Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 142 - 50% Chance

The atmosphere in the depths of the castle was starkly different from the light and harmonious mood in the dining hall. Amalia sat at her desk, her hand gripping a fork so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Today’s lunch had her favorite apple pudding, and the steak was cooked to perfection, tender, juicy, and without even a hint of blood.

However, it was clear that Amalia was in no mood to savor the meal.

Her head was bowed, her eyelashes fluttering slightly, and her toes curled inward in her strappy sandals. Her delicate hands, resting in the sunlight, showed faint blue veins.

The golden-haired girl stared at the knife in her hand, the metal blade reflecting her exquisitely beautiful profile.

Amalia frowned, her eyes fixed on the plate where the steak’s reddish juices mingled with the dark brown sauce.

If yesterday at this time she had been experiencing the happiest moment of her life, today her spirits had plummeted to the depths.

No matter what she did, she couldn’t muster any energy, and her focus was completely scattered.

The silver hair she had found was identical to the strand she had picked up in bed before.

Amalia didn’t believe her eyes could be deceiving her, but how could hair that had been golden just yesterday turn silver overnight? No matter how she thought about it, there was no reasonable explanation that didn’t involve magic.

So the question arose: Why was Livia hiding her true hair color? Was she afraid that Amalia would discover she had the same silver hair as Astrid?

If Livia didn’t have the signature golden hair of the Valeria Empire’s royal family, and if this was all a disguise, then Livia’s identity was questionable. Perhaps even the name "Livia Valeria" was fake, fabricated to deceive her.

It was highly likely that Livia was actually Astrid Calliste.

Her thoughts were a tangled mess. Amalia hadn’t eaten since morning, and she had only taken a single bite of her lunch. Now, she could feel a faint discomfort in her stomach.

The knife clinked against the plate as Amalia mechanically cut the steak, her expression cold and detached, as if an icy aura had solidified around her.

Auri, sitting in her cat bed, sensed her owner’s mood change. Unlike usual, she didn’t approach her or lick the plate to show she was hungry. Instead, she quietly tucked her paws under herself, occasionally blinking her eyes.

The atmosphere remained heavy, with only the sound of cutlery against the plate echoing in the room. By the time Amalia snapped out of her thoughts, the steak on her plate had been cut into six or seven small pieces.

Livia had once said that even if she had no appetite, she should still eat something. If eating didn’t bring her joy, she should treat it as a necessary condition for survival.

Livia...

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A heavy weight pressed on her chest, and every beat of her heart felt like it was tugging at her veins. Amalia felt a wave of nausea rise in her stomach, an indescribable urge to vomit surging to her brain.

The next second, Amalia covered her mouth, her cheeks slightly raised as she struggled to suppress the churning in her stomach and esophagus.

After what felt like an eternity, the golden-haired girl let go of her mouth. The back of her white nightgown was damp with sweat, becoming slightly transparent and revealing her delicate shoulder blades.

She hadn’t met many people in her life, and perhaps there were others in the world who had the same silver hair as Princess Astrid.

Livia wasn’t Astrid, but even so, that didn’t explain why Livia had the Valeria surname but lacked the royal family’s signature golden hair.

Was her bloodline too diluted, or was there some other reason? Based on the few things Livia had mentioned before, she was undoubtedly someone close to the empire’s core power circle, so her bloodline shouldn’t be that weak.

The more Amalia thought about it, the more suspicious Livia seemed. Even if she didn’t want to think the worst, she had to face the fact that Livia had deceived her in some way.

Whether it was because her bloodline was too diluted or because she didn’t want to reveal her silver hair for fear of hurting Amalia, all these possibilities were just excuses she was making to justify the actions of the kind sister she had come to love.

The likelihood that Livia was Astrid was over fifty percent. Amalia didn’t want to believe the truth that was staring her in the face, so she kept coming up with reasons to explain it away.

She forced herself to eat a few pieces of meat, though the soup on the plate had long gone cold. After finishing it in small sips, she took out some dried fish from a bag for Auri, watching as the orange cat lowered its head and happily ate from the plate.

These dried fish had been brought by Livia.

Amalia turned and saw Auri’s cat bed, a finely crafted wooden box. Her gaze shifted, landing on the desk.

The paints that filled the canvas, the brushes that outlined the lines, the easel that held the canvas, and the stack of beautifully bound books.

