Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 184: Massage?

The sun had set, and the imperial capital was bathed in a faint silver glow under the moonlight.

Although the Capital was known as the empire’s city that never sleeps, not every corner was illuminated as brightly as day.

After sunset, the number of vendors in the eastern district noticeably decreased, with only a few night stalls still open.

The scattered vendors used lamps filled with animal oil or pine resin for lighting. While these couldn’t compare to the brightness of light-attribute crystal stones, they were just enough to light up the small area around them.

In addition, there were kerosene lamps placed every few dozen meters along the streets. The public lighting facilities and the vendors’ lamps complemented each other, creating tiny, firefly-like lights.

Astrid held Amalia’s hand, accompanying her on an aimless stroll. The warm, orange light from the roadside taverns spilled out, mingling with the aroma of alcohol and the clamor of conversation, blending into the evening breeze. With every step, they could feel the heavy, bustling atmosphere of the city.

With fewer people around, there were fewer potential spies. Amalia finally dared to lift her head slightly and take a bolder look at her surroundings.

After confirming with Elise that no one was tailing them, Astrid parted her pink lips, her voice so low that only Amalia and the two maids beside her could hear.

"The eastern district is where the commoners of the imperial capital live. It’s also an area with poor sanitation and security. It’s best not to linger here after dark."

Of course, this could be ignored if you had a strong knight like the head maid as a bodyguard.

The rhythmic and pleasant sound of boot heels echoed on the cobblestone road. Astrid walked at a steady pace, her black lace-trimmed dress swaying gently with each step. As she walked, she whispered to Amalia.

"Earlier, we visited the commoners’ market. The busiest times here are divided into two periods: the morning market from 6:30 to 9:00, and the evening market from 6:00 to 8:00. In summer, the morning market is shorter, and the evening market is longer, while in winter, it’s the opposite."

"When His Majesty the Emperor first took office, he introduced a grain bill that imposed taxes on various grains based on factors like regional climate. For example, the soil near the imperial capital is suitable for growing coarse wheat, which is used to brew ale, so the cultivation of coarse wheat is thriving in this area. In contrast, the eastern regions produce more fine wheat, which can be used as raw material for white bread and transported back to Capital, where we are now."

"That’s why you saw more coarse wheat products in the market. It’s really all they have to offer."

Listening to the tapping footsteps beside her and the cool yet gentle voice, Amalia quietly listened, her gaze occasionally falling on the street corners or on Astrid’s face.

After a while, Amalia suddenly spoke.

"Is the white bread we ate this morning all transported from the east?"

"Most of it, yes."

"What about the beef on the table?"

"It’s mainly produced in the pastoral areas of Duke Charles’s territory. The climate there is cold, and animal husbandry is quite developed. It’s the primary source of beef and lamb for the empire."

Unknowingly, they had left the eastern district and crossed the wide, long main road that led from the city gate to the central square.

Unlike the commoners’ district, the area where the nobles lived was noticeably cleaner.

The street lamps were placed closer together, and they used the more expensive light-attribute crystals for illumination.

Amalia turned her head. Everything in the eastern district seemed dull under these beams of light.

Even the once firefly-like lamps were now so dim they were almost invisible.

Only a few second-floor windows with their warm, orange light stood out among the rows of low, small houses.

"What’s wrong, Livia?" Astrid asked her.

"Nothing."

Amalia withdrew her gaze and stepped into the brightly lit noble district.

She had once lived in the eastern district too, in a cramped little tavern that barely provided shelter, with a woman who only wanted to use her to gain wealth.

Back then, Amalia struggled even to eat, let alone read, paint, or wear the beautiful dresses she wore now.

Bloodline was a shortcut to success. Even though Amalia despised her mother’s methods, she had to admit that she was now enjoying the material benefits brought by her royal bloodline.

Although the magical devices in the ancient castle were quite outdated, they at least spared her the trouble of fetching and heating water.

Meanwhile, the people at the bottom of society had to gather firewood just to have a cup of hot tea. Compared to them, her lack of want for food and clothing was already a blessing many could only dream of.

But still...

As she looked at the reflections of light on the glass and the lively palace parties, Amalia pursed her lips, thinking of the black bread she had nibbled on earlier, mixed with water.

Was the nobility’s high status... solely due to their bloodline?

After another twenty minutes, Astrid took Amalia on a brief tour, and just before the gates were about to close, the two sisters returned to the palace.

Tomorrow, Charlotte would return to the imperial capital. Astrid had already instructed the kitchen to prepare the ingredients she needed. She planned to cook herself, to properly welcome her sister back.

