Chapter 650: No Waste
The Imperial Council Hall was divided into the main hall and the side chambers. The former was for the private council formed by rulers of the Valeria Empire for routine discussions, and was sometimes used for meetings or receiving foreign guests.
The latter was where the rulers privately issued orders through ministers. Unlike the spacious main hall, the side chambers were fitted with several independent rooms. Occasionally members of the royal family would meet nobles there to discuss state affairs, just like now, with Regent Astrid.
Under the warm orange light, the relatively roomy council chamber felt a bit cramped because the two of them were seated so close, and because a wooden square table sat between them.
Lyra’s blue eyes were lowered; what she could see was only the grand princess’ black ceremonial dress, layered like ornate lotus leaves, and those two smooth, slender legs wrapped in fine black stockings.
Perhaps because she had just said goodbye to Tristian Velmont and now found herself with the lover she was closest to, Astrid’s posture was far more relaxed than during the earlier negotiations.
Her soft, evenly shaped right leg rested on the left knee; the straight calf hovered midair.
The thin black stockings, slightly translucent, caught the light and shimmered with a delicate sheen, directly facing, they were the color of a deep night sky; changed at from an angle, the edged highlights make the leg lines look as if they’d been dyed a beautiful coffee brown by the orange glow.
Her high-heeled shoes, glittering like crushed diamonds, hung half off the toes, exposing a rounded heel as rich as dark chocolate and a silk-woven arch with a graceful curve. The fallen shoe reveals a narrow mouth with gilt stamping bearing a honeysuckle pattern; a silver metal strip crossed the instep and the toe, adding a touch of nobility to its elegance.
All should have been perfect. But due to a small accident, this portrait of the empire’s foremost beauty bore a discordant mark.
A patch of pure white frosting had just dripped onto Astrid’s right leg, pressing directly against the thin black stocking. A few crumbs of cake lay scattered, obscuring the weave of the fabric.
Lyra didn’t need to think hard, this had to be from half a minute ago when Astrid had suddenly attacked her and she, holding the tray up, had accidentally tilted a slice of cake so that a bit slumped off and stained Astrid’s dress.
"Astrid..."
She felt apologetic instinctively, but with a spoon in one hand and a saucer in the other, she couldn’t free a hand to clean it. Raising her eyes, she happened to meet Astrid’s smile that was half amused, half teasing.
The silver-haired, red-eyed beauty seemed entirely unconcerned. Her legs remain lazily crossed; she pressed the back of her hand to her cheek, crimson eyes flicking.
Wait... what was she feeling guilty about?
If Astrid hadn’t, without a word of warning, looped an arm around her waist and kissed her just then, how could this have happened?
In earnest, given her current abilities, no matter how clumsy, Lyra wouldn’t have made such a basic mistake!
Thinking that, she peered into Astrid’s smiling eyes and pouted, soft voice.
"Told you not to move around just now, look what happened..."
Although it was only a little and not much had been wasted, white frosting on black fabric made the clash of tones especially glaring on the dress.
Astrid’s red eyes narrowed slightly; she licked her lip with the tip of her tongue and, lazily, said, "I don’t regret it."
In that situation, if she hadn’t chosen to kiss, she would have been the one to let down the beauty.
Hearing Astrid say that, Lyra’s cheeks flushed deeper; the heels of her little black shoes came together as her white-silk-clad legs curled inward, and she accidentally hit the sofa.
Why couldn’t she ever sit still and stop teasing her?
Although... Lyra very much enjoyed it...
She turned her head slightly so her cool pink hair covered her flushed ears. The tickle of hair brushing the shell of her ear feels as soft as when the two of them cuddled to sleep each night.
"Astrid... is a smooth talker..."
Seeing Astrid’s frosting-smudged lips and remembering the kiss, Lyra belatedly realized she’d made a double entendre; her heart sped up a few beats.
Lyra, Lyra, Lyra.
How did you become like this?!
Putting down the tray and then the spoon, Lyra reached for the pristine Sword of Light at her side to fetch a handkerchief, when Astrid spoke.
"If you use a silk handkerchief, I don’t think it’ll come clean."
"..."
"...looks like it won’t."
Frosting was hard to wipe off dry; with sugar on top, without some water it probably wouldn’t come off.
Or just take them off and change into something else.
As Lyra considered how to clean Astrid, the other’s soft pink lips parted and gave her a brand-new suggestion.
"Or... Lyra..."
Astrid rested a finger at her lips, extending it to touch slightly.
"...Why not just eat it?"
By now she was a legendary mage; a micro windfield that keeps dust away was always active around her. Her everyday shirt, dress, and stockings rarely picked up dirt, the hygiene issue was almost nonexistent.
A chunk of cake was different from dust; it was heavy and substantial. Still, the windfields had prevented the frosting from sliding further down the slanted plate onto the skirt.
Lyra was momentarily stunned, then understood Astrid’s meaning. Her cherry lips parted as her gaze dropped back to that leg.
The black stocking, whose sheen reflected like polished jade, now bore white cream. Because the knee underneath was supporting it, the smooth flesh of the thigh was slightly spread, making the weave of the stocking more translucent at the sides.
If she abandoned ingrained notions and simply looked, the warm light made it feel like someone had smeared pure cream atop a slice of Black Forest cake.
"..."
No, what was she thinking?
That kind of thing wasn’t right. At least not in daylight.
She straightened instinctively, breath catching for a moment. Her cheeks burned like apples, steam seemed to rise from her embarrassment.
"What’s wrong, Lyra?" Astrid delivered the finishing blow at the right moment.
"I thought you liked it."
With those words, Lyra’s shame peaked; she couldn’t bring herself to meet the silver-haired girl’s eyes.
