"Baroness Lyra, it’s been several days, your radiance grows ever more dazzling."

At the banquet, a middle-aged noble wrapped in expensive fur looked at the pink-haired girl before him. His hand rested near his ceremonial sash, his eyes devoid of lust, instead carrying only subtle respect and gratitude.

Hearing the words of Lord Losterling, Lyra, holding her stemmed glass, straightened her legs and lifted her gaze, replied gently.

"Your Lordship flatters me."

It has been a week since news of the great victory arrived. The army of the Kingdom of Velys had been repelled beyond the border. Losterling City, the commercial hub previously closest to the battlefield, had finally shifted from peril to safety, returning to normal production.

Naturally, this was inseparable from Baroness Lyra, one of the key heroes of this victory, a mere twenty-two-year-old early tier Arcanist Mage.

"Flattery is hardly the case. Baroness Lyra’s glorious deeds at the front lines shine like the warm, radiant sun in the sky. Such magnificent achievements frame an already brilliant and captivating Knight of Honor. Anyone who sees her would naturally offer praise."

By noble etiquette, a man of Lord Losterling’s status, bearing the title of Marquis, needn’t have used honors towards Lyra, a mere baron.

But from another perspective, Lyra was both a key confidant of Regent Astrid and an exceptionally young magical prodigy whose future accomplishments were immeasurable.

With her present here, why not take the opportunity to build connections?

Strictly speaking, while the number of Magnus within the empire wasn’t exceptionally large, among the nobility, thanks to centuries of bloodline optimization, the number wasn’t as scarce as the common folk imagined.

It was simply that nobles refused to share magic with commoners and were unwilling to fight on battlefields, resulting in the current state of the Valeria Empire lacking strong soldiers.

The gap between Magnus and Arcanist Mage might seem slight, but in reality, it was a chasm. Countless nobles were stuck at the Magnus rank, never advancing further in their entire lives.

There was a specific theory in magical studies: if one truly had the potential to become an Arcanist Mage, promotion would typically occur before the age of fifty. Beyond that age, it simply meant insufficient talent, with future advancement extremely unlikely.

Lyra was clearly a favored child of fate. Currying favor with her could only bring benefits.

Sensing the man’s flattery stemmed from his recognition of her potential, Lyra showed neither the timidity of humble origins nor any arrogance, responding with dignified composure.

"This victory is the result of all soldiers’ united efforts. It’s not solely my achievement."

Countless people had rushed to befriend her these past few days, not just this marquis. Lyra personally found it hard to adjust to this sudden shift in status. Fortunately, Astrid was beside her, stepping in to help her avoid many social entanglements.

To outsiders, Lyra was closely bound to the Regent as her personal guard. Astrid, meanwhile, was arguably the most outstanding angel investor in imperial history.

One of her investments, the Fourth Princess, had already ascended the throne. Another, Lyra, had now emerged as a blazing Arcanist Mage.

Upon hearing her response, the man shook his head and continued his praise.

"I’ve carefully read the battle report. Just as in the final match held years ago at Elizabeth Academy of Magic, you’ve once again created a miracle, breaking through on the battlefield to defeat an overwhelmingly powerful foe."

Hearing this, Lyra fluttered her eyelashes and spoke softly.

"Was Lord also present at the Imperial City for that match?"

Considering Astrid had mentioned that Lord of Losterling was a reformist-leaning noble, and given how positively the entire commercial city had impressed her during her visit, Lyra didn’t particularly resent his self-interested approach.

Having absorbed Astrid’s influence over time, she’d gradually come to understand the intricate nuances of noble socializing.

"Indeed, such a magnificent event was not something I’d willingly miss."

"Who would have thought the former Honorary Knight would now transform into the empire’s very fortress."

As they conversed, the other guests of honor arrived, the Imperial capital’s perennial center of attention, the empire’s most dazzling gem.

Astrid stepped in wearing delicate, carved metal high heels, a magnificent black dress draped over her form. Her smooth, supple legs were encased in sheer black stockings, exuding mystery and elegance.

