Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 485: [VOLUME 7:FRONTLINE] Cold

The day after the new Empress’s coming-of-age ceremony, inside the imperial sleeping chambers. Feeling a gentle breeze brush against her cheek, as if a hand were tenderly caressing her, Amalia fluttered her eyelashes slightly and slowly awoke from her slumber.

The soft, spacious bed now held only her. Warm morning light streamed through the windows into the bedroom, fully illuminating the room. An ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling, unfamiliar to her. Even the air before her carried tiny dust particles, turning the paths of light into visible beams.

’Where did Sister go...’

Her two slender legs, still tucked beneath the covers, instinctively rubbed against each other. Amalia didn’t feel the uniquely warm friction of silk fabric. Instead, she felt the natural cool smoothness of bare skin.

Her long white stockings were gone. The undergarments that barely covered her delicate body, easily slipped off with just a tug, had also disappeared. Amalia lowered her head to search, but it was gone entirely, from the inside out.

Everything from last night felt like a dream. Amalia raised a hand to gently touch her temple, biting her red lips with pearly teeth. Sensual images kept surging in her mind.

From the moment she had hooked her silk-clad, soft snowy feet around Astrid’s dress, to reach across that smooth, flawless back and touch the clasp.

The last thing she remembered was the dim light in the room, the pure white bedsheet damp and wrinkled from being kicked by her toes, and her own legs draped over Astrid’s body, two white-stockinged feet, dangling limply in the air like crescent moons.

And of course... that indescribable sensation, reaching deep into her soul, making both spirit and body tremble with exquisite pleasure...

So this is what it feels like to do such a thing.

Her body still seemed to tingle with electric waves of pleasure, her legs feeling weak. Dehydrated from the night’s exertion, Amalia’s throat felt dry. Her ten delicate, adorable white toes curled up quietly beneath the blanket.

Even in that state, Astrid had still refrained from taking the final step, instead doing her best to help Amalia release her tension, letting her taste a pleasure she had never known before.

Amalia herself never imagined that those slender, ivory-white fingers, normally seen delicately holding tea trays or wine glasses, could bring her such overwhelming sensations.

At that moment, the blonde girl even felt a strange illusion, as if she were melting into that rhythm, slowly and steadily like a heartbeat.

No wonder so many nobles were addicted to such acts, constantly spawning endless scandals.

Doing this with someone you love, amplified by deep emotions, was indeed comfortably unfair.

Pushing herself up slowly with her hands on the pillow, a faint sound of the door opening reached Amalia’s ears, followed by extremely soft footsteps.

Astrid, dressed in a pure black silk dress, carried a cup of tea. Without wearing high heels, her tender feet, wrapped in smooth black silk, stepped quietly onto the carpet, making her steps far less sharp than usual.

"Awake, Amalia?"

"Have some water."

She sat beside the bed, not minding whether she might soil it, and brought the perfectly-tempered tea close to the girl’s lips.

Seeing this, Amalia obediently lowered her head and took a small sip, moistening her throat before softly asking:

"Where is this?"

Perhaps due to just waking up, or from the long night of endless exertion, her voice now carries a slight huskiness. Yet it was overwhelmingly soft and tender, like snow melted by sunlight.

"Next door to your room." Astrid gently smoothed Amalia’s golden hair, which shimmered in the light, and tucked it neatly behind her.

"You sweated a lot last night, and the sheets were too uncomfortable to rest on, so I carried you here to sleep."

It was high summer, and nighttime temperatures weren’t low. With windows and doors closed during their intimate exploration, sweating was inevitable.

Of course, whether the bed was dampened more by sweat or by deeper, passionate affection was another matter entirely. But Astrid, mindful of Amalia’s shyness, saw no need to clarify.

Amalia gave a small nod, sipping the tea slowly until finished. Then she stretched out her arms and wrapped them around Astrid’s.

After expending so much energy last night, Astrid had barely had the strength to change Amalia into a nightgown, let alone anywhere else. Now, with the girl clinging to her arm, the smooth sensation of bare skin passed through the thin white fabric, directly to her own.

"I love you, Sister."

