Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 480: I want more

Night had fallen. Inside the Empress’ private bedroom, a tastefully decorated chamber, gentle breathing was barely audible. Cool evening breeze drifted in from outside, and a silvery moonbeam fell across the windowsill, illuminating a pair of flat sandals placed haphazardly beside the bed, moderately hinting at its owner’s far more agitated state of mind than usual when retiring.

Cradling a petite, boneless-soft golden-haired girl wrapped in a pure white nightgown, Astrid felt the warmth and suppleness of the girl’s body. A faint, delicate fragrance wafted from her hair, mingling with the rhythm of Amalia’s breath and filling Astrid’s nostrils.

After Hibbort’s death, Amalia had redesigned the layout of this private chamber and ordered servants to add more furnishings, infusing it with a more lived-in atmosphere.

Even the large bed they now shared had been replaced, spacious, with mattress and bedding of the finest softness and smoothness. Lying upon it felt as though one were cradled by water and clouds.

It was already past midnight, yet Astrid remained wide awake, her mind endlessly replaying Amalia’ words spoken inside the ancient castle.

This being whom she had always considered as her younger sister had, tonight, laid bare her inner struggle at the crossroads of morality and desire, the overwhelming urge to devour this delicate, soft girl, and the deepening psychological conflict eroding her sense of self.

And most unexpectedly, Amalia had confessed a profound, lover-like love for her.

Even now, with her thoughts clear, the idea still felt unreal to Astrid.

She had shared a light drink with the Duke’s second daughter at dinner, but the alcohol content was low, certainly not enough to cloud her mind so drastically.

Beneath the warm covers, her bare knees were gently clasped between two slender, smooth legs. The girl, in the bloom of youth and freshly bathed, had skin softer than silk, yet unlike silk, warm and yielding to the touch.

To avoid disturbing the girl in her arms, Astrid regulated her breathing to match Amalia’s, their breaths rising and falling in unison. Her crimson-red eyes gazed at the tiny, white-gowned girl before her, expression deep and contemplative.

Just hours ago, she had accepted Amalia’ confession of love, or rather, promised to give her the love she desired.

Yet deep in her heart, Astrid did not feel those intense, passionate emotions that would transcend sisterly affection and draw them closer.

After over four years of close companionship, she had grown to her role as the older sister. No matter how much Amalia adored her, no matter how clingy she became, Astrid had never relieved deeper feelings.

To be more precise, before Amalia’ confession, she had never regarded her as a woman she could love romantically.

After raising her for so long, how could she suddenly shift into romantic feelings? Astrid was open to new experiences, but her thoughts weren’t that erratic.

"..."

And then there was Lyra.

Although Astrid hadn’t formally defined her relationship with Lyra, the romantic tension between them was obvious, not only to Amalia, her rival, but even to the perceptive head maid.

The fated heroine of the original novel, who had never shown interest in romance, now has her heart blossoming.

Lyra, Amalia, the Holy Light Knight, the Blonde tyrant.

Why, after the story’s trajectory changed, were all these previously uninterested characters suddenly falling in love?

Her dear younger sister, who wrote the original novel, had never told her this was going to be a yuri story.

Astrid closed her eyes. A pink-haired girl in a long dress stood by a lakeside, her cheeks faintly flushed, clear as day. The next moment, the image shifted to a weeping blonde-haired girl, tear-streaked and stuttering her affection.

The two confessions, from two different people, interwoven in her mind like a tangled ball of yarn, impossible to untie.

Unknowingly, she had become a woman burdened with sin, but not the kind of sin she’d once committed as villainess.

Amalia’s breath grazed Astrid’s collarbone. The faint puff of air, like a feather, gently teased the skin left bare by her nightgown, stirring her heart in a way it hadn’t been stirred before.

Amalia wanted to move forward with her. This love, burning at the level of the soul, cannot be extinguished.

Yet Astrid still treated her like a younger sister, fulfilling Amalia’s desires out of familial affection rather than romantic love.

Was that really what made them lovers?

Did Amalia want her response, or did she also hope Astrid could feel the same way in return?

To treat her as a lover, feeling an uncontrollable urge to embrace her, craving physical closeness, wanting to whisper promises of love, desiring to be together always.

If only Amalia held such feelings while Astrid could step away at any moment, wouldn’t that be too cruel?

Reflecting on this, Astrid recalled her past interactions with Amalia. Whether she admitted it or not, throughout their sisterly bond, Amalia had always occupied the lower position, a little sister who had lost her parents, perpetually yearning for love from her one remaining relative: her older sister.

She feared being hated by her sister, feared being abandoned by her closest kin, feared the warmth she once knew would vanish one day.

Astrid had tried to help her overcome these deep-seated insecurities through love and attention, but years of emotional isolation and a tragic childhood made it hard for Amalia to break free from her inner demons.

She wanted to become bright and strong, to be the kind of resilient, self-reliant Empress she dreamed of being, but she simply couldn’t.

Now, Amalia had mustered the courage to confess her love, yet the response remained one-sided, a mere promise from Astrid. They had still not achieved emotional equality.

"..."

The arm around Amalia’s waist quietly slipped away. Astrid gently lifted a strand of golden hair and tucked it behind the girl’s ear. Her gaze lingered on Amalia’s snow-white shoulders, then drifted downward to the skin left exposed by the nightgown.

How could she make Amalia feel that she, too, was being loved with the same depth of emotion?

By doing what lovers do, expressing what lovers feel, considering the responsibilities and expectations of a lover.

But if she couldn’t truly love her, none of it would last.

