Chapter 659: Truly Touching
At the mention of changing one’s appearance, Amalia narrowed her blue eyes slightly, staring at the silver hair that fell across her own cheek as if reminding what had happened back at the old castle.
A transformation potion was only a mid-level Sorcerer brew. It forms an arcane-factor illusion field around the drinker so that, while the user’s true form remains unchanged, outsiders’ perceptions of their appearance, bearing, and even the feel of their skin will be displaced, and correspondingly beautified.
If no mental probing was used, the potion’s effect couldn’t be seen through during its duration. But because it was low-grade to begin with, it was easy to expose when used for infiltration; most nobles used it merely as an occasional playful indulgence to satisfy sensory pleasures, which sounded unfair to one’s partner, but the upper classes of the Valeria Empire didn’t care much about their bedmates’ feelings.
Lucas wasn’t the only one like that.
"I commissioned Professor Claire to make a batch of illusion drafts for me," Astrid said. "They’re a bit higher-grade. Once swallowed, unless someone has the mental strength of a peak tier Magnus, there’s no way to probe the drinker’s true face."
The effect was similar to the transformation potion, but higher grade and harder to detect. After all, the threshold for high-level arcane masters filtered out 99.9 percent of mages; if an Arcanist mage appeared, disguise or no disguise didn’t matter to Astrid, their mental-detection fields were powerful enough to miss nothing, not even a blade of grass.
Amalia blinked and let her gaze drop naturally to the luxurious skirt lifted by the chair’s arm where her sister sat. The black-sheathed legs beneath it caught the warm light, the raised foot in black silk curling slightly like a piece of dark jade.
"Have you tested it yet?" Amalia asked.
Astrid shook her head, soft pink lips parting.
"Not yet. I’ve got it, but there were too many things to handle before leaving, so I haven’t had the time."
In the imperial capital many noble and royal long-term deals were actually hooked up through Astrid. Once she leaves the capital, the rest will rely on Amalia. Astrid tidying things in advance was partly to reduce Amalia’s future workload.
Amalia was quiet for a few seconds, then placed a hand on Astrid’s waist and said in a low voice, "Then, shall we try it now?"
There was probably something else in her mind; the words slipped out naturally.
Only after the sentence fell did both of them realize the implications this potion might hold.
"..."
A moment later Astrid’s lips curved and her tone softened. "Alright. Let’s try."
She needed a control test herself, to find someone she was closest to and see how she appeared in their eyes before testing others.
Black silk gloves gleamed faintly. A slim crystal vial appears in Astrid’s palm; the liquid inside was a dark, translucent blue. She raised it and gently handed it to Amalia, who paused for a heartbeat before taking it.
When Amalia pulled the cork, a faint bitterness spread across the space between them. Before she actually drank it, Astrid remembered the time in the castle garden drinking a transformation potion: the nausea that had made her sick. Even after so long, alchemical tastes hadn’t changed; the brew still makes one queasy.
Professor Claire had said this single dose lasted a full day, so Amalia wouldn’t have to drink it too often to affect her appetite.
Watching Astrid’s slightly parted lips, Amalia brought the uncorked bottle to them and, with a gentle motion, fed the potion to her lover.
When the last drop of blue disappeared into the crystal, the glass turned to points of light and dissolved in Amalia’s palm. Heart beating a little faster, she looked down at the silver-haired beauty in her arms.
Seconds ticked away like the study’s clock hands creaked on, like the instrument that had once tugged at a girl’s heartstrings.
Half a minute passed. The imperial jewel before her showed no change: still the fitted, sumptuous court gown, silver hair, red eyes, scent faint as orchids.
Amalia watched quietly. Her hand slipped along Astrid’s waist, then wrapped around her back; her lips tightened slightly.
There was no sign of golden hair, no bloodline blue eyes that belonged to her, no pure white silk gloves from their first meeting, no graceful princess gown, no lace-trimmed stockings, no silver low heels revealing fair insteps.
Astrid was Astrid, unchanged in Amalia’s eyes.
"..."
Livia Valeria... She probably will never see Livia again in this life...
Her fingers clenched unnoticed. The surge of reluctance in her chest made Amalia feel suffocated; the calm that had been within her was stirred into turmoil.
That person, like moonlight that once illuminated the lonely years in the old castle, had disappeared completely.
Regret, sorrow, and joy interwove into a complicated knot. Amalia held Astrid in silence, her white silk-clad legs tightening, pressing into the Regent’s knees without a seam of space between them.
"How is it, Amalia?" Astrid asked.
Amalia shook her head, voice low. "...I don’t know."
She couldn’t find any change, but mental probing showed the arcane factors arranged neatly, not chaotic like other places, an external sign the potion was functioning normally.
Eyes closed, Amalia fixed the memory of the golden-haired silhouette deep in her mind. After a while she opened her eyes and leaned forward, lips slowly pressed to that flawless, pale face.
"Sister is sister. I can’t find any difference," she murmured, voice trembling slightly before it disappeared into the motion. Astrid inhaled cool, pleasant perfume; she saw Amalia close enough that only a few centimeters separated them, then she kissed her.
After being near the person she cherished, Amalia felt her heartbeat return to normal. She lightly touched Astrid’s lips with her tongue and murmured a quiet complaint, "This potion tastes awful..."
