Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 475: “I’ve long stopped being satisfied with just being your little sister.”

Chapter 475: “I’ve long stopped being satisfied with just being your little sister.”

Compared to that dinner which had carried an admonishing undertone, what left a deeper impression on Astrid was the final night, when the once-majestic Emperor of the Empire passed away, his last concerns were no different from those of any ordinary elderly person: simply reminded his children to take care of their health, then carefully stored away treasured possessions of personal significance before burying them in the ancestral land.

Thus, when Amalia brought this up, Astrid paused for a moment, her chopsticks halting mid-air as the wooden tips dipped into the bright red dipping sauce.

"As a precaution, His Majesty had the habit of recording his life events using a recording barrier."

Amalia gazed into Astrid’s eyes, her smooth golden hair cascading down to her shoulders.

Since it was hot outside and they were eating spicy food, the white-stockinged girl had removed her elaborate outer shawl, leaving only the off-shoulder white dress underneath. Her tender, fair shoulders peeked through strands of hair, smooth like a peeled egg.

"From the remaining crystal stones, I learned about the conversation between you and Father."

Hearing her sister’s devotion from the perspective of an outsider, the warmth and affection as common and pervasive as air, had quietly filled her heart.

As her words ended, Amalia raised her glass and took a sip of juice. Her cherry-pink lips glistened with moisture, appearing even more delicate under the light.

The cool juice sliding down her throat brought a slight tingling sensation. After a brief pause, Amalia spoke again.

"Sister..."

"Will you always stay with me?"

Perhaps because she had just drunk something, her voice sounded clear and ethereal, yet carried a hint of moisture in her words, gentle like water.

Feeling Amalia’s earnest gaze, filled with anticipation and longing, Astrid gripped her chopsticks. The slender heel of her shoe scraped faintly against the floor tiles, but the sound was drowned out by the bubbling pot.

"I will."

Astrid answered softly, crossing her legs again.

Upon hearing this, Amalia tilted her head slightly, the corners of her lips lifted.

"If it were the sister I knew before, she would have answered without hesitation, not pausing for a few seconds like you just did."

"Is it because I seem... a bit strange now?"

Less docile and gentle than usual, becoming more proactive, more direct.

Or to put it another way, more aggressive.

Astrid lowered her gaze toward Amalia, her eyes sweeping over the girl’s wheat-colored hair, then settling on her delicate nose and blue pupils.

Amalia was right. From the moment Astrid returned to the palace, then to the castle, and now sitting across from her sharing this meal, Amalia had indeed felt different from how she used to be.

"Are you feeling unwell, Amalia?"

"..."

"No."

The golden-haired girl gently shook her head, her voice soft and quiet.

"I’m too happy to hear those sincere words from you to possibly feel upset."

If asked who she cares about most in this world, there was no doubt, it was the silver-haired beauty seated before her: Astrid Calliste, the Empire’s Jewel, the beloved Regent Princess.

The other had given her, as a sister to her little sister, nearly all the love one could possibly offer.

But... Why did it still feel insufficient...

Looking into Astrid’s eyes, Amalia’s voice grew complex.

"Sister..."

"...sometimes, you’re too kind to me."

So kind that it gave this moral flaw, wicked child too much space for her possessiveness to grow wildly, constantly craving to monopolize that tenderness.

Even though she was already her sister’s only younger sibling, one of the closest people to her, she still wanted more, more time, more attention, soul, or even body.

She wanted her sister to be with her every moment, to think of her no matter what she did, to have eyes only for her.

All of these were crossing boundaries, things no sister should ever think about.

How greedy. How selfish.

Calling her the worst sister in the world wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

Before Astrid could respond, Amalia continued.

"I’m not Lyra Beckett. I don’t possess her noble virtue of putting the people first and sacrificing herself for others. I’m not as strong as her, capable of swallowing bitterness and pain alone, digesting it all by myself..."

"So sometimes, I envy her."