Unconsciously, her room had been filled with countless traces of Livia.

She slowly sat on the edge of the bed, her head lowered and her hands gripping the sheets, letting her golden hair fall over her face, hiding her blue eyes.

Amalia stared at the floor tiles, remembering the first time she had seen Livia standing at the end of the corridor, bathed in moonlight, pure and flawless.

Her fingers twisted into the mattress as she took a deep breath, the image in her mind shifting.

She thought of that night, when the steam from the broth had risen in a hazy mist, and Livia had smiled, her entire being bathed in light.

If only... she hadn’t noticed...

If she hadn’t noticed anything unusual about that strand of hair, Livia would still be Livia, her closest and most important sister.

After what felt like an eternity, Amalia stood up and returned to her desk, opening the magazine sample that Livia had specifically brought for her.

In the magazine, the painting Amalia had created under the pen name "Livia" was on the fifth page, just two pages away from Astrid’s fashion spread.

The golden-haired girl stared at the image of the silver-haired princess in a white shirt and black pleated skirt, her gaze growing darker.

....

That night, Astrid arrived at the castle as usual, carrying two books and a small bag.

Today, Amalia wasn’t waiting at the castle entrance. Astrid felt a flicker of surprise but quickly made her way up the stairs to Amalia’s floor. As she turned the corner, she heard the sound of running water.

No wonder she hadn’t come down to wait, she was taking a bath.

The doubt in her heart quickly dissipated. Livia placed the items she had prepared back in the room and lit the oil lamp. Just then, the door in the hallway opened.

Amalia stepped out of the bathroom, her golden hair damp and hanging at her waist.

The silk hem of her dress reached just above her knees, revealing her smooth, jade-like legs. Her already delicate skin, now glistening with water droplets, looked even softer and more tender, as if it could be bruised with a touch.

Seeing the light on in the room next to her bedroom, Amalia’s eyes filled with a complex emotion. She stood still for a moment, drying her hair, before finally turning and walking toward Livia’s room.

"Sister."Amalia called out softly as she looked at Livia sitting at the desk. She then stepped forward and reached out her hand.

Livia was about to respond when she suddenly felt a warm, soft body in her arms. Amalia sat on her lap, her arms wrapping around Livia’s chest, holding her tightly.

The scent of soap and a faint milky fragrance wafted from Amalia, who had just taken a bath. Livia gently stroked Amalia’s back, her voice soft.

"Good evening, Amalia~"

Amalia’s eyes darkened slightly, though Livia didn’t notice due to their position. After a few seconds, she leaned against Livia’s neck and whispered in response.

"Good evening to you too."

Perhaps because Amalia hid it well, Livia didn’t notice anything unusual about the girl. She chanted a spell to dry Amalia’s hair and then released her hand from the girl’s waist.

"Do you have anything else to do tonight, sister?" Amalia asked.

Livia nodded. "Yes, I need to write new content for the magazine."

The enthusiastic reception of the first issue had been within Astrid’s expectations, but her goals went far beyond that. For a magazine published every two weeks, long-term success was the true measure of achievement.

Maintaining long-term success was a complex task. In her previous life, Astrid had only dabbled in the perfume industry, so she had some understanding but lacked practical experience.

Currently, the most challenging aspect was that, aside from the jewelry appreciation and current events sections, she was writing most of the content herself. This had both advantages and disadvantages.

The advantage was that she didn’t need to worry much about quality control, as she meticulously revised every piece she wrote.

The disadvantage was that it could lead to a fixed style, making it harder to attract new readers.

However, this disadvantage wasn’t immediately apparent, or perhaps it wasn’t entirely bad.

At least in the early stages of the magazine, a consistent style helped cultivate a loyal readership. New readers could be attracted through future expansions of the magazine’s sections.

The most inconvenient aspect was that it took up a lot of Astrid’s time. She was already busy studying magic, keeping an eye on both the prince and the political situation, and taking care of Amalia.

She hadn’t been paying much attention to Lyra’s studies lately, and with the magazine being published every two weeks, it was easy to feel overwhelmed.

Once the magazine was on track and its reputation grew, she would need to consider hiring professional writers and securing a stable source of content.

"Then... should I draw another painting?"

Amalia left Livia’s embrace and sat on a nearby chair, speaking in a soft voice.

Livia hesitated for a moment before replying.