Princess's Struggle for Survival

Staring at the red wine in the goblet, its surface constantly scattering gentle, soft points of light, and at those alluring crimson eyes nearly the same shade as the wine itself, Lyra seemed to have no reason to refuse.

She lightly picked up the glass beside Astrid’s hand, leaning back against the desk and letting the pale pink skirt hem be pressed by the edge, along with the soft thighs sheathed in white stockings, which sank in slightly.

"Astrid... were you sitting here watching the whole time?" Lyra asked softly.

Because there were so many people at the victory banquet, it wasn’t convenient to hold it indoors, so the entire dinner was set up outside, on the open ground near the city gate.

Thanks to the steaming meat and the rough barley ale that warmed the body, even in this bleak, frigid land, the soldiers attending didn’t feel particularly cold.

Astrid, hearing that, took a small sip of red wine. Her exquisitely made silk gown swayed slightly with the motion.

One sleek, glossy leg in black stockings rested over her knee, yet was mostly hidden beneath the lotus-leaf trim of her pure-black skirt.

Through the haze, Lyra could only glimpse her lover’s straight, flawless calf. Bathed in warm lamplight, the thin stocking fabric gleamed even more.

"Mm. I was wondering whether they’re satisfied with this victory banquet..."

The slightly astringent liquid bloomed between her lips and teeth. The faint taste of alcohol kept brushing Astrid’s palate.

The silver-haired, red-eyed Imperial Regent gave her wineglass a gentle swirl; the surface of the wine rose and fell like waves on the sea, almost as if a woman were teasing it with the smooth tip of a foot wrapped in fine black silk, the black high heel swaying like a boat.

"...And I was watching Lyra too."

Watching the pink-haired girl in holy-white armor darting through the crowd, like a pink butterfly forever fluttering.

At Astrid’s words, Lyra unconsciously pressed her lips together, then, like Astrid, took a small sip of wine.

Completely different from barley ale, this fine vintage from Capital City is mellow on the tongue, dry but not bitter. It relied on that malty, barrel-fermented flavor, yet carries a strong fruit aroma, and tasted sweeter overall.

Putting aside that she didn’t particularly like drinking in the first place, if she had to choose, Lyra preferred this kind of fruit wine.

"Astrid... why are you watching me...?"

Other than drinking a few cups to warm up the mood, so the soldiers would know the prohibition really had been lifted and could relax and enjoy the banquet, she hadn’t done much.

At most, she’d told the inspectors to keep a closer eye and not disrupt everyone else.

Astrid’s gaze shifted from the window back to Lyra, her gentle voice.

"Lyra’s so cute. Who could possibly hold back from looking?"

Watching the knight lady running around in the cold wind, Astrid had wanted to call her over for a drink long ago.

Lyra’s cheeks warmed faintly, like the alcohol she’d had earlier finally decided to take effect, her tone turning lighter as well.

"...When I talk with a straight face like that... am I too cute...?"

Just like petite Amalia sometimes wore uncomfortable metal high heels that noticeably increased her height to project imperial majesty, Lyra, though not a harsh person, still tried not to show her green, immature side in front of the soldiers, so orders could be carried out efficiently.

A stern face, a serious tone, an appropriate display of unshakable authority as the highest commander, these were required lessons, no different from strategic planning and tactical deployment.

Hearing Lyra’s doubt, Astrid shook her head, voice soft.

"Mm. Very cute."

In front of others she held the commander’s posture, serious and resolute, unhurried in everything, clear-minded, the Empire’s bulwark, yet in private she was a clingy little pink-haired puppy.

Tease her a few words and she’d blush and her heart would race; add a bit of physical contact, like lifting a leg in black stockings to lightly rub, or slowly breathing warm air by her ear, and she’d soften so thoroughly she couldn’t even hold herself up.

Whatever Astrid was thinking as she said it, being praised made Lyra’s heart turn sweet.

Her clear blue eyes flickered with little points of light; her mood visibly lifted.

"Astrid... you’re so cute..." the pink-haired girl said.

Astrid raised a brow, repeating in a low voice.

"Cute?"

