Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 426: One prince died at court, another lived in exile.

Chapter 426: One prince died at court, another lived in exile.

Lucas approaching her at this juncture was naturally never just for polite sibling pleasantries.

Astrid fluttered her lashes slightly, her gaze sweeping past the noisy crowd. She stepped forward, the night-sky-colored silk gown covering the lace tops of her thigh-high stockings. Her soft voice blended with the crisp sound of high heels.

"That is true. Only when His Majesty is in good health can the Empire remain standing amid war."

Hearing Astrid said this, Lucas showed no visible reaction, merely nodding in agreement.

"Seeing Father seated on the throne as usual, I can finally put my heart at ease."

Although both parties clearly understood what was really on Lucas’s mind.

At present, the Crown Prince holds more political support than the second prince Alistair. In this battle for the throne, Lucas holds an absolute advantage. Once Hibbort passed away, he will most likely become the next emperor of the Valeria Empire.

Put another way, the earlier Hibbort abdicated, the fewer variables Lucas will have to face, and the less room Alistair will have to struggle.

Gazing at the silver-haired beauty before him, her alluring figure outlined by the black gown, Lucas suppressed the familiar heat in his heart, just as he had done countless times before, and spoke again.

"By the way, does my younger sister have time for lunch today? It’s been a while since we last met. How about we share a meal together?"

With Hibbort’s first public appearance after recuperation, intense border conflicts, and the second prince’s recent underhanded maneuvers, there were many points requiring discussion, something that needed communication between the top figures of political factions.

Although Lucas was reluctant to admit it, this stunningly beautiful younger sister of his had, in many aspects, begun to overshadow him, quietly emerging as a significant political force aside from the Four Dukes. Were it not for her lack of legal succession rights, he would long ago have suspected Astrid of harboring ulterior motives.

It was fine for her to help relieve some pressure from her elder brother, but displaying too much ambition or being excessively self-assertive wasn’t good. The Empire’s Jewel should properly play her role as a decorative figure, focusing on how to please men in bed, rather than continuously interfering in politics.

For example, he had long envied the operational rights of the Empire Weekly, and had repeatedly hinted that the Third Princess should relinquish some power to him. Yet Astrid had kept it firmly in her grasp, showing no intention of sharing it with others.

When he became Emperor, he would reclaim all her power, locking the Empire’s most beautiful woman inside the palace as a golden canary forever seeking his favor.

After a moment’s thought, Astrid narrowed her eyes, speaking calmly.

"If my elder brother extends such a gracious invitation, I shall not decline."

She also wanted to take this opportunity to learn more about Lucas’s upcoming plans.

.........

Half an hour later, in a private room at the Royal Dining Hall.

Astrid sat down, her hand lightly resting on her skirt as she elegantly crossed her legs. The black shoe tips rose slightly with the movement.

On the table before the young woman, a glass goblet held crimson wine, while silver forks and knives lay still, shimmering softly under the glow of crystal stones.

"My sister, to be honest," Lucas said, holding his wineglass and gently swirling it, "I still have some concerns about Father’s health."

"During the morning meeting, although Father appeared normally before everyone, he would occasionally cover his mouth, using his arm to conceal movements in his throat."

"Staying secluded in the inner palace, unseen by officials, missing the most important weekly meetings... If it were truly just a minor illness, it seems unlikely he’d go to such lengths..."

Even if Lucas were dull-witted, he was still the first in line for succession, he couldn’t possibly fail to notice such things.

Hearing Lucas said this, Astrid pursed her lips slightly, her tone leisurely.

"It seems my elder brother and I think alike..."

"The Kingdom of Velys’s massive invasion is most likely due to Father feigning illness, missing weekly meetings for several consecutive weeks."

"With war breaking out, the Empire must have someone to serve as its backbone. Otherwise, the core political circle will fall into disarray. Even if the front lines hold, the rear won’t be stable. At this moment, Father is clearly the best choice."

In other words, as long as Hibbort was still alive, he would inevitably appear at this critical juncture to stabilize the Empire’s internal situation.

