles, whose minds had been overwhelmed by the stream of information, began to grasp the current situation.

Even the famous neutral, fence-sitting Velmont family had chosen their side, what reason did they have to risk offending the emperor by questioning Amalia?

Better to quickly jump on the board. Since they had previously met Astrid a few times and shared a few cups of tea, perhaps they could gain some advantages when the new emperor ascended.

Amalia’s blue eyes swept calmly and solemnly over the assembly below. Bathed in sunlight, she resembled an emperor surveying her ministers.

The young girl’s lashes fluttered slightly. Her slender white fingers tapped gently, but due to her hand resting on Astrid’s, her fingertips didn’t touch the cold throne armrest. Instead, they gently brushed against the woman’s smooth, warm skin.

Academy head Anthony, appointed by Hibbort as a regent guardian, naturally stood with the emperor in supporting her, this was expected. As for Duke Cedric, one of the Four Dukes, he likely chose such direct alignment due to the familial bond through his sister.

As for Duke Charles, the frontier commander, he was Hibbort’s most trusted noble. Amalia imagined her existence was already transparent to him, and she knew exactly what he would do.

With two of the Four Imperial Dukes choosing her side, and Duke Cassian, who previously supported the First Prince, likely backed her ascension after negotiations with her and Astrid...

In other words, under Hibbort’s full support and Astrid’s devoted assistance, more than half the empire was already within her grasp.

Although seated on the spacious imperial throne, her petite frame couldn’t even occupy half the space. Yet Amalia still sat upright with royal dignity, her blue eyes calm and unfathomable. Her legs, clad in delicate white stockings, were elegantly pressed together, even her silver high heels aligned. The wing-shaped ornaments carved behind her white-stockinged feet slightly touched the throne’s base, producing an almost imperceptible metallic sound.

Becoming the heir to the throne was only the beginning. Until she completed her coronation and removed every obstacle, she couldn’t let her guard down.

In the future, she will need to use her imperial authority as a shield to help Astrid shoulder the pressures that might arise from magical device reform. And further ahead, following her sister’s vision, she will reshape the empire into a nation embraced by all.

The road ahead remained long.

Shifting her gaze toward Astrid at her side, the silver-haired princess stood straight in her black dress. The dark-night-colored skirt with lotus-leaf hem covered her soft thighs, exposing only the upper half of thin, patterned black stockings. Above, smooth fabric clung to her flat abdomen and accentuated her distinctly feminine curves. A silver pendant with a ruby rested at the center of her chest, its flowing red hue resembled the glint in Astrid’s eyes.

She stood there silently, yet seemed like a portrait she could never perfectly paint, her sunlit profile, delicate and exquisite, radiating a captivating charm.

Amalia gazed quietly, her solemn blue eyes revealing a hint of tender warmth.

As long as her sister remains by her side, she will be satisfied.

The gentle curve of her eyes disappeared as her gaze turned away. Amalia looked once more toward the assembly below, her pink lips parting softly.

"Silence."

Even spoken gently, a single word from such a lofty position compels every listener to stop and pay attention.

"Now that everyone understands, this little incident should end."

Having spoken, Amalia did not rise from the throne and descend to join the ministers. Instead, she opened her lips once more.

"Now, the weekly meeting continues. All procedures proceed as usual."

"Today, I will act on behalf of His Majesty to handle all imperial affairs."

This was also Hibbort’s intention.

He wanted her to fully display her talents before everyone.

"Mr. Edmund..." Amalia turned toward the Grand Chancellor standing closest to the marble steps, her tone gentle.

"Please present the bills requiring discussion to the ministers."

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

At 10:30 AM, the first weekly council meeting presided over by Amalia concluded successfully. Watching the nobles file out below, the blonde little girl narrowed her eyes slightly, her mind briefly drifting into a daze.

Judging by the results, her debut had been exceptionally impressive. Whether it was continuing Hibbort’s speech, announcing her identity before everyone, or her subsequent handling of state affairs and legislation, no one could find fault.