This was the second time she’d heard Lyra say that. Did a word so utterly mismatched with her really suit her?

"Mm..." Lyra hummed quietly, then continued.

"I don’t know why. I just... feel that way."

Whether it was temperament or looks, or even down to how she dressed, or that rose-cool fragrance that lingered around her body and never grew tiresome, Astrid was obviously the cold and seductive type. "Cute" didn’t really fit.

And yet Lyra still felt her lover somehow matches the word.

Maybe it was that as long as she kept staring, her heart would melt a little, into something cute.

Astrid guessed it was Lyra’s thick love-filter at work.

After all, even if Astrid covered her lips to yawn, the pink-haired girl would flutter her lashes and stare. So Astrid understood.

Although, come to think of it, Astrid was no better, otherwise she wouldn’t keep, again and again, wanting to bully that simple-minded little pinky.

The blush on a maiden’s cheeks surpasses every kind of beauty.

Taking another sip, Astrid looked at Lyra’s legs pressed against the desk edge. After the wine slid down her throat, she spoke slowly.

"Standing like that the whole time, aren’t you tired?"

"Eh? I’m fine..."

Holding her glass, Lyra kept her two white-stockinged snow legs straight and together.

Being too far away ruins the mood of drinking. She’d agreed to keep Astrid company for a glass; she couldn’t exactly run off to sit by the bed.

Watching the girl’s slightly flushed cheeks and the long lashes carrying scattered sparkles, Astrid lowered her free hands, lifted the lotus-trim skirt that covered her soft thighs, and revealed more of that night-dark, glossy, fine stocking like chocolate.

She also shifted from crossing her legs to placing them together, making room for Lyra’s next move.

"Come sit here, Lyra," Astrid said.

Lyra froze for a moment, gaze dropping onto her lover’s smooth, jade-like legs in black stockings, her blue eyes going slightly unfocused.

"S-Sit... where...?"

"Besides my lap, is there anywhere else?"

As if to emphasize she wasn’t joking, Astrid pinched her skirt hem between her fingers.

Seeing Lyra stammer, she couldn’t help laughing inside.

So bold in certain steps, especially with those stockinged legs and places even farther down.

There had been more excessive things than this. So why get shy over simply sitting?

Her fingers lifted higher. The dark shade between the folds grew brighter.

The lace at the top of her stockings, so intensely tempting, was exposed to the air, along with a flash of blinding white, revealing that even if this wasn’t a short-style JK skirt, with an aristocratic dress you could still tug up the hem yourself to create an absolute territory beneath.

"Are you sure you’re not coming?" The silver-haired beauty curled her lips teasingly, her hand not stopping.

Seeing Astrid grow bolder, pulling higher even after the garter ring snug against her thighs was revealed, before she could enter steam-maiden mode, Lyra blushed, biting her lip.

Her two white-stockinged little feet, shoes already removed, stood daintily on the carpet and inched towards Astrid, careful and hesitant.

She turned her head away, desperate to look at the skirt scenery her lover was half-revealing, and sat down gently, her white-stockinged legs pressed against Astrid, shyly held tightly together.

The next second, Astrid’s arm circled Lyra’s slender waist. Through the thin white shirt, she felt the girl’s soft abdomen, supple, yet not lacking strength.

"Good girl, Lyra."

Once Lyra adjusted her posture and found a fairly comfortable angle, Astrid kept her thighs together, but her two black-stockinged feet quietly hooked Lyra’s delicate ankles, coaxing apart those tightly closed white-stockinged calves.

Warm breath brushed the back of Lyra’s neck. The wine aroma in the air grew more distinct, mixed with the faint fragrance in Astrid’s hair.

Leaning back into that smooth, full softness, Lyra took another sip of red wine, trying to cool down with the slight chill of the liquid, only for it to do almost nothing, instead stoking the heat in her body.

Luckily, Astrid didn’t do anything more. She simply held Lyra by the waist and sipped her wine little by little.

A few minutes later, the glass was empty. The distant banquet continued, noisy conversation drifting with the wind in every direction; even here, Astrid could faintly hear it.

"More?" Astrid asked.