And as the backbone, Hibbort naturally wouldn’t easily reveal any physical signs of fatigue, even if he were already critically ill and near death.

"Perhaps... Father’s health condition isn’t as good as it appears..."

Magic capable of altering physical forms and adjusting auras wasn’t rare in this world. Astrid, after all, had once used a transformation potion to disguise herself as Livia Valeria, changing from a silver-haired, red-eyed seductive young lady into the graceful, gentle golden-haired elder sister in Amalia’s eyes. It should be equally easy for Hibbort to use minor illusions to make others perceive him as healthy.

Not to mention, the Imperial Scepter possesses the ability to block magical detection. Even if it didn’t, none of the court officials below would dare use their mental power to probe the Empire’s supreme ruler seated high upon the throne.

Seeing Astrid agree with his judgment, a hint of smugness flickered in Lucas’s eyes, further solidifying his belief. He continued.

"Father handles countless daily affairs. Attending meetings while ill is truly an unavoidable necessity."

Although Lucas still harbored a trace of filial affection for his father, compared to the throne within his grasp, such emotions were insignificant.

The worse Hibbort’s health, the sooner Lucas’s ascension will come.

Feeling Lucas’s eagerness, Astrid remained expressionless, casually switching the red wine in Amalia’s glass to juice.

After finishing this, Astrid leaned back on the chair, speaking softly.

"As children, we should naturally help Father shoulder more burdens."

Actually, she had some additional thoughts on this matter.

Even a talentless, lazy heir like Lucas could reduce that Hibbort was attending meetings while ill, surely the other political elites, given the current intelligence, could infer the same.

Or perhaps, beyond stabilizing the situation, Hibbort’s appearance also served to draw out other opposing forces, just as he had used his feigned illness to mislead the Kingdom of Velys into launching war during his rule rather than during a more chaotic power transition.

Put more clearly, Hibbort knew that several people could deduce the falsehood of him attending meetings while barely holding on, and he intended to use this opportunity to eliminate noble factions threatening the royal family, selecting the true pillar worthy of inheriting the throne.

Thanks to the prophetic knowledge from the original novel, Astrid can see straight to the bottom layer of this thousand-layered cake, knowing that Hibbort’s condition was far from deteriorating to the point of being bedridden, thus avoiding a deadly loop of suspicion.

Of course, this intelligence was something Astrid could never share with Lucas.

"What does my elder brother plan to do next?" Astrid took a sip of wine, leaning sideways on her seat, her graceful figure perfectly outlined by the silk gown.

The man replied, "In the next couple of days, I will propose to Father that I take on more responsibilities."

From Lucas’s perspective, as a helping his recently recovered father handle imperial affairs, this wasn’t an overly bold request, especially during this turbulent period of war.

If Hibbort agreed, he could also use this chance to become familiar with various matters in advance, preparing for his future advancement.

After hearing this, Astrid fluttered her lashes and nodded in approval.

"Father will surely feel gratified by my elder brother’s actions."

For a father, it might seem inappropriate that his nurtured child harbors ambitions to replace him. But for the Empire’s ruler, it was just right, even counting as half a bonus point.

As long as Lucas didn’t go too far.

"By the way, Second Brother has seemed particularly low-key recently." Astrid interlaced her fingers, her bright eyes turning toward Amalia on her right.

Hearing Astrid shift the topic to another heir, Lucas snorted heavily through his nose, his tone suddenly darkening.

"My incompetent younger brother must have sensed something, so he’s become much more restrained."

"Probably afraid I’ll report him to Father, get him punished for torturing commoners."

"Better this way. A prince with such a disgraceful record truly isn’t suitable to represent the Valeria family, nor fit to become a potential emperor. Realizing his position early still leaves time."

After losing the Viscount Rostlin trial, Alistair had indeed become much more cautious, not showing any abnormalities even during morning meetings.

Given the Crown Prince’s character, once in power, he certainly wouldn’t spare Alistair out of sibling sentiment. The same would apply if Alistair ascended.

