Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 118: "Do you like domineering people, sister?"

Time rewound to noon. Amalia heard the dull chime of the wall clock, opened her eyes, and sat up.

She leisurely tidied her hair, then slipped on her slippers and got out of bed.

Like Livia, Amalia used the morning hours to catch up on sleep. For her, the day truly began after lunch.

She walked to the bathroom, took out a few clean grass stalks, and chewed them gently. As she looked at her sleepy reflection in the mirror, she placed a towel under the faucet, waiting for the cold water to soak her palm and awaken her senses.

It was almost afternoon, and there were still over ten hours before she could see Livia again.

After washing up, Amalia went downstairs, brought her slightly warm lunch back to her room, and shared it with Auri.

Unlike the Kingdom of Velys in the northern part of the continent, where lunch was considered the main meal, the Valeria Empire placed more emphasis on dinner.

Consequently, their lunch was simpler, with far fewer dishes prepared than in the evening.

However, this simplicity was relative to common households. Even an ordinary lunch for the royal family was exceptionally lavish.

Sausages, fried fish, mushrooms, potato pancakes, and tomato pea soup, meat and vegetables paired together, balanced and nutritious.

Looking at the oily fried fish, Amalia frowned slightly and used her fork to move the fish to the iron plate beside her leg.

Auri, catching the scent, waddled over on her short legs and began licking the fish, occasionally meowing as if expressing her dependence and gratitude to her owner.

On the table was the grape juice Livia had brought her. Amalia opened a bottle, took a small sip, then used a metal knife to cut the sausage on her plate. She brought the meat to her mouth and took a delicate bite.

Today's fried sausage was well-made, with a better taste and texture than the last time she had it.

Perhaps it was the addition of pepper, as Amalia could sense a slight spiciness, though it was subtle and within her acceptable range.

After eating a few slices, Amalia noticed the slender utensils she had deliberately left behind the day before, which Livia had called chopsticks. They were more convenient than knives and forks when eating dishes brought by Livia.

Seeing the brownish-gray wooden sticks reflected in her eyes, Amalia pursed her glossy lips.

After a moment, she put down her knife and fork and tried using the chopsticks to pick up food, attempting to get used to handling them.

The meal took a bit longer than usual. Amalia looked at the nearly empty plate, picked up a napkin, and carefully wiped her lips.

After returning the dishes to the first floor and washing her hands in the bathroom, she sat in front of her easel, staring at the canvas in silent contemplation.

How should she draw people...

Amalia hadn't lied to Livia; she really wasn't good at depicting people. The last time she had tried was when she first started painting, and it had been more of a casual doodle.

After sitting in front of the easel for over ten minutes, Amalia walked to the wardrobe, bent down, and pulled out a stack of canvases from the bottom.

Due to limited materials in the past, Amalia never discarded used canvases. Instead, she kept these relatively immature works in her room. If she ever ran out of materials, she could use the scraps from these failed pieces to continue painting.

A thin layer of dust had settled on the canvases. Amalia wiped it away and began flipping through them.

Sunset, dark clouds, an approaching storm, and a sealed room, most of the paintings were of landscapes and architecture, with a style that hinted at her later works.

When she reached the bottom few canvases, Amalia paused, her gaze deepening.

On one canvas, a golden-haired man wearing a crown sat on a throne. Since it was an early work, the lines and colors were chaotic, making the overall image appear somewhat messy.

However, the dominant color palette was warm, unlike her other works.

The man had no face, or rather, the area where his features should have been was smeared with ink, rendering it indistinct. His ornate clothing lacked detail, merely outlined with dark green paint.

Amalia stared at the figure on the canvas for a long time, her pink lips pressed together until they turned pale, a hint of coldness flickering in her eyes.

She had once fantasized that she was only temporarily staying in the castle, that the man named Hibbort Valeria, who had given her a more comfortable life than before, wouldn't treat her as a tool like her mother had.

She had hoped he would visit her like a normal father, offering warmth and care.

