Chapter 388: Time
Listening to Monica’s words laced with admiration, Lyra politely nodded, raised her hand, and clinked her wine glass against Monica’s.
"Miss Monica flatters me."
Whether she was overthinking or not, Lyra couldn’t help but feel that Monica seemed truly delighted by her victory, this obvious anticipation even surpassing her support for Iris.
The sincerity in Monica’s praise, or the frequency with which she brought up the match, were effective evidence of this.
After all, this Saintess of Light was from the Kingdom of Velys, while Iris was the kingdom’s princess; they were compatriots, so Monica should logically have stood on Iris’s side.
The transparent wine glasses clinked in midair, disturbing the previously calm surface of the liquid inside. Monica took a sip of red wine, her delicate lips becoming even more rosy than before.
"I hope Miss Lyra, no, I should now call you Baroness Lyra, can continue shining as brilliantly as you did yesterday."
Faced with Monica’s string of compliments, Lyra merely sipped her wine slightly and softly replied, "...Then I’ll accept Miss Monica’s kind words in advance."
Now, she was nothing like the timid, inexperienced girl she once was, after learning from Astrid for so long, she at least knew how to handle social niceties.
The two women holding their glasses, exchanging idle chatter, seem aimless yet always circling back to the recent competition.
Astrid listened while swirling her wine glass, occasionally paying attention to the conversation, sometimes gently stroking Amalia’s hand to ease her anxiety, and other times scanning the surroundings.
At tonight’s banquet, Hibbort had only spoken two sentences at the beginning before retreating to his chambers, leaving behind the two imperial heirs and numerous imperial monuments.
Since everyone standing at the center of the hall was an exceptionally beautiful and graceful woman dressed in full formal attire, they naturally became the focus of attention from all directions.
Astrid was used to people’s gazes upon her. She relaxed, leaning casually against a marble pillar, her slender, black-stockinged legs crossed, crimson eyes lazily half-lidded as the sharp heel of her shoe lightly tapped the floor.
The night was still long. The wine could be savored slowly.
Her crimson eyes swept over Lucas, who was chatting and laughing with a noble girl, then shifted to Alistair nearby, wearing a smirk and a clearly fake smile.
As imperial heirs, not even realized when their homes were being raided, no wonder in the original story, Amalia, the girl imprisoned in the ancient castle, managed to slip through and take over.
At this moment, Astrid wondered how the fates of these two princes would end in this timeline where she had altered the plot. Would one still die and the other be injured, just like in the novel?
Hibbort was a decent emperor, but his two sons were truly unworthy successors.
Another quarter of an hour passed, and Lyra’s conversation with Monica was drawn to a close. After a final polite remark, Monica raised her glass again, clinking it with Lyra’s.
"Time slipped by without me noticing. It seems Baroness Lyra is also quite interesting outside the arena."
"Miss Monica is the same. Although our talk was brief, your insights on light magic have still greatly benefited me."
As her words ended, the glasses made a clear, ringing sound. Monica seemed to lose her grip, the bowl of the glass slipped from her fingertips and fell straight toward the floor.
Although it happened in an instant, Lyra’s lightning-fast reflexes and nearly instinctive physical habits prompted her to act, her other hand, not holding the wine glass, quickly shot forward and caught the stem of the falling glass.
The glass didn’t shatter on the floor as expected, but the wine still inevitably spilled outward.
Monica’s pristine evening gown was stained with red wine. Several splashes even landed on the edge of her white thigh-high stockings, soaking through the lace trim and making the already sheer fabric even more transparent.
Astrid’s eyes darkened slightly at the sight, but she outwardly expressed surprise.
"Miss Monica, your dress is soiled."
Could she really be this careless?
Being close by, Astrid had clearly seen the entire process of Monica and Lyra clinking glasses. Given the correct grip, the glass shouldn’t have slipped so easily.
Monica nodded upon hearing this, slightly lifting the hem of her dress with her hand, her expression feigning surprise.
Meanwhile, Lyra, who always first examined herself when problems arose, assumed she had applied too much force during the toast. Having just stabilized the glass, she immediately spoke.