She’d tasted only a trace when their lips grazed; Astrid had swallowed the whole vial without a sound.
Astrid stroked her hair and spoke gently. "We should have delayed kissing, since I just drank it... Or not be so intense..."
Both of her lovers hated doing things by halves. Whether the assertive Amalia or the stamina-rich Lyra, whenever they kissed Astrid they dragged things out into something more passionate.
Amalia kept gazing at Astrid and said between kisses, "Don’t stop... I want to feel more of sister..."
"And it’s not all bitter," she added.
The residue of an illusion potion was hard to swallow, but with the bitterness as contrast, the part that belonged to her sister tasted all the sweeter.
Perhaps because some presence was truly gone now, Amalia wanted more. Having said a few words, she kissed her again.
Livia was gone, but her sister’s love for her had never faded.
Before leaving the capital, she wanted to spend a little more time with her, indulge in being the bad little sister who wanted to see Astrid lose composure under her. A petty selfishness.
She felt a faint brush beneath the skirt, as if feathers rubbed through the stockings, tickling the skin, and Astrid, eyes narrowed mid-kiss, let Amalia’s snowy legs graze her knees. Her palm explored places no one else should touch, making the formerly night-sky-colored softness warp, even seeing slightly between her fingers.
Has the illusion taken effect? In Amalia’ perspective it seemed not, but from a wider view maybe it had.
Only love filled the air: warm rising with their bodies in a way that matches the potion’s most common use among the imperial nobility.
For the next few hours, the Empress’ private study was not used for work. As if to welcome the coming winter, hints of spring crept across the polished desk.
Two days later Astrid and Lyra left for the outskirts of Capital City to board a mana-ship bound for Liya Tower Fortress. The Empress herself had come to the airport to see the Regent off.
"Sister, please make your safety your first priority," Amalia said softly in front of many nobles. "This is an order."
She didn’t care about anything else; she only wanted Astrid healthy and to return safely.
Astrid stood on the steps, took Amalia’s thin, silk-wrapped hand, and pressed a kiss to it. "As you command, Your Majesty."
After she spoke, Amalia went beyond normal imperial etiquette and rose on her toes, aided by heels, to kiss Astrid’s forehead.
"Come back soon, sister."
"I’ll be waiting."
Amalia cast a look at Lyra standing nearby in plain clothes, a metal-sheathed sword at her hip. A trace of envy flickered across her eyes before she said, complicatedly, "The safety of the Regent, then, I leave to Countess Lyra."
How she wished she could be like Lyra, able to follow Astrid anywhere without worrying about a throne.
"Please protect her well." Lyra nodded gravely at Amalia’s words, one hand resting on the cool sword sheath as she promised, "I will with my life guard the Regent."
.....................
High above the ground, Astrid and Lyra sit in a private cabin. Elemental fire crystals placed around them kept a steady warmth, bringing color back to two faces chilled earlier by wind.
"Astrid, are you sure you want to go into the Kingdom of Velys yourself? For stabilizing the troops you could stay at Liya Tower Fortress..."
Like Amalia, Lyra worried about Astrid’s safety, but her priority was whether Astrid, her loved one, should be sent into an enemy realm.
Lyra would rather Astrid remain at Liya Tower, even if it meant enduring a long separation like Amalia’s; keeping her partner safe was worth it. The thought of sending Astrid into danger felt excessive.
Astrid explained the second half of what she and Amalia had discussed: how to use ancient spells against Brennild and the necessity of her presence when coordinating with the Saintess of Light.
Hearing this, Lyra quickly understood another reason Astrid insisted on going: she wanted to fight and retreat together so Lyra wouldn’t be disadvantaged by not knowing ancient rites. Lyra felt a small warmth in her chest, but her worry did not vanish.
"Then... Astrid, you’re not allowed to run off..."
"Run off?"
"Yeah, go anywhere without me."
Velys was more dangerous than the imperial capital; Lyra had to watch Astrid at all times to feel safe.
"I promised Amalia that I’d keep you safe," Lyra said, her cheeks reddening despite the seriousness in her voice. "Astrid is already frail. If you were hurt... I wouldn’t want that to happen to you either."
The latter part was said with less shyness than usual. Even blushing, Lyra was earnest.
Astrid nodded and reassured her several times that she wouldn’t leave Lyra’s sight. Only then was Lyra approved.
Comforting her was a little troublesome, but being so dearly cared for by an adorable girlfriend felt pretty good.
The mana-ship sped on; elemental crystals dampened turbulence so the ride wasn’t bumpy. It was still a long journey, a few days even by airship. Astrid sipped tea with Lyra and told her of her, somewhat sinful, business plan.
"So... besides punishing war criminals, you also plan to dump mana devices on the market?"
"Yes. It’s a godsend; I can’t miss it."
Lyra pursed her lips and pressed her legs together under the table, the two black little shoes touching. "...Is that so?"
She’d thought Astrid simply wanted to handle the bad nobles.
"Does this make you unhappy, Lyra?"
"Not really... Though, tell me, does Astrid see me as that old-fashioned?"
Lyra had long since learned to judge people by what they did rather than what they intended, so Astrid’s actions didn’t disappoint her.
What mattered was that the person she cared about was moving in the right direction, just as she was.
"Mm... a little, maybe," Astrid replied quietly.
"Even your feelings for me were kept hidden."