Pushing open the door to her bedroom, Astrid took off her leather boots and sat at her desk, quietly waiting for Lyra to bring her a change of nightgown.

Astrid rarely walked much, let alone for over two hours at a time. Her constitution was naturally weak, and wearing high-heeled boots had left her quite tired.

Sitting in her chair to rest, Astrid bent her legs, wrapping her arms around her knees, her black-stockinged feet gently resting on the cushion.

Compared to those shoes that required tiptoeing, the soft cushion beneath her feet felt much more comfortable.

After a quarter of an hour, there was a knock at the door. Astrid called for the person to enter. It was Lyra, holding a neatly folded nightgown.

"Princess Astrid, your clothes are ready."

"Mm, just put them there." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

After placing the silk gown on a nearby chair, Lyra didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she stood beside Astrid for a few seconds before asking, "Princess Astrid, are you tired from walking?"

Having served Astrid for so long, Lyra naturally knew that the silver-haired princess’s stamina was never great. Even among the delicate mages, she was probably at the bottom of the list.

"Yes, a little tired," Astrid replied coldly.

Seeing the snow-white hands resting on the back of her feet, Lyra hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with her skirt. Then, as if possessed, she blurted out, "Would you like me to massage your feet?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Lyra realized what she had said. Her ears turned red, and her cheeks flushed.

Astrid hadn’t quite caught it at first, but after noticing where Lyra’s gaze was fixed, she quickly understood.

The atmosphere became slightly awkward. After a few seconds, Astrid softly said, "Then help me massage them."

With that, the girl stretched out her legs, her black-stockinged feet, smooth as jade, resting on the expensive carpet. The fine hairs on the carpet brushed against the tops of her feet, making the skin beneath the stockings appear even more delicate.

Lyra’s mind was in turmoil, unsure whether to place her hands at her sides or behind her back.

After a moment of hesitation, the pink-haired maid tremblingly reached out and gently grasped Astrid’s left foot. The moment she touched it, Astrid’s body also trembled slightly, her leg almost reflexively pulling back.

After half a minute, feeling a faint pressure on the sole of her foot, Astrid leaned back in her chair, exhaling slightly as the muscles in her back gradually relaxed.

On the other hand, Lyra swallowed imperceptibly, her movements becoming even more cautious.

For some reason, perhaps out of habit, Astrid didn’t ask her to remove the stockings. Instead, she let Lyra massage her through the thin layer of silk.

Usually, Lyra only massaged Astrid’s shoulders. This sudden shift to massaging her feet left her feeling quite flustered.

Especially since she had heard that a girl’s feet were an important part of her body and shouldn’t be touched casually. She had blurted it out without thinking, but she hadn’t expected Astrid to actually agree.

Her thumb gently circled the sole of Astrid’s foot, occasionally applying a bit more pressure. As she felt the softness and warmth of the princess’s foot, Lyra lowered her gaze, not daring to look at Astrid.

Since Astrid was sitting in a chair, Lyra had to sit on the carpet in a spread-eagle position to help her, which naturally brought them closer together.

With her silver hair and red eyes, her elegant demeanor, Astrid had somehow become the perfect image of a princess in Lyra’s heart.

When Lyra accidentally touched a sensitive spot, Astrid let out a soft moan, her crimson eyes unusually hazy.

"Princess Astrid... did I hurt you...?"

Astrid looked down at Lyra, who was kneeling before her with her head bowed, and replied coldly, "No."

It was just an instinctive reaction to being touched in a place no one had ever touched before.

Lyra still didn’t dare to look up, her gaze fixed on the black-stockinged foot in her hands, her cheeks burning even hotter.

"Then... should I continue...?"

"Continue."

"..."

Lyra wasn’t sure in what state she finished massaging Princess Astrid’s feet. When Astrid finally said it was enough, Lyra hurriedly stood up, almost stumbling into the princess’s arms.

"I, uh, I’ll go now."

"I’ll pour you some tea, Princess Astrid. You can drink it after your bath."

Watching the flustered pink-haired maid put on her small leather shoes, her fingers slightly hooking the back of the heels, Astrid blinked a few times and replied indifferently, "Mm."

As she stepped out, Lyra bumped into Amalia in the hallway. Seeing the blush on Lyra’s face, a strange glint passed through Amalia’s eyes.

"Lyra, what is Princess Astrid doing?" Amalia asked.

Lyra, still recovering from what had just happened, paused for a second before answering, "She’s taking a bath."

Her fingers still seemed to retain the warmth and the smooth, silky touch of Astrid’s skin. After answering, Lyra waited for a moment, making sure there was nothing else, then bowed and left, leaving Amalia in the hallway, deep in thought.