Princess’s Struggle for Survival

Seeing Princess Astrid step into the carriage, Elowen turned her head to glance at Earl Tristian, who stood beside her, and her thin lips parted slightly.

"Don't you dislike Princess Astrid? Why did you take the initiative to come here today?"

Elowen's presence alone would have sufficed, and she hadn't expected her eldest nephew, the future heir of the Velmont family, to take time out of his busy schedule to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony at the alchemy event.

Tristian, standing beside her, retracted his gaze. Upon hearing Elowen's question, his expression stiffened slightly, and his slender fingers absently brushed against the metal cufflinks on his sleeve.

"A while ago, the list of ale wine purchases was finalized. I happened to be free this afternoon with nothing pressing to attend to, so I thought I'd come and take a look."

As the eldest son of the Duke, Tristian Velmont was usually occupied with managing countless responsibilities.

It was rare for him to have a moment of leisure, yet instead of resting, he chose to spend it in the company of someone he supposedly disliked.

This behavior defied common sense, and his explanation did little to address the heart of Elowen's question.

Hearing this, the woman narrowed her eyes slightly, her gaze resting calmly on Tristian. After a moment, she spoke again, her tone measured.

"...I won't pry too much into the affairs of you young people. As the future head of the family, you must have your own judgments and considerations."

Elowen couldn't fully grasp what Tristian was thinking, but through her recent interactions with Astrid, she had come to realize that the princess was nothing like the rumors suggested.

Beyond her mastery of perfume preparation, the young princess had displayed remarkable conversational skills during their business discussions.

Her words were not only well-structured but also revealed a deep understanding of commercial operations, far beyond what one would expect from a novice negotiator.

During today's event, Astrid hadn't hesitated to bend down and inspect the equipment closely, showing none of the delicacy often associated with royalty.

Observing this, Elowen couldn't help but feel impressed.

This imperial princess, so favored by the emperor, possessed many unexpected qualities that set her apart.

How could someone so composed and rational have inspired such fervent pursuits from others?

Elowen had a faint suspicion that Astrid harbored no particular affection for Tristian.

The princess's gaze, whenever it fell upon the Earl, was cool and detached, devoid of any hint of romantic interest.

After a moment of silence, Tristian lowered his eyes, his hands resting at his sides. He didn't respond to his aunt's words.

Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure why he had come today.

Was it possible that he was drawn to Astrid Calliste? The thought struck him as absurd, and a self-deprecating smile flickered across his lips. He turned his head slightly, signaling the servants to prepare the carriage.

No matter how much Astrid's behavior had changed, it wasn't enough to alter his feelings toward her. The idea of him liking her was nothing short of ridiculous.

As Tristian wrestled with his thoughts, Astrid, seated beside Charlotte in the carriage, closed her eyes briefly.

The soothing scent of Charlotte's perfume, mingled with her natural fragrance, helped ease Astrid's tension.

"Lady Charlotte, have you made any progress recently?" Astrid asked suddenly.

Charlotte, gently stroking Astrid's hair, replied in a soft voice, "I've consulted some ancient texts that mention various possibilities for the formation of enchantments."

"The situation we encountered seems most similar to a scenario where a high-level but weakened entity attempts to use such magic to replenish the energy required for its recovery."

That night, Charlotte had sensed an unusually powerful aura emanating from the shadowy figure.

If the entity was capable of creating such a potent enchantment, its strength must have once rivaled that of an Arcanist level mage.

Yet, it had shown no desire to confront her, allowing the enchantment to be destroyed without resistance. This contradiction puzzled her.

"High in level but low in strength?" Astrid repeated softly, struggling to grasp Charlotte's meaning.

"You can think of it as an entity that once possessed power comparable to a Peak Level Sorcerer. However, due to certain circumstances, its strength has diminished, leaving it with only its knowledge and mental capacity—a shell of its former self."

It was as though the person remained the same, but their power had waned.

