Regardless of what the esteemed Emperor was thinking at this moment, for Astrid, doing her best was the only thing she could do now, and the rest had to be left to the judgment of fate.
She sat on the edge of the bed with Amalia in her arms. The soft sensation in her embrace slightly eased Astrid's inner anxiety. She leaned her head on her younger sister's shoulder, her arm gently circling around the girl's slender and delicate waist.
Sensing something unusual with her older sister, Amalia obediently stayed still, placing her hands on her knees. Her two smooth and delicate