Princess’s Struggle for Survival Chapter 551: Fate

"W-where did Astrid get such an exaggerated idea..."

Hearing Astrid’s lavish praise, Lyra, who was carefully massaging her, blushed slightly. Her hands continued moving atop the smooth, slender feet, the pure black silk fabric dimpling into a beautiful curve, giving the sensation of touching a sweet, tempting velvet cake.

Growing up reading knightly tales, Lyra had indeed dread of becoming a powerful knight.

But right now, she felt she was still far from achieving that goal.

Hearing her, Astrid lifted up, her delicate, gossar-thin eyelashes shading her shimring crimson eyes.

"It’s not exaggerated at all..."

"Maybe Lyra is even the main protagonist of the entire book."

At least before her arrival, Lyra had been unquestionably the fated heroine, so much so that even the novel’s title, [The Innocent Knight of the Stained Light], referred directly to this innocent, pink-haired, blue-eyed girl before her.

Enjoying the ticulous massage and feeling the soreness in her body gradually fade, Astrid let out a soft moan, her tender voice stirring the waters of Lyra’s heart.

"Lyra, do you believe in fate?"

A cold evening breeze brushed past their hair, fluttering the girls’ loose dresses. Lyra paused briefly before replying.

"Do you an, Astrid, that kind of ending where no matter what the characters in the story do, they’re destined to arrive at a certain conclusion?"

Like the traditional tale of the princess, born solely to be abducted by a wicked dragon, while her guardian knight overcos millions of trials and ultimately defeats the beast to rescue her.

"Mm, sothing like that."

Astrid’s voice was gentle, matching her relaxed state of mind.

"Imagine soone is destined to beco the savior of the world. No matter what she’s doing now, whether diligently studying or indulging in pleasures, she’ll eventually, by so twist of fate, walk the correct path, pushed forward by various factors."

In the original story, Lyra was constantly targeted by the antagonist, Astrid. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Lyra’s initial motivation to study magic hard ca not only from repaying her parents’ upbringing and buying a big house for her family, but also partly from resisting the pressure imposed by the Third Princess, determined not to let her be easily dominated.

Now, in this tiline, Astrid had chosen to coexist completely with Lyra. As a result, Lyra received learning materials far beyond those available to ordinary commoners, progressing at an astonishing rate, and had already reached the peak tier Master Knight status by the ti of the war between the two nations.

Even the part about joining the frontlines remains largely unchanged, though her initial motivation had shifted from protecting her classmates in the civilian unit to self-improvent and benefiting all under heaven.

Continuing along this path, Lyra was inevitably destined to achieve legend.

Hearing this, Lyra fluttered her eyelashes and answered softly.

"I feel that so-called fate is more like the deliberate creation of a story’s author. Like how Astrid ntioned in the author’s notes of ’The Overbearing Prince and His Fleeing Bride’s Ultimate Devotion’, what was it again?, a ’more dramatic treatnt’?"

Whether it was Lyra’s imagination or not, when she ntioned the title of Astrid’s first serialized work in the Empire Weekly, Astrid’s pale, jade-like toes curled slightly beneath the thin silk, tugging at the delicate fabric.

"If everything is as Astrid says, predestined by fate, then wouldn’t all efforts and struggles beco aningless?"

Looking backward from the result, one could easily summarize everything with the word "fate." But no one knew what the future truly held, how could anyone define it halfway through?

At least Lyra, who lacked an omniscient perspective and didn’t know Astrid possessed mories from a past life, thought this way.

Astrid didn’t answer imdiately, silently pondering Lyra’s words.

From her perspective, Lyra’s journey to this point generally followed the growth trajectory of the original heroine, only that she hadn’t endured nearly as much suffering, and her daily life wasn’t as miserable as in the original story.

Thinking back to the alternate tiline, then looking at the person before her now...

It seed no matter how Astrid treated Lyra, the girl would grow like a dandelion sprouting from a wall crack, persistently thriving in adversity. The only difference lies in the amount of sunshine and rain: gentle drizzles or violent storms.

