Feeling her hair being gently stroked by someone's hand, and listening to Livia's soft and steady tone, Amalia lowered her eyes, the light in her emerald pupils flickering on and off.
Could Astrid Calliste really say such things... She herself was the princess doted on by Hibbort...
Why would she care how the emperor treated a bastard daughter, and with what mood she had just spoken those words.
Livia... Who are you exactly...
Sniffling, Amalia closed her eyes, silently feeling the cool and smooth touch of the woman's skin, the delicate stocking on her cheek like a cloud in the sky, soft and smooth, carrying a faint, unique fragrance of Livia.
"Sister, why are you asking me this?"
After a while, Amalia spoke in a low voice.
Before answering Livia's question, Amalia had hesitated for a long time, but ultimately decided to tell the other her true thoughts.
Astrid was Astrid, Livia was Livia, the latter would always be her dearest sister.