"I envy how she isn’t torn apart by emotions, doesn’t need to hold back, and can simply follow her heart to do what she wants."

When Lyra was still around, Amalia had closely observed this pink-haired knight and potential rival. After spending time with her, she gradually realized the fundamental difference between them.

Lyra was a strong girl, raised under the love and care of her parents, growing up healthily in a world full of kindness, completely different from someone like herself, who constantly had to resist inner greed to avoid letting her twisted possessiveness harm her loved ones, an existence almost like a monster.

She deeply loved the land that raised her, and the people in her life. She was willing to make sacrifices, willing to wholeheartedly fight for beneficial causes to the people.

This perfectly aligned with the values Astrid had taught her. She didn’t need correction or change, just time and experience to grow into someone excellent.

From the very beginning, Lyra had been someone who resonated with Astrid.

"My reason for surviving used to be hatred toward my parents and disgust toward the entire Valeria royal family. But after Sister appeared, that motivation was replaced, now I live to continue enjoying your love and warmth, and to fight for the cause you believe in, fulfilling the duty and repaying a younger sister should offer."

"That’s why I strive to become the obedient sister in Sister’s heart, a diligent ruler who strengthens the nation and enriches the people, a strong yet gentle person."

Pausing, Amalia moistened her throat, bending her knees like her two long, white-stockinged legs pressed together once more.

"But... in truth..."

"I’m not that noble."

"I don’t care about the common people as much as Sister imagines. I don’t have a heart as radiant as the sun that can warm the entire world. I don’t possess such grand vision."

"I only want to respond to Sister’s devotion, to fight for the future you dream of, to be the support you lean on when tired, to protect you like Hibbort did, to make you see my efforts... and then..."

Her blue irises reflected Astrid’s image, the elegant beauty seated like a continuation of moonlight on the windowsill. Amalia pursed her lips, her voice soft and low.

"...love me a little more."

Studying statecraft, honing her political skills, reviewing public affairs, drafting laws, none of it had anything to do with Amalia’s personal desires.

She did all of this for Astrid, and for no other reason.

Seeing Astrid remain silent, Amalia lowering her head, watching the bubbles rise and burst in the broth. Under the table, the glossy leather of her small shoes gently pressed together.

This was her true self, the Amalia who, although she had stepped out of the castle, still carried the scars of her past.

"Amalia."

After a long silence, Astrid poured a stack of lamb slices into the broth. The rising steam brushed against her arm, revealing her fair, slender wrist.

"Do you remember our trip to Kost Town?"

After a brief silence, Amalia answered.

"I remember."

They had traveled together to Lyra’s hometown to escape the summer heat. Kost Town was the nearest town to Morin Village. It was then that Astrid brought her to observe the operations of the Empire’s base towns.

"We went together to the bell tower, the highest point in Kost Town."

The thin slices of meat flipped repeatedly in the fiery broth, garlic and scallions occasionally floating up and down, just like Amalia’s current state of mind.

Astrid nodded, her beautiful eyes fluttering.

"Back then, you sat on the outer edge of the bell tower, leaning against me. Before you stretched a magnificent sky painted with fiery clouds."

"In the twilight covering Kost Town, I saw the little princess in my arms enjoying the evening breeze, her hair fluttering freely, so comfortable that even her legs dangling outside the tower swayed gently."

"A little bird landed on your knee, tearing your sock without you noticing, while you tapped the wall bricks slightly with the heel of your small leather shoe."

"What was Amalia thinking about then?"

That trip had been nearly three years ago, but now, faced with Astrid’s question, Amalia could still recall some of her feelings from sitting on that tower.

"The evening breeze felt so pleasant on my face, and my sister’s arms were so warm and soft..."

At that moment, Amalia realized that so-called freedom was only relative. Yet, undeniably, that brief peace and comfort had deeply satisfied her.

Looking at Amalia’s face, Astrid spoke gently.