The core issue was actually very clear, and there was only one.

She just needed to truly fall in love with her.

Even if, at this moment, sisterly affection still occupied 99.9% of her heart, as long as she was willing to change, willing to shift her mindset, there was still a chance for it to happen.

Just as Amalia’s feelings for her likely hadn’t started as romantic love, probably evolving gradually from familial affection until, tonight, they finally surged forth at some threshold.

Now, it was her turn to try, try to fall in love with Amalia.

No longer using her role as "older sister" as the foundation for everything.

And even Lyra, she had never expressed romantic love toward her, never taken a step closer.

At the time, their mutual affection had clearly gone beyond friendship.

Looking back, if Lyra wasn’t so easily pleased, such a simple girl who’d be overjoyed at the slightest opportunity, she might have already been hurt by Astrid’s emotional coldness.

She needed to be more proactive, fall in love with those who loved her, and whom she held for affection.

Astrid exhaled softly through her nose. Outside, the moonlight remained gentle. She gazed at Amalia’s delicate features and slowly lowered her head.

Her lips brushed through golden strands, then gently pressed against Amalia’s forehead. Astrid’s touch was as tender as could be, but the moment her soft lips met skin, she underestimated how the Empress would react to a lover’s kiss.

Those clear, lake-like eyes fluttered open. Confused yet dazed, shimmering with moisture, like a Sleeping Beauty awakened by a prince’s kiss.

Seeing the slender, pale neck before her, realizing it was her sister kissing her, Amalia’s thoughts quickly cleared. The corners of her lips couldn’t help but rise.

"Sister..."

The girl’s voice was soft and sweet, as if soaked in syrup, completely unlike the commanding tone she used when issuing orders or laws, that aura of authority impossible to defy.

"...Can’t sleep?"

What Amalia really wondered was, was she still dreaming?

Sister had actually... kissed her while she was asleep...

Before, it had always been a sleepy, comforting goodnight kiss before bed. But this one was silent, unannounced, a kiss while she was already asleep.

Her heart felt like a little sparrow chirping excitedly, and her drowsiness disappeared instantly.

Feeling the legs around her tightened, Astrid nodded softly.

"Mm."

"Thinking about my little princess."

Thinking about their future. And about ourselves.

Amalia blinked, then softly parted her lips.

"So... what did Sister decide?"

Why did she kiss her so suddenly?

Although Amalia cherished the intimacy, she was even more curious about the reason behind it.

Was this still her emotionally reserved, gentle sister?

Hearing the question, Astrid paused for a moment, then replied softly.

"I’ve made up my mind."

About how to respond to love.

Having spoken, Astrid placed her hand on Amalia’ lower back, drawing the girl closer. Amalia, more willing than, didn’t resist, instead, she instinctively snuggled deeper into Astrid’s embrace.

"Amalia..."

"Mm?"

After softly calling her name, Astrid looked into the golden-haired girl’s eyes. Her crimson gaze met Amalia’ blue ones, a faint warmth of affection shimmering within.

Then, using the space created by Amalia tilting her head up to meet her gaze, Astrid fluttered her eyelashes and leaned down once more.

This time, her target wasn’t the smooth, pale forehead, but those two lips, soft and pink like cherry blossoms.

Completely unprepared for Astrid’s boldness, Amalia’ eyes barely registered a flicker of surprise before she felt a wave of warmth on her lips.

Unlike her own past attempts, filled with longing yet restrained, barely grazing the surface, this intimate act, led by Astrid, overwhelmed her in a way that past restraint never could. To put it bluntly, the Empress of the Empire felt her very soul trembling.

Body heat exchanged. Amalia noticed the warmth, meaning Astrid was relatively cooler. Soft lips pressed gently, and Astrid felt a sensation similar to Amalia’s boneless body, looking like flower petals, but feeling more like a soft, delectable cotton candy.

For a moment, both Astrid and Amalia were dazed, as if the entire world had narrowed to just the person before them and the soft point of contact between their lips.

After a while, Amalia realized what was happening. Her misty blue eyes half-lidded, craving more.

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

Doing this with a changed mindset truly felt different from before.

She didn’t dislike being intimate with Amalia. In fact, during the kiss, Astrid noticed her blood rushing faster, her limbs growing warm.

But the next second, deep-seated beliefs rooted in her heart brought a sharp pang of guilt.

She had instinctively reacted to someone who, just hours ago, she still considered her sister...

Her heart pounded faster. Yet Amalia’s reaction was even more intense. Her snow-white cheeks flushed like twilight clouds. Her legs tightened, skin gently rubbed.

Swallowing slightly, her breath, which had instinctively paused, resumed. Amalia took a deep inhale through her nose, her teeth gently biting her lower lip, struggling to calm her wildly beating heart.

After a while, Amalia licked her lips and whispered.

"Sister..."

"...I need to go to the washroom."

Then, the golden-haired girl in a strapless nightgown rose from the bed, her bare delicate feet searching for the slippers she had kicked off earlier, and hurried away, closing the washroom door behind her.

Leaning against the door with her back, Amalia stared at the sink filled with various cleansing products, her heartbeat resolved to settle.

It was... so embarrassing...

Just a single kiss, and she had lost control like this.

It wasn’t just the emotional fluctuations she’d shown Astrid, there were even more physical changes she hadn’t revealed.

She was far more sensitive to Astrid’s touch than she’d imagined.

About fifteen minutes later, Amalia returned to the bed, slipping back into Astrid’s arms and wrapping herself around her like an octopus.

"Sister..."

"I want more."

Now, it would probably be her who couldn’t sleep.