Amalia had waited in the castle year after year, watching the flowers in the garden bloom, wither, and eventually decay into the soil.

Hibbort never came to see her, not once. It was as if she didn't exist in the palace, as if she were a stain on his life that he wished to erase.

Thinking this, Amalia narrowed her eyes, a mocking smile curling her lips. She continued flipping through the canvases.

The next painting was of a figure's back, a young woman judging by her build and attire.

Golden hair, a pure white dress, a waist so slender it seemed it could be held with one hand, and long, straight legs clad in white stockings.

She wore pristine short boots that stood out beautifully against the gray-black floor tiles.

This painting had slightly better details than the previous one, though it still couldn't compare to Amalia's later works.

The woman stood in front of the castle, her back to the viewer. The dazzling sunlight fell on her smooth golden hair, and even the hem of her dress was bathed in light, exuding an aura of nobility and grace.

Amalia stared at the painting, feeling a vague sense of familiarity.

She looked a bit like... Livia?

The more she looked, the more she felt the figure's demeanor resembled Livia's. Amalia blinked, feeling a strange sensation in her heart.

This painting was from her second year in the castle, a time when she had definitely never met Livia.

It must be... just a coincidence...

After a quarter of an hour, Amalia took the painting out and placed it on her desk, then opened the book Livia had lent her.

The book, From Beginner to Master: The Art of Painting, mentioned techniques for drawing people and analyzing body structures.

Though not particularly detailed, it was still more helpful than Amalia's self-taught methods.

After finding the relevant section and reading it carefully, Amalia sat on the edge of her bed, removed her white strappy nightgown, leaving only her undergarments, and faced the mirror to study the human body structure based on the book's instructions.

......

Night fell, and Livia arrived as scheduled. As she turned the corner of the staircase, she saw the slender, golden-haired girl in a nightgown standing at the door, her watery eyes quietly gazing at her.

"Good evening, sister."

Amalia had grown increasingly adept at calling her "sister," the slightly rising tone hinting at her current joy and excitement.

Hearing this, Livia smiled softly and responded, "Good evening, Amalia."

As soon as Livia finished speaking, Amalia took a step forward, stood on her tiptoes, and gently wrapped her arms around Livia's waist, her soft body pressing into the woman's embrace.

"I missed you, sister."

Without any pretense, Amalia openly expressed her feelings.

Livia blinked and hugged Amalia back with equal tenderness, her voice soft.

"I missed you too, Amalia."

It was quite a contrast from the cold, aloof girl she had first met. Now, Amalia would call her "sister," ask for hugs, and cling to her like a little koala, rivaling even Auri in her clinginess.

But Livia didn't mind. She could sense the dependence in Amalia's actions, understanding that the golden-haired girl, who had lacked affection, simply craved security and wanted to feel her presence more tangibly.

The unique term of endearment, the genuine hugs, or even sleeping in the same bed, these were all ways Amalia sought to dispel her inner unease. Livia understood and didn't refuse.

After half a minute, feeling Livia's arms loosen slightly, Amalia held on for a few more seconds before slowly withdrawing her arms.

"Did you see the note I left this morning?" Livia asked softly.

Amalia nodded. "I saw it."

"Did you eat breakfast properly?"

"I overslept and ate in the afternoon."

After a pause, Amalia added, "The Cake was delicious..."

The breakfast the maid usually brought occasionally included tarin pie, but it was nowhere near as good as the one Livia had left for her.

"I'm glad to hear that. It seems my cooking skills are indeed good."

Livia gently ruffled the golden-haired girl's head, her voice tender.

Elise, Lyra, and Amalia had all praised her desserts. If she hadn't been born into this identity, she could probably have made a living as a pastry chef.

Amalia blinked, then asked softly, "Did you make that yourself, sister?"

Livia nodded and replied in a low voice, "Yes, I made it myself."

Except for the ingredients, which were from the pastry kitchen, every step had been done by Livia herself.