After saying this, Amalia continued hugging Astrid, pressing her cheek against the woman’s arm, her delicate nose nuzzling slightly, savoring this brief moment of peace and tranquility after the storm.

Half a minute later, Amalia spoke softly.

"What about those clothes..."

Hearing this, Astrid slightly tilted her gaze, elegantly crossing her silk-clad legs.

"They’ve been given to the maids for cleaning."

Mentioning this, Astrid recalled the moment last night when she unfastened the girl’s sheer lingerie, and spoke in a gentle tone.

"That style... doesn’t resemble anything from the royal atelier..."

Typically, the royal tailors focus their efforts on outer garments, such as the princesses’ dresses or the prince’s robes. Undergarments only needed to be made of good material and comfortable to wear; there was no need for extravagance.

But Amalia’s attire from last night was clearly far from ordinary.

Hearing Astrid bring it up, Amalia curved her lips slightly and whispered:

"I designed it myself and had the tailors prepare it."

She had personally reviewed every material, every texture, ensuring even on her coming-of-age night, her sister’s experience would be flawless.

So Amalia’s exceptional artistic talent could be used in such a way?

Just as a complex emotion flickered through Astrid’s heart, Amalia continued.

"Don’t you think, Sister, that compared to nothing at all, something half-revealed is the most beautiful?"

As a skilled artist, Amalia naturally understood the allure of subtlety, like seeing flowers through mist, or a beauty half-hidden behind a fan. Silk draping the body, garments slightly undone, sweet natural fragrance filling the air between them, compared to blunt physical contact, this hazy, dreamlike charm was actually harder to resist.

Listening to Amalia seriously discuss the necessity of her special lingerie, Astrid momentarily didn’t know how to respond. After a pause, she reached out and gently ruffled the girl’s hair.

"The logic is sound, I suppose."

But hearing it from Amalia’s mouth somehow felt strange.

Finally, everything had happened too quickly, from the confession to last night’s intimate awakening. Astrid, who had been Amalia’s close sister for nearly five years, still couldn’t fully adjust to this new identity.

No matter how hard she tried to love her as a partner, the instinct to protect and care for her younger sister is still overwhelmingly dominated over any desire to take from her as a lover.

That was exactly why Astrid had ultimately stopped short of crossing that final line, choosing instead to guide Amalia, as the girl herself had phrased it, in how to relieve loneliness.

At least in this matter, Astrid didn’t believe she was being overly conservative, clinging to her former role and comfort zone. Rather, it was Amalia who had been far too proactive.

Just as she had confessed that night, Amalia’s deep affection stemmed from finally receiving the care and attention she’d long been deprived of. This acquired love made her different from other love-struck girls of her age, allowing her to express affection that was both shy and poised, yet utterly bold in its pursuit.

Take the most obvious example: if Lyra had been in that position last night, she most likely wouldn’t have dressed herself like a sweet, creamy little cake, wrapped in ribbons and delivered to Astrid’s bed, actively seeking affection and allowing herself to be mentioned.

Or rather, she wouldn’t have done so at this point in time. That pink-haired maid, raised on knightly romances, would at most blush and cling tightly to Astrid in bed, trembling like a boiling magic-powered kettle, puffing steam. She certainly wouldn’t have done something as provocative as using her silk-covered toes to teasingly lift Astrid’s hem, the kind of daring act Amalia had done without hesitation.

Gazing at the golden-haired girl before her, dressed in a simple spaghetti-strap nightgown and appearing so obedient, Astrid gently pinched Amalia’s soft, smooth cheek and said softly:

"Rest a little longer before returning to work." 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The most urgent battle reports wouldn’t arrive for another hour or two; the rest of the state affairs could wait.

Amalia gave a slight nod in agreement, but still added:

"Then have Elise send over the proposals that can be handled easily."

The Empire could not go a single day without leadership. Even after experiencing unparalleled pleasure from her sister last night, she still had to work hard today, giving no opportunity for vermin and snakes to erode the Empire.

Seeing Amalia so diligent, not even wasting a moment after last night, Astrid tenderly kissed the girl’s forehead and said softly:

"In that case, I’ll stay and help you handle them."