With things having reached this point, it was a fight to the death, there was no possibility of backing out halfway.

In the original novel, because Lyra was at the northern frontlines, there was no suitable perspective to explain these details to readers. Thus, even Astrid wasn’t certain what exactly had happened within the imperial capital during the months of power transition, how Alistair had managed to take half of Lucas’s life despite heavy security, or how Amalia had gradually broken free from being a puppet emperor chosen by the nobles, ultimately completing her revenge against the entire Valeria imperial family.

But one thing was certain: Alistair was merely biding his time. When the opportunity arose, he would deliver a fatal blow to either her or Lucas, whoever was currently dominant. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

She needed to pay more attention to security recently.

Without cautioning him that Alistair might turn to reckless self-destruction, Astrid simply repeated Lucas’s words in a gentle tone, subtly adjusting them to show her approval of his rise.

Although she knew that Hibbort most likely had already added Amalia to the succession list, meaning Alistair and Lucas didn’t necessarily need to each destroy the other, the intensification conflict between the two was equally beneficial to Astrid with no drawbacks.

The bigger the chaos, the lower their scores in Hibbort’s eyes, why not encourage it?

After some mutual flattery, the three began dining. The faint clinking of cutlery against silver plates echoes like fleeting inspirations amid flowing thoughts.

Astrid held her knife, carefully cutting the steak before her. Watching the juice burst from beneath the blade, her red eyes narrowed slightly.

In truth, the second prince Alistair wasn’t entirely without chances. If he had the courage to go all-in and achieve remarkable feats that impressed the Emperor, Lucas might not necessarily dominate him.

One prince died at court, another lived in exile.

Alistair’s political strength was at an absolute disadvantage within the capital’s circles. To win, he had to seek opportunities elsewhere, such as distancing himself from the center during the crucial stage of power struggle, heading to the frontlines where the Empire clashed with the Kingdom of Velys, on the territory of Grand Duke Charles.

This way, he could avoid being squeezed out by Lucas, gaining more developmental opportunities. Secondly, he could form alliances with Duke Charles, adding much-needed political chips to his otherwise barren table. Thirdly, it would allow Hibbort to see his determination to protect the Empire. If he could achieve results, he could gain recognition from most nobles and provide Hibbort with a reason to pass the throne to him.

This was the only path to survival, at the cost of relinquishing core influence over the capital’s political circle, entrusting everything to the Emperor, believing that Hibbort’s body was still strong enough to make rational judgments.

However, given Alistair’s nature, even if someone pointed this out, he wouldn’t dare take such an apparently irrational action, almost all nobles had already fixed their eyes on the turbulent imperial capital.

She speared a piece of meat and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly. Astrid lightly rubbed her leg, producing a faint rustling sound.

Wasn’t she currently facing a similar situation? Fortunately, she had much more room to maneuver than Alistair.

According to the novel’s plot, Lyra was the natural link connecting military merit nobles like Grand Duke Charles. Astrid herself was already the leader of the reformists, maintained good relations with the commercial family Velmont, and held a secret, hidden ace, the royal bloodline.

After years of cultivation, the harvest time had finally arrived.

Her gaze fell upon the dark-haired little girl beside her. Astrid handed her a piece of cut steak, her voice is exceptionally gentle.

"Try this, Livia."

Meanwhile, outside the palace, in the West District, within a classically decorated mansion.

Alistair hid in the shadows, low-voiced as he implicated the attendant before him.

"Everything must be handled with utmost care. Not a single person can discover it."

"Yes, Prince Alistair."

After watching the servant leave the room, Alistair sat seated, his blue eyes sweeping over the untouched delicacies on the table.

The diligent emperor had been absent for weeks, only appearing at this critical moment of foreign invasion to calm the people. Hibbort’s health must have already deteriorated to an unimaginable breaking point.

If he waited any longer, he truly would have no chance.

He must quickly eliminate Lucas Valeria, this thorn in his eye, no matter the cost.

In the shadows, the man’s lips twitched slightly, the darkness around him seemed to grow denser with that deep, consuming thought.