Thinking of the small piece of cake Auri had stolen, Amalia glanced back into the room, then quickly looked up at Livia with a gaze full of affection.

"Are you going to write something tonight, sister?"

"Yes."

"Then... can we do it together?" Amalia asked with anticipation in her voice.

Livia smiled. "Of course."

Hearing this, Amalia's eyes sparkled, and her lips parted slightly.

"Then I'll go get the book."

Following Amalia into the bedroom, Livia noticed the window was open, and a cool evening breeze brushed past, gently swaying the hem of her skirt.

Livia also noticed a plain cloth covering the easel. She hadn't seen it during her previous visits; this was the first time.

"Did you not paint today, Amalia?" Livia asked softly.

Amalia picked up the book and shook her head gently. "I did."

"...But it's not finished yet."

Livia's gaze shifted to the palette in front of the easel. She saw the unevenly mixed paints, with only a small amount of gold remaining from the red and yellow.

"I'll show it to you once it's done," Amalia said quietly, noticing Livia's lingering gaze on the cloth.

Livia nodded softly.

She was indeed curious about what Amalia had painted.

Moving to the adjacent room, Livia chatted with Amalia as usual, asking about her day, then picked up her pen and paper to start writing the second chapter of The short novel.

As a biweekly serial, the story needed to be straightforward and easy to follow, without confusing the readers. It had to maintain a sense of anticipation, ensuring they would want to keep reading.

With this in mind, Livia dipped her pen in ink and began writing.

("The servants reported that the lady had left the palace and was preparing to return to her family's estate. The man chuckled coldly, his handsome face carrying a hint of disdain.")

("An interesting woman, playing hard to get again.")

("Bring her back. Even if I don't like her, she can't just slip away from under my nose.")

Looking at the words she had written, Livia unconsciously furrowed her brows, feeling a strange sense of awkwardness.

To her modern sensibilities, these lines were embarrassingly cringe-worthy.

("Even if it's something I no longer want, no one else can just pick it up." The man stood up, a faint smile on his lips, exuding a devilish charm.)

("She said she hated him, her voice filled with anguish.")

Maintaining her composure and treating the writing as a product, Livia continued, her wrist moving smoothly as she filled the yellowed parchment with neat, delicate script.

Focused on her writing, Livia didn't notice that Amalia had been lingering on a particular page for a while. Under the dim candlelight, the girl quietly gazed at Livia's beautiful profile.

She saw the woman's delicate, small ears, her fair and straight nose, and her long, fluttering eyelashes that seemed almost translucent in the light.

No matter what she did, Livia always gave Amalia a sense of warmth and gentleness. She was like a soft cotton ball or a basin of warm water, just being near her made Amalia feel comforted and safe.

Livia's focused expression as she wrote only deepened this sense of gentleness, making it even more palpable.

Livia... Amalia repeated the name softly in her heart, her slender legs pressed tightly together.

After enduring Hibbort's indifference, Amalia had thought she would never expect anything from anyone again, until Livia appeared.

Reading, painting, even eating and sleeping—every moment she spent in the castle now felt meaningful.

The loneliness she had experienced while alone was merely a prelude to this moment, sitting at the same table as Livia, basking in her care.

Livia Valeria, her sister, and hers alone.

She looked forward to seeing her, even if it was only for a brief evening.

As she finished the last line, Livia noticed the gaze from beside her and turned to meet Amalia's eyes.

The golden-haired girl didn't look away, simply staring at her with a deep sense of possessiveness in her emerald-green eyes.

"Are you done, sister?" Amalia asked.

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In the next moment, that possessiveness vanished as if it had never existed.

"Yes, I'm done."

As soon as Livia spoke, she suddenly thought of something, a complex emotion stirring in her heart.

"Were you... watching me write just now?"

Regardless of how awkward it was, the content wasn't suitable for a child.

Amalia nodded and asked softly, "Do you like domineering people, sister?"