"I remember, back then, Amalia told me... the scenery here is beautiful..."

"You liked it."

As she spoke, Astrid picked up a piece of meat and placed it into Amalia’s bowl.

"Even though my little princess’s architectural drawings always use cold tones, with endless dark clouds covering the sky, making the entire artwork feel damp and dreary."

"But facing the twilight of Kost Town, watching the peaceful crowd walk below, you still sincerely say you liked it."

If it were the golden-haired, white-dressed girl tyrant from an alternate world line, the absolute war-monger, she certainly wouldn’t feel comforted by such tranquility. She’d rather see the whole world burn in retaliation for her suffering.

"What I mean is..."

"Amalia might not be as cold-hearted as she claims."

A mother knows her own child best. Astrid had practically watched Amalia grow up. Sometimes those involved are blind, while onlookers see clearly.

Indeed, Amalia didn’t particularly care about ordinary citizens. Or rather, she placed the priority of most things extremely low, so low that she wouldn’t bother thinking about them at all.

But low priority doesn’t mean zero. The subtle details hidden in everyday life were enough proof: the Amalia in this world line wasn’t the girl tyrant from novels, but simply a love-starved girl who valued family above everything else, thus overlooking all other emotions.

"Besides, even if Amalia were truly that kind of person, so what?"

"Would you do something like Lucas, taking innocent lives just to deceive the late Emperor’s judgment?"

"..."

"No."

She had seen commoners standing at street corners on cold winds, selling bread just to feed their families. She had seen disabled children feeding leftover scraps to stray dogs in trash bins.

As long as someone didn’t violate Imperial law and lose their citizenship, every person had the right to live.

"That’s enough, Amalia." Astrid said softly.

"To understand the weight of life, and to refrain from becoming the cold wind that breaks blossoms and crushes branches, that alone makes you a qualified ruler."

And also the sister she cherished.

"So, there’s no need to worry about such things, Amalia."

"Even if you were just an ordinary person, not an Empress, I would still love you just as much at this very moment." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The woman’s gentle words lingered in the room, just like the steam rising from the broth, refusing to dissolve.

Her vision grew slightly blurry, even Astrid’s face starting to blur. Amalia closed her eyes, struggling to contain her emotions.

Why was she saying these things again...

She had already told her sister, she was sometimes too kind to her.

It was already complete... impossible to suppress...

"But Sister..."

"What if I said... I’m actually a little worse than what I just described..."

The golden-haired girl slowly lifted her face, her pale blue pupils shimmering with tears.

"From beginning to end, I’ve never been a good child."

"After all, what good child would harbor such thoughts toward their sister?"

Such... thoughts?

The movement of high heels produced a faint, grating sound. Astrid, whose heart had just begun to feel slightly dazed, felt two warm legs press against her leg. From the corner of her eye, she saw a pair of delicate, smooth white-stockinged ankles wrapping around her calf.

This time, Amalia’s touch was no longer the gentle one of a younger sister, but carried a slight pressure, as if afraid she might escape.

What kind of thing... was so terrifying to say that she feared her sister wouldn’t even want to hear...

Astrid’s mind sank. An irrational thought seized her completely. And in the next second, Amalia softly parted her lips.

"My earlier words about envying Lyra... weren’t just about her acquired gentle nature."

"But also... the kind of feelings toward Sister... that can be openly declared."

Amalia didn’t know whether Lyra had said anything to Astrid, whether she had confessed. But someone as perceptive as she had long sensed the ambiguity between them.

The role of a younger sister was both a shortcut to closeness with Astrid and a direct restraint on openly expressing her emotions. Ever since realizing her true feelings, every day for Amalia had been like sitting on pins and needles.

One day, someone will replace her, lying in the same bed as Sister, holding hands, embracing, even kissing.

The mere thought of it made her suffocate.

"Sister, don’t you understand yet?"

"I’ve long stopped being satisfied with just being your little sister."