"I’m sorry, Miss Monica."
"It was my fault, I accidentally knocked your glass."
Hearing Lyra say this, Monica looked at the wine glass still holding a third of red wine in Lyra’s hand, then shook her head gently.
"It has nothing to do with Baroness Lyra. I simply didn’t hold the glass firmly enough, causing the wine to spill."
"Besides, thanks to Baroness Lyra’s quick reflexes, even the glass was saved from breaking."
A nearby maid who noticed the incident quickly rushed forward to clean the wine stains on the floor. Seeing this, Monica gently lowered her hand and naturally spoke up.
"Unfortunately, the dress is ruined... I’ll have to change..."
"Your Highness Astrid, do you know of any convenient place nearby to change my evening gown?"
Going back to her quarters and returning would be tight on time, but either way, it was inconvenient.
Upon hearing Monica’s request, Astrid’s gaze lingered briefly on the woman’s soiled dress and the wine-stained sheer white stockings, then lifted her eyes to meet Monica’s orange-golden irises.
Monica was also looking at her, her gaze calm, as if she hadn’t been fazed at all by spilling the wine.
After all this indirect maneuvering, this was what she was waiting for.
Internally calculating the risks, Astrid did not immediately respond. Monica, in the meantime, took a silk handkerchief from a maid and began cleaning her dress.
After a few seconds of silence, Astrid placed her wine glass onto a tray nearby, turned her head slightly toward Elise, and exchanged a few brief, silent glances with the head maid before speaking.
"The closest place would be my private chambers."
"If Miss Monica doesn’t mind, you’re welcome to use my dressing room to change."
Monica paused slightly upon hearing this, then habitually crossed her hands over her chest in a prayer-like gesture.
"Of course I don’t mind. And..."
"...I’m deeply honored by Your Highness Astrid’s kindness."
Changing clothes in the imperial princess’s most private dressing room was a privilege not everyone could have.
Hearing this, Astrid’s lips curled slightly upward, continuing along Monica’s line of thought.
"Miss Monica is a guest from afar. I’m simply extending basic hospitality."
Since Monica had something she wanted to say in private, Astrid might as well listen carefully.
Turning around, she seriously glanced at Lyra, who was still unaware of the situation, and asked to take good care of Amalia. Then she ruffled the little black-haired girl’s head, signaling her to wait for her return.
"Let’s go, Miss Monica."
"I’ll take you to the changing room."
With that, Astrid strode forward with her long legs, walking toward the hall’s entrance amid countless gazes. Monica gave a slight nod and followed her out of the banquet.
At the same time, the head maid, having reduced her presence to the absolute minimum, quietly moved to Amalia’s side, becoming an invisible shield for the Fourth Princess during the banquet.
................
The light-element crystals arranged along both walls emitted a soft, white glow, illuminating the marble floor ahead of Astrid. Two slender shadows were stretched long by the light, their swaying hems accompanied the crisp, rhythmic tapping of high heels, playing an elegant symphony of light and shadow within the chambers.
Breathing in the rich but not overpowering incense, feeling the room’s temperature, adjusted just right by fire elements, Monica walked lightly, her full, sheer-stockinged legs swaying gracefully with each step. Her golden eyes thoughtfully observed the metal incense burners placed every ten meters.
"This fragrance... it’s unlike anything I’ve smelled in the Kingdom of Velys..."
"It has a distinct layered quality, as if more than one type of incense was used?"
Hearing Monica mentioned her most familiar area of expertise, Astrid softly explained:
"Cedarwood, with a touch of orange peel."
No wonder it feels so ethereal, as if carrying a hint of late autumn’s coolness. Impressed, Monica asked again,
"Does Your Highness Astrid instruct the maids to change the incense in your chambers with the seasons?"
To this, Astrid’s answer was concise:
"Yes."
As an imperial princess, Astrid naturally had some refined tastes shared by nobles. Fortunately, she also knew how to make her life more elegant and refined.
"It reminds me of the perfumes mentioned in the Empire Weekly. Are they also Your Highness Astrid’s creations?"