Astrid nodded thoughtfully, her tone calm as she responded.

"We didn't catch any traces of it. Could it leave behind any hidden dangers?"

"There will definitely be some risks, but for now, it seems there's no need to worry too much."

Charlotte paused for a moment before continuing.

"This time, we discovered it early. Its barrier was directly broken by external forces, and it won't be able to rebuild it for a long time. With this lesson, it's unlikely to appear near the imperial capital again."

Out of an abundance of caution, Charlotte had shared some of her findings with the higher-ups at the academy, and an investigation was already underway.

Knowing that Charlotte's reassurance was reliable, Astrid rested her head lightly on the woman's shoulder.

Her long silver-white hair mingled with Charlotte's green locks, like ink spilled across white paper.

Feeling the warmth of the fabric against her skin, Charlotte's expression softened.

She leaned her head closer to Astrid's, her nose gently catching the faint fragrance of the princess's hair.

The carriage moved forward steadily, the atmosphere inside peaceful and serene.

Across from them, Elise and Lyra sat quietly. Elise had her eyes closed, while Lyra leaned against the window, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery.

The fine sunlight streaming through the window fell on the white silk draped over the girl's legs, making the fabric appear even more delicate and soft, like the frosting on a tempting cream cake.

Lyra glanced out at the rapidly receding clock tower and pavilion, her blue eyes lowering as she observed the two figures snuggled together opposite her. Her expression was unreadable, her thoughts unclear.

Upon returning to the palace, Astrid prepared a meal for Charlotte. The woman looked at Astrid with surprise after tasting the food, her admiration for the princess growing once again.

What had Astrid experienced over the years to have acquired so many unusual skills?

After bidding farewell to Charlotte, Astrid noticed the sunset painting the horizon.

Realizing it was getting late, she adjusted the skirt of her dress and made her way toward the dormitory, her black silk stockings gliding smoothly with each step.

She had plans to visit Amalia later, and time was of the essence.

As the sound of a door closing softly echoed from the opposite room, Lyra was about to retreat to her own quarters when a maid approached her, carrying a large package. The maid spoke in a hushed tone.

"Miss Lyra, this package is for you."

"...For me?" Lyra stopped, her expression one of mild surprise.

The maid nodded, glancing at the label on the package before whispering, "It's addressed to Lyra Beckett, with the location listed as Princess Astrid's Mansion."

There was no one else in the palace with the same name, so Lyra politely thanked the maid, accepted the package, and closed the door behind her. She sat down at her desk, her curiosity piqued.

The faint scent of hay and the familiar aroma of coarse ale wafted from the package, bringing a small smile to Lyra's lips.

She picked up a pair of scissors, carefully cut the twine binding the package, and began to unwrap it.

At the top of the package was a letter, her name, Lyra Beckett, neatly inscribed in the upper left corner.

Beneath it lay a thick, heavy bag. Lyra picked it up, her fingers brushing against the coarse material, and soon, a faint clicking sound came from within.

Was it her mother's wheat cake?

Setting the bag aside, Lyra opened the envelope, gently pinching the corner of the letter with her fingers and pulling it out.

As she had suspected, it was a letter from her hometown.

...

At half past nine in the evening, Lyra stepped out of her room and knocked on the door across the hall.

After a few seconds, there was no sound of footsteps from within. She raised her hand and knocked a few more times, then waited for half a minute, clutching something in her hands.

When she was certain no one was inside, she slowly turned away.

It's so late… Why isn't Elise in her room?

Lyra blinked, then walked softly to Astrid's bedroom. She raised her hand close to the door, hesitating whether to knock.

At this hour, it was possible that Her Royal Highness Astrid was resting. Would knocking disturb her?

After a moment of internal struggle, just as Lyra decided to leave and return the next day, the bedroom door suddenly opened from within.

Astrid stepped out, dressed in a pure black gauze princess dress with a small leather bag at her waist.