No matter how harsh the outside world... she will always grow...

Could this be attributed to fate?

Gazing at Lyra, whose expression was gentle in the lamplight, her ears faintly pink, Astrid propped herself up on her slender arms, elegantly crossing her long, smooth, black-stockinged legs.

In the past, she had always viewed everything about Lyra as predetermined fate, as if the girl were entirely wrapped in the halo of the "fated heroine," tightly bound to the role of protagonist.

Effort leads to reward, whatever she wanted to do would succeed, naturally favored by fate, able to overco all obstacles.

But in reality, what truly helped her preserve her integrity through adversity and prosperity, and steadily advance toward a bright future,

Was it fate, or the sweat Lyra she had poured?

Did she simply lie back and accept Lady Fortune’s gifts, or did she study every day until past ten at night, constantly reading and practicing magic, rarely engaging in leisure?

Clearly, the latter dominated.

Certainly, Lyra possessed magical talent unmatched by most, but her diligence and pure, virtuous character were equally precious.

Like in the Trial of the Sword of Light, the extraordinary affinity with light elents was rely the key to entering the barrier, but what truly earned the Sword of Light’s recognition was Lyra’s pure heart.

All along, she had unintentionally downplayed Lyra’s own efforts, viewing everything today as destiny.

The girl didn’t know anything about being the protagonist, nor did she believe in fate. What truly set her apart from the crowd wasn’t just what Lyra herself ntioned, eting soone like Astrid as good fortune.

More importantly, it was her own inner strength.

Amalia was the sa, ascending to power at eighteen, establishing new laws, reforming old systems, managing logistics, balancing nobles. She wasn’t born an emperor but beca one through relentless study and effort day after day.

"You’re right, Lyra."

Astrid’s voice was soft, as if she’d gained a new understanding of the girl before her.

"No one can foresee the future and slap a ’fate’ label on the outco."

Reality isn’t fiction. Lyra becoming the fated heroine wasn’t because she was supposed to sit in that seat, but because all her qualities combined to produce this result.

Before being a protagonist, she was first Lyra Beckett, a lovely girl from Morin Village.

Sensing the atmosphere had moderately shifted toward seriousness, Astrid, who had originally wanted a light-hearted evening of shopping and relaxation with Lyra, looked at the pink-haired maid before her and teasingly changed the subject.

"So, what did you do all day today, Lyra?"

According to reports from the housemaids, Lyra had only left her room for breakfast and lunch, spending the rest of the ti inside.

"Reading a magic book I hadn’t finished before," Lyra answered truthfully.

"Duke Charles has so private collections, texts not available at the magic academy, so I borrowed them to read."

In the path of magic, even Arcanist mages couldn’t claim to have reached its end, let alone soone like her, still rely a magus.

Only by constantly absorbing knowledge could she face future troubles.

"I see."

Eight listening, Astrid pondered quietly, speaking calmly.

"Then Lyra must have seen the note I left on your desk."

The parchnt instructs her to properly store the clothes.

At Astrid’s ntion, Lyra imdiately recalled the rack placed under the sunlight this morning. Her knees, clad in delicate white silk, moderately pressed together, along with the little leather shoes underneath.

"Yes, I saw it."

"...I’ve put them away."

The special outfit, more suggestive lingerie than a proper maid uniform, that Astrid had worn yesterday was now stored within the Sword of Light’s internal space.

"Good." Astrid’s lips lifted slightly as she continued.

"Lyra... didn’t do anything strange to them, right?"

After all, she had only last night taught Lyra how to find an outlet to vent the desires hidden deep within when burdened by stress and negative emotions.

The mont Lyra heard Astrid’s teasing tone, she instantly knew what the other was hinting at, the hazy, alcohol-tinged, ambiguous scene flashing vividly in her mind.

Thankfully, the large bed they slept in didn’t face a mirror directly opposite; otherwise, given the position Astrid had placed her in, legs spread, like a doll being guided, the mont Lyra saw herself, she probably wouldn’t have dared show her face for days.