What kind of wolfish line was that... could one say that in broad daylight...
Her blue eyes are low; she didn’t dare look at the smeared cake. Her vision held only the black stockinged foot hooked by its slender heel, like a smooth ebony moon.
Her heartbeat quickened further. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a hint of disappointment in Astrid’s pretty red irises, like, perhaps... slight feelings.
"..."
"No, I don’t."
Lyra answered stubbornly. She wasn’t very clever, but she knew Astrid wouldn’t really brood over something like this.
After a moment of faking indignation, internally criticizing Astrid’s acting as completely out of character, Lyra avoids looking down again. Her hands, still holding the tray, rested by her skirt and began rubbing the fabric to soothe her embarrassment.
"Really?" Astrid asked again, a faint note of confusion in her voice.
"..."
It was fake.
In fact, Lyra underestimated her own feelings. Although she knew Astrid was only acting, when her lover used that fragile, watery look full of slight hurt, she couldn’t quite control her emotions.
It wasn’t, because originally she had...
Fingering at her skirt, Lyra curled her fingers, hiding her burning earlobes under the pink hair. She lifted her head and shot Astrid a fierce glance.
From Astrid’s perspective, though, the flushed cheeks and tearful eyes make Lyra look nothing like fierce, more like a spoiled pink-haired puppy being bullied into cuteness.
Was she... adorable but pretending to be fierce?
If Lyra knew what Astrid was thinking, she might truly make a fuss.
Luckily, they were not in a state of mental resonance.
A moment later, Lyra bent her arm to steady herself on the sofa and leaned toward the cream on Astrid’s leg.
The warmth spread; Whether by intention or not, Astrid shifted her legs slightly and a muffled sound escaped her lips.
"..."
There weren’t many cake crumbs left. Compared to a silk handkerchief, this method was more flexible. As for the final result, the two of them understood the likely outcome.
Blushing, Lyra licked away the last bit of cream, feeling the texture of the stocking against her lips and tongue. Thinking of Astrid’s earlier smile, her pink lips parted again to reveal a sharp little fang.
Astrid bit her gently, just a little sting, more ticklish than painful. Understanding it was Lyra’s small extortion for her teasing words, Astrid indulged her, speaking softly.
"How’s the taste?"
...It seemed she hadn’t bitten hard enough.
Lyra, leaning down so Astrid couldn’t see her expression, smacked another bite with more force, but still within a range Astrid could accept.
Regent Astrid was truly too wicked.
Fortunately, neither liked to waste food. By the end of more than an hour, that small plate of cakes was, with difficulty, entirely eaten.
After dessert, Astrid rested her head on Lyra’s lap for a while. They chatted idly between one another until luncheon began.
...................
In the two days following the exhibition, the capital returned to its peaceful routine. Nobles who had come from miles away to attend the magitech showcase left in convoys, one after another.
Their purpose wasn’t only to learn the progress of magitech research. Far more important was to test the new Empress’ stance. Once they were certain Amalia was not a rash ruler who would trample noble interests, they relaxed.
At least for now, magical device development still revolves around the old nobility; precious magical research materials remain in their hands.
Unlike the scheming nobles, students who participated in the magitech exhibition on the second and third days at Isabeth Magic Academy were generally more enthusiastic.
"What an amazing device... You don’t need mental energy; just these pistons and buttons can reproduce a set effect..."
"Did you hear? The new Empress plans to install a number of magical devices at Isabeth. What we’re seeing now will be put in classrooms and training towers by the first half of next year."
"When that happens, summers won’t be suffocating and winters won’t be bitterly cold. Indoors will be like spring all year, this is what a top-tier academy should have."
Amid the bustling crowd, students, some in noble robes, some in academy uniforms, walked across the tiled exhibition hall in loafers.
They gathered in threes and fours, full of youthful vigor, their conversations continuous.
"Too bad I’m already a fourth-year student. I’ll graduate next year and miss it. Why are the good things always for the next class?"
As soon as the speaker finished, a friend interrupted.
"If you’re so regretful, aren’t next year’s students lucky too?"
"What’s to regret about them?"
"Our honorable regent, Astrid, graduated just like us."
In recent years, Isabeth had produced many legends: a foreign princess defeated in a magic exchange tournament, the youngest genius knight Lyra, Empress Amalia in a white dress who resisted the Velys invasion, and Deputy Dean Charlotte who’d kept researching magic and now achieved a major breakthrough.
All of these people were connected by one name: Astrid Calliste.
The empire’s most beautiful woman; brilliant talent and feats, the regent, heir of magitech, blessed by miracles.
No amount of praise could fully describe her presence.
"The newcomers are only nominal alumni. They can’t compare to those of us who once sat in the same schools and trained in the same towers as Regent Astrid."
Missing just one year and losing the chance to see the empire’s brightest jewel in the flesh, that was a real loss.
Those listening thought for a few seconds and then nodded in agreement. "That’s true."
More noisy debate followed as more people gathered to peer into the cabinets housing magical devices.
"Can you see it? Do you get it? I heard you also took magitech as an elective?"
"The principle isn’t that complicated, but building the specific arrays and carving the sigils is a pain..."
"Professor Charlotte’s work is impressive. If it were me, at least ninety percent of a crystal’s energy would be lost in transmission."
Hearing his friend in academy uniform speak like she actually understood, the noble youth nodded thoughtfully and then asked, "So you really plan to go on for royal study later?"
The man nodded in confirmation, answering in a warm voice.
"Of course."
"My talent’s limited. Rather than becoming an ordinary mage, I’d specialize in magitech. The emperor’s interested in recruiting, he’s offering a hefty sum."
"That’s better than being sent off to some border outpost as a guard."