Turning a corner and approaching the bedroom, Astrid’s voice remains calm.
"Correct."
These were one of the products she co-developed and sold with the Bulstrode family, almost becoming a necessity in every noble household.
"Your Highness Astrid is truly unique, as if brimming with creativity everywhere." Monica said softly.
"Just as described earlier, you’re an extraordinary and captivating person."
Astrid did not respond immediately upon hearing this, stopping in front of her room.
"That’s going too far. I merely try to express the beauty of nature through whatever means I can think of."
She opened the door, stepped into the bedroom, locked it behind her, and continued speaking.
"Miss Monica, do you know much about the perfumes I’ve created?"
Monica nodded. "A little. Velmonts brought them from the East. I was fortunate enough to obtain a bottle."
Back then, relations between the Valeria Empire and the Kingdom of Velys were not yet so tense. Merchants frequently traveled between the two nations, nothing like the strict controls of today, though neither the Valeria Emperor nor the Velys King had enacted any official laws banning trade, commercial exchange had long been in name only.
Following Astrid into the dressing room, Monica saw the soft carpet on the floor and imitated the other’s actions, gently removing her high heels. Her two soft, delicate, white-stockinged feet stepped onto the plush rug.
"I truly enjoy the perfumes Your Highness Astrid blends." Monica said.
Astrid simply replied, "Then, while you’re here, I might as well give you a few more bottles before you leave."
Turning to look at the Saintess in her pure white dress, Astrid’s tone was completely flat.
"Also, let’s talk about why Miss Monica is so determined to be alone with me."
Is it because she’s returning home tomorrow, and if she doesn’t speak plainly now, she’ll miss her chance?
As Astrid finished speaking, a flicker of understanding passed through Monica’s eyes, and a faint smile appeared on her delicate face.
"Your Highness Astrid is very perceptive."
Communicating with such a clever person is indeed convenient, but one must remain cautious, lest one be completely outmaneuvered.
"I wouldn’t dare claim perceptiveness. After all, Miss Monica has already given plenty of hints."
From the moment Monica and Iris set foot on Valeria Empire soil, they had been under Hibbort’s surveillance, every move reported by spies. Even during her previous brief interactions with Astrid, Monica had only hinted slightly, never said much.
But now it is different. With Astrid’s active cooperation, she finally had a brief moment to breathe.
In Monica’s view, the maids serving in the Third Princess’s chambers must all be Astrid’s trusted confidants, so she didn’t need to overly worry about their conversation leaking. As for why she chose the dressing room, it was simple: no one would risk their life to spy on the princess’s private domain, especially not her most intimate changing space.
Spying on the imperial princess was the gravest of crimes. If caught, death would be a mercy, more likely, one would suffer cruel punishments, living worse than death.
"So, what does Miss Monica want to discuss?"
Astrid standing poised, her crimson eyes reflecting Monica’s face, her pink lips parting.
"Could it possibly be about how beautiful the moonlight is tonight?"
Earlier, walking down the corridor, the silver moonlight had shone on Astrid, making her silver hair shimmer brilliantly.
Tonight was a full moon.
Gazing at the woman before her, calm as if discussing something trivial, Monica pursed her lips and slowly spoke.
"Of course not."
Astrid’s attitude of complete indifference clearly emphasized the nature of this conversation. Monica had something to say, but the one who granted her this opportunity was Third Princess Astrid Calliste. Correspondingly, the latter could end the conversation at any time.
From the start, it was clear that Monica was the one seeking something, yet Astrid firmly held the initiative. Truly, the genius imperial princess who had changed the entire Valeria Empire, Astrid’s negotiation pressure was entirely different from Iris’s.
"Then, what does Miss Monica wish to do?"
Looking at Monica’s wine-stained stockings and dress, her smooth, tender, and shapely white-stockinged legs faintly visible beneath the skirt, Astrid’s words seemed both a reminder and a warning.
"Under normal circumstances, changing a wet evening gown takes about fifteen minutes. Even with some back-and-forth selection, it shouldn’t exceed half an hour."
"I believe, Miss Monica, your time is far from generous."