As long as they didn’t fool around, two people working together would surely be more efficient.

Amalia sweetly replied with a "Okay," continuing to nuzzle her smooth golden hair against Astrid’s arm.

.......

After the coming-of-age ceremony, news of the close relationship between the new Empress and her sister was once again confirmed. Rumors spread through the streets claiming the new Empress and the current Regent shared the same bed when indoors, rode in the same carriage when outdoors, and even dined together without restraint. There were even multiple sightings of them sharing a single cup of wine.

Regardless of how much truth there was to these claims, at least for now, the Karis Empire had once again entered a rare period in history, a time of harmonious rule between monarch and regent, working hand in hand to govern the nation.

Beyond this news, another major development was the academic reform led by Anthony, Dean of the Elizabeth Academy of Magic. The Arcanist mage announced he would allocate more teaching resources to foundational courses, ensuring every new student could keep up with the curriculum.

If it had only been about adding basic magic theory courses, few nobles would have objected. But the other reform, adjusting the weight of different subjects in graduation evaluations, ostensibly to promote magical device development, sparked some murmurs of discontent.

Of course, these minor discordant voices were insignificant compared to the overwhelming positive coverage in the Empire Weekly, and the undeniable battlefield victories achieved through the use of magical weapons. They quickly drowned in the tide, barely leaving a ripple.

With the short-term instability following the new Empress’ ascension gradually calming under the joint efforts of the Empress and Regent, the academic reform at Elizabeth Academy of Magic had become an established fact. With such a model in place, given enough time, other academies within the Empire will inevitably follow suit, eventually reaching the same pace.

Meanwhile, far from the capital, in the northern reaches of the Empire, within Duke Charles’s territory, a small town along the border supply line was experiencing anomalies unnoticed by the outside world.

"Cough... sob... Whimper..."

The biting cold wind lashed against the faces of passersby. Low, persistent coughing echoed through the air.

This was the town of Siyak, the terminal point where several supply lines transporting materials to the frontlines converged. To the northwest stood the fortress of Liya Tower, along with two secondary strongholds.

Compared to the tense war atmosphere at the front, Siyak, located farther from the front lines with a strategic buffer zone in between, had not been fully evacuated. Their residents continue living in their homes while contributing manpower to transport teams, handling part of the logistical supply chain.

"Just leave it by the wall. These arrows need to be delivered to the garrison at Liya Tower later."

The speaker was the logistics commander, a high-ranking soldier clad in silver-white armor, possessing the strength of an Early Tier Master Knight, and one of Duke Charles’s trusted men.

Three transport routes branched out from Siyak, supplying various defensive outposts, so incoming supplies needed redistribution.

"Cough... cough... Understood..."

Hearing the soldier’s order, several men responsible for unloading walked to the back of the carriage, lifting heavy wooden crates and carrying them to the designated spot.

Sensing the intense chill in the air, the logistics commander observed the workers unloading cargo, noticing how their backs trembled with each cough. Beneath his helmet, his brow slightly furrowed.

He couldn’t tell if it was just the unusually cold weather or something else, but more and more townspeople have been coughing lately.

They were all born and raised in the north, long accustomed to the piercing cold winds. And it was still summer, the relatively warmer part of the year.

Why were so many people coughing?

If it were just a few cases, he might have understood. But this has been going on for nearly a week now, with the number of coughing individuals steadily increasing.

His instincts told him to seek a medic’s opinion. So once the unloading was completed, he immediately arranged for the town’s physician to come to the site, offering free diagnosis under the pretext of military logistical welfare.

"..."

Using his mental energy to examine each unloader’s physical condition, while also inquiring about their symptoms, the physician, a peak tier Sorcerer, quickly reached a conclusion after hearing their persistent descriptions of coughing and runny noses, with no other adverse effects.

"Judging by the symptoms, it’s just common cold exposure. A few days of rest should resolve it."

Such symptoms occur every year, although they were more concentrated this time, making it somewhat unusual.

Hearing the physician’s words, the commander nodded. Remembering that the new Empress had recently allocated ample healing supplies to the frontlines, he quietly whispered:

"Go collect some herbal medicine. Don’t let it affect your work."