Although unspoken, this banquet was also a victory celebration. Even with her busy schedule, Astrid needed to attend at least once, showing her face before the nobles.

Besides, she had another announcement to make tonight.

Hearing the familiar click of heels, Lyra ended her conversation with the lord, her gaze instantly shifted to Astrid like a firefly drawn to light.

Previously, Astrid had been discussing matters with several other Arcanist Mages, so Lyra had arrived early to familiarize herself with the venue and the reformist nobles she might soon connect with through Astrid. Thus, she hadn’t seen Astrid’s transformed appearance immediately.

However... Astrid was as stunning as ever...

Everyone knew the Regent was exceptionally talented. But only those who had seen her understood that even the myriad praises of her abilities in the Empire Weekly couldn’t match the pure, soul-stirring impact of seeing her in person, the sheer force of her beauty.

Precisely because most people share Lyra’s view, Astrid’s past reputation as a mere "trophy" has gradually faded into history. Most likely, upon first meeting this imperial gem, people were so captivated by her outstanding appearance that they overlooked her reserved personality and talents, instinctively judged by looks and magnifying her best qualities.

Now, Astrid was simply adapted to the era’s demands, gradually revealing her extraordinary capabilities.

Ascending the stairs to the highest podium, the crisp footsteps drawing closer, Astrid moved with grace, like a noble black swan, arriving directly before everyone.

"I’m delighted to gather with you all tonight."

Her gaze swept across the audience, pausing briefly on Lyra and Karota, before she continued.

"The significance of tonight’s gathering, I believe, is known to all..."

The vicious criminals had been expelled from the nation. The empire welcomes a rebirth in glory.

The banquet speech had begun.

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

Astrid’s speech was lengthy yet concise, rambling on for nearly half an hour before finally concluding.

Lyra had spent these past days with Astrid and hadn’t seen her prepare any notes for tonight’s address. Judging by her performance, it seemed entirely improvised.

Still, this fits Astrid’s style. At a celebratory banquet like this, formal preparation wasn’t necessary, genuine emotion sufficed.

Both the Third and Fourth Princesses were visibly gifted in oratory.

"...Additionally, there’s another matter, some among us may already know."

After finishing the pleasantries meaningless to these nobles, Astrid touched around and casually dropped a bombshell.

"The current Empress, the honorable Empress Amalia, deeply appreciates your efforts and will arrive in Losterling City tomorrow to personally honor and reward you all."

At these words, not only Lord Losterling but even a few Arcanist Mages showed surprise.

An Empress leaving the capital was a major event. The previous Emperor, Hibbort Valeria, hadn’t left the Imperial capital for seven full years after his ascension.

Astonished by Amalia’s level of attention to the war, everyone turned their eyes back to Astrid. The silver-haired, crimson-eyed Regent simply placed a hand over her chest, her pink lips parting slightly.

"Praise the supreme Empress."

Then, Astrid descended the steps, declaring the evening officially begun.

The Empress... is coming to Losterling City...

Lyra stood rooted, her thoughts lingering on Astrid’s words.

Others might find Amalia’s arrival puzzling, thinking it an overreaction, she could simply wait for them, the nobles, to return to the capital before bestowing rewards.

But Lyra didn’t see it that way. Instinctively, she sensed Amalia was coming mainly for one person.

The royal prince on stage, Astrid herself.

Lost in thought, a pair of elaborately decorated black high heels appear in her line of sight. She looked up to see Astrid approaching with a wine glass.

Crimson eyes reflected Lyra’s fair, delicate face. Astrid gently swirled her red wine, giving the girl a quick once-over.

Tonight, Lyra wore a pale white dress. Her smooth arms were covered by pure white lace sleeves, not a single inch of skin exposed, highlighting her sweet, pure demeanor.

Below, she wore milky-white sheer stockings. The delicate fabric hugs her pale, beautiful legs, accentuating the graceful lines of her limbs. Her small, exquisite white-stockinged feet were held by pinkish-white high-heeled sandals, side-cutout designs resembling delectable cakes adorned with ribbon lace.