After all, for this appearance, she had prepared for more than half a month, ever since leaving the castle, Amalia had advanced relentlessly toward the imperial throne.

Sharpening the sword took more effort than drawing it, but now, finally, the reward has come.

Her delicate white-stockinged ankles had unknowingly crossed, gently swaying with the motion of her legs. Amalia, deep in thought, suddenly caught a whiff of sweet floral scent, and the wrist resting on her skirt seemed to brush against a cool, smooth silk.

Her vision refocused, silver hair had fallen over her arm.

"You did very well, Amalia."

Astrid leaned down, a strand of silver hair slipped from her shoulder. Along with it, the red gemstone that the Third Princess always wore slipped from the fabric of her dress.

Following the silver chain that held the pendant, Amalia unintentionally glimpsed a flash of snow-white skin. She moistened her throat and looked up into those warm, clear crimson eyes.

"Because my sister is by my side, I can do anything."

The moment her palm touched the back of Astrid’s hand, a feeling of peace seeped from her skin into her veins, rushing quickly to her heart and spreading through her blood to her limbs.

She knew where she was, what she needed to do, and why she was doing it.

With clear purpose and a settled heart, her performance had naturally been effortless.

Hearing this, Astrid smiled gently. Noticing Amalia still sat on the throne, the hand that had been about to ruffle her hair returned to rest on the armrest.

"To ensure Amalia leaves a deep impression on them, I’ve deliberately minimized my own presence."

Although Amalia hoped they could both bask in the spotlight, when they truly stood atop the marble steps, one had to take the lead. Amalia was the future emperor; Astrid, at most, is a half-regent, she must not overshadow the main figure.

"This was all your doing," Astrid said.

Amalia fluttered her lashes slightly, glancing from the corner of her eye to see that most councilors had nearly withdrawn. Her hand slipped through the gap, five slender white fingers threading through Astrid’s, and gently clasped hers.

"It’s only because my sister taught me so well."

Actually, what she most wanted to do right now... was to pull Astrid, who was half-bent over, into her arms...

Her cheek close to Astrid’s neck, the warm breath lingering at her nose. In such a posture, her center of gravity would inevitably tilt forward. If she reached behind and pulled firmly, Astrid would surely collapse directly onto her lap.

Imagining Astrid’s head resting on her thighs, her dazzling silver hair cascading behind her, her snow-white back faintly visible between silver strands, her entire being, in that moment, would seem to belong exclusively to her.

A flicker of light danced in Amalia’s eyes. She quietly exhaled, choosing a more serious topic to push aside these fantasies.

"Sister, did the emperor say during the meeting’s end that the coronation ceremony will be held next Friday?"

It was actually a bit fast. Amalia, this hidden heir, had only just revealed herself today. To be crowned emperor just seven days later, anyone would sense the urgency behind it.

Astrid gave a slight nod, straightening her posture, and with it, her previously crossed black-stockinged legs returned to a proper stance, aligned with the dignified imperial throne.

"Completing the power transition quickly isn’t necessarily bad..."

Hibbort’s organ failure was already extremely severe. Today, merely standing here with imperial dignity to announce the existence of the Fourth Princess Amalia had been exceedingly difficult.

Although the meeting had gone exceptionally well, there were certainly nobles opposed to Amalia who hoped to seize a share of power during the succession. They simply hadn’t dared to show it before Hibbort.

"The earlier she ascends, the sooner any problems will surface. As long as the emperor lives, they won’t dare move," Astrid said.

Hibbort was racing against death. With powerful external enemies truly threatening the empire, the urgent circumstances didn’t allow them to wait any longer.

Astrid turned and looked down at the assembly. Hibbort was conversing with four ministers, Anthony and personal guard Trin were among them.

"Let’s go, Amalia."

"Let’s talk to Father about the details of the coronation ceremony."

The cold, blonde, white-dressed little girl of this lifetime was about to receive her imperial throne.

Amalia gave a slight nod, rising from the throne. Her silver princess shoes, which had hung in the air without ever touching the ground, now firmly stepped onto the tiles, producing a clear, resonant sound.