Lyra’s glass had already been drained in her effort to distract herself. Hearing Astrid, she first asked softly in return.

"Depends on Astrid... do you want to continue?"

"Mm."

"Then don’t get drunk. It’s bad for you."

Hearing Lyra’s sweet words filled with concern, Astrid fluttered her lashes and spoke softly.

"With only this much, I won’t get drunk."

"And are you treating me like a baby, Lyra~?"

As the pampered Third Princess of Imperial City, someone who constantly participated in all manner of social banquets, Astrid’s alcohol tolerance was far too high. Besides, this wine wasn’t strong to begin with.

"...I’m just reminding you!"

Handing her glass to Astrid, in no time the goblet was filled again. Lyra accepted the cup Astrid passed back, before she could drink, she heard Astrid speak.

"Wait a moment."

As she spoke, Lyra felt the soft yet magnificent pressure against her back strengthen, and a warmth appeared under her ribs. In her peripheral vision was Astrid’s fair-as-snow lotus arm.

Astrid brought Lyra’s wine to Lyra’s pink lips. Leaning forward, breathing like orchids, she murmured,

"Darling... feed it to me."

It was like being wrapped in a warm, fragrant ocean, nothing but softness and floral scent.

Lyra’s breathing grew faster, and the white-stockinged tender foot resting by Astrid’s leg tensed nervously.

After a long while, Lyra spoke in a tiny voice, broken and hesitant.

"H-How... Do I feed you...?"

To feed wine in such an intimate posture, she didn’t know how.

Feeling Lyra trembling, even the white stockings on her legs seeming to turn faintly pink with nervous sweat, like melting ice cream,

"Like this..."

Astrid’s free hand gently caught Lyra’s wrist, guiding her arm to loop around Astrid’s arm, winding back in a twined circle.

It forms a posture like cross-cupped wine.

"I read it in some books. They said long, long ago there was a saying, only especially intimate lovers would drink like this."

She breathed softly against Lyra’s earlobe, leaving it flushed pink before finally pulling away.

"So... I want to try it with Lyra too."

Turning her face, meeting her lover’s flawless beauty, Lyra, never particularly clever, heart already pounding, was instantly bewitched by Astrid’s words.

Especially intimate lovers... isn’t that talking about us...

The cool glass rim was right by her lips. On the transparent surface, it seemed there was still a faint trace of Astrid’s scent.

Lyra swallowed quietly, then pressed her knees together. Her calves formed an inverted V, the white-stockinged toes working hard to touch the floor.

"..."

Seeing Lyra drowned in sweetness and still not speaking, Astrid fluttered her lashes, then offered an even bolder method.

"Or... do you want to change to another way of drinking?"

"For example... pouring it here?"

The hand that had guided Lyra’s arm slid down along her smooth forearm to her shirt front. Without needing to go further, Lyra understood what Astrid meant.

T-That... absolutely not...

Her first thought was overwhelmed with waste. But immediately after, vivid, fragrant scenes started popping in her mind one after another.

The bright red wine will stain Astrid’s pale, tender skin, slide down the hollow, and finally soak into the black lace trim.

Faced with temptation from the Empire’s acknowledged number-one beauty, even an iron man probably couldn’t endure it.

"Or..." Astrid clearly had no intention of stopping, her voice continuing.

"...Here?"

Passing Lyra’s lower abdomen, her fingertips paused at the white thigh-high stockings on Lyra’s legs, pressing lightly so the skin dipped.

"..."

Her cheeks burned as if on fire. Lyra swallowed, voice thin as a mosquito.

"Let’s just... do it like this... now..."

If she really drank like that... just imagining it made her feel like she couldn’t.

It was all Astrid’s fault. She clearly wasn’t drunk, but her mind was already dizzy.

Getting Lyra’s answer, Astrid curved her lips, voice soft.

"Then, dear knight lady... please~"

Like a puppet on strings, Lyra sat in Astrid’s lap with her face flushed scarlet, eyes shimmering with water, and brought the cup to Astrid’s lips.

Astrid’s pale neck swallowed gently, rising and falling like a small wave. The same red wine, yet this sip seemed sweeter than before.