Astrid didn’t withhold her praise, speaking softly.

"Lyra, your dress tonight is very lovely."

Despite their daily closeness, Lyra in formal evening wear was quite rare. Usually, for ease of wearing armor, she wore either shirt-and-skirt combos or jacket-and-shorts, ensuring her inner clothing didn’t interfere with holy armor reinforcement.

Hearing Astrid’s words, Lyra’s face flushed slightly before she spoke.

"Astrid... is even more beautiful..."

From the moment she clicked, all eyes had been drawn to her.

In Lyra’s memory, this wasn’t a one-off, it was a certainty.

Astrid pursed her lips, raising her glass to lightly clink with Lyra’s.

"Drink sparingly, Lyra."

"If my Knight of Light drinks too much, she might lose composure."

The last sentence was spoken softly, meant only for the two of them. Lyra stared at Astrid’s face, her gaze lingering on the swirling wine for a second before quickly realizing something was off.

Losing composure when drunk... there had indeed been one such incident...

But in that case, it was clearly a wicked maid who had plied her master with alcohol, then deliberately tempted her.

It wasn’t that she’d willingly lost composure...

"I’ll only have one glass, then switch to juice." Lyra replied.

She’d only intended to go through the motions, never planning to drink much.

Compared to the slightly bitter, astringent wine, Lyra preferred freshly squeezed juice.

Seeing Lyra’s cheeks tinged with a faint blush, Astrid smiled slightly, bringing the glass rim to her lips for a small sip.

"That’s good."

After this brief exchange, Astrid parted from Lyra to speak with other nobles.

Present were Arcanist Mages who fought in the White Maple Town battle. Connecting with these individuals could only benefit Lyra.

The banquet, ostensibly for celebration but truly a social gathering, concluded smoothly after over two hours. Learning that Amalia will arrive the day after tomorrow, nobles who had planned to leave Losterling City within the next two days decided to stay a while longer, postponing other matters until after the Empress’s commendation.

That night, the two boarded a carriage and accepted sobering tea prepared by Catherine, drinking it under the vast night sky.

"Astrid..."

"Hmm?"

After hesitating a moment, Lyra spoke.

"Is the Empress coming just to reward the soldiers?"

"..."

Hearing Lyra’s question, Astrid hesitated unusually for several seconds before replying.

"Perhaps also to see me."

At least in her reply to Astrid’s letter, Amalia had openly expressed her longing.

"I see..."

Lyra, who had already guessed this, nodded, her fingers idly picking at the cuff of her white stockings.

Astrid gazed at Lyra, her eyes slightly profound.

For Amalia, she truly felt longing, yet there were also things that made her both afraid and eager to meet.

It wasn’t just the deterioration of their past sisterly relationship, but also the emotions tied to Lyra.

In these coming days, once Amalia arrived in Losterling City, everything will be answered.

"..."

They probably won’t fight, right?

Memories of the original story’s plot flooded Astrid’s mind like a tide. After a while, she gathered her thoughts and turned to look at Lyra.

The pink-haired, blue-eyed girl in the white dress had finished her sobering tea, her bright eyes fixed on her, like a pink-haired puppy hoping for its master’s affection.

"Astrid, I want to..."

"...kiss you."

A strange unease stirred within her. She didn’t know if it was because she’d learned of Amalia’s impending arrival, but suddenly, Lyra felt an intense desire to kiss Astrid.

When the Empress arrives, will she no longer be able to sleep with Astrid?

Is that why... she feels this sense of reluctance?

Looking at the non-threatening Lyra, Astrid didn’t refuse. She scooted closer, her cherry-pink lips lightly pressing down.

The carriage creaked softly. Under the dim streetlights, the two inside make zero-distance contact. Even Lyra’s hand instinctively rested on Astrid’s leg clad in black stockings.

Two days later, three magic-powered airships appeared high above Losterling City.

Amalia, dressed in a pure white princess gown, standing on the platform, her emerald eyes quietly observing the city below. The high-altitude cold wind brushed through her golden pigtails, swaying like wheat in the breeze.