Being held by soone she loved, legs gently parted, personally like a plaything, anyone would feel embarrassed recalling it.

After a brief blush, Lyra quickly replied.

"Of course not!"

Did she look like soone who couldn’t control herself?

Seeing Lyra’s strong reaction, Astrid suppressed a smile, her slender fingers brushing aside a strand of pink hair, lightly touching Lyra’s long, slender neck, slightly flushed.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Regardless of what she might have thought at the ti, if she hadn’t done it, she hadn’t done it.

Feeling Lyra’s body tremble faintly, Astrid nodded, her tone gentle.

"Judging by Lyra’s expression, you probably really didn’t."

Otherwise, the mont she asked, she’d been too flustered to speak coherently.

But still... she should tell Lyra what needed to be said.

"That thod, while effective for relieving stress and pleasing oneself, isn’t good if done too often."

"Only do it when you truly feel the need. Don’t treat it as a daily necessity, nor regard it as desecration towards yourself or your lover."

Astrid placed her finger at the corner of Lyra’s lips, gliding along the soft, plump curve before lightly tapping.

"As long as it’s moderate, it’s nothing particularly shaful."

Astrid had actually said similar things to Amalia before. Perhaps even more so, since Amalia might need such guidance even more than Lyra, not just because she was younger, but more important, due to her mindset.

Amalia wouldn’t view thinking of herself and doing such things as a shaful act.

Feeling the rising heat on Lyra’s cheeks, Astrid licked her lips, her voice becoming alluring.

"Of course, if Lyra needs any special materials... to help complete the entire process..."

"You can always tell . Whatever you desire, I won’t hesitate to provide."

This statent was no less impactful than last night, when Astrid had gently embraced her while hooking a leg around her knees.

Special materials... What exactly did she an?

Sothing that could substitute for Astrid?

It must... have so direct connection...

Putting together Astrid’s earlier words, Lyra instantly understood, her heart pounding violently in her chest.

"..."

Suddenly, she realized why Astrid had held her and guided her last night.

Inhaling the other’s fragrance, feeling the warmth of her beloved, and that smooth, silky touch against her calves, indeed, it makes arousal much easier.

"...Understood."

Hearing the slight panic in Lyra’s voice, Astrid pressed her advantage. Lowering her outstretched arm, she gently lifted the black-stockinged foot held in Lyra’s palm, trailing it across Lyra’s barely visible Adam’s apple, stopping at her chin.

Feeling the smooth, delicate touch against her jaw, inhaling faint, intoxicating fragrance, Lyra completely froze, her hands falling limply at her skirt.

Astrid!!!

Did she know what she was doing?

Seeming particularly fascinated by Lyra’s reaction, Astrid, no longer feeling tired, suppressed a smile. Her soft, smooth, tempting black silk foot acted almost like a hand, gently applying pressure to tilt Lyra’s face upward.

"Lyra~"

"Such a well-behaved maid."

Her cool voice carried a hint of playfulness, as if guessing Lyra wouldn’t dare move. Lyra swallowed nervously, her white-silk feet rising onto their toes beneath the bench.

Teased by Astrid again... it was always like this...

As if certain she wouldn’t dare retaliate.

After last night, sothing inside Lyra seed to have broken. Straightening her back, her hand, which had been nervously smoothing her pink skirt, slowly rose and grasped the black-stockinged foot that was teasing her chin.

Surprised that Lyra, after she had freed herself, had now actively grabbed her, Astrid didn’t imdiately move, silently allowing the other to restrain her ankle.

Then, she saw Lyra’s lashes tremble slightly, as if making a decision, a complex emotion flickering in her blue eyes.

Shyness from being teased, restraint from suppressed desire, and a tiny trace of vengeful desire, wanting Astrid to face the sa humiliating situation.

Astrid could tease her so recklessly... did she think she was just too soft to bite back?

Gently gripping the woman’s foot, a part slightly clumsier than her agile hands, Lyra lowered her head, her long pink hair concealing her crimson ears.

The next mont, cherry-blossom-soft lips pressed against the lead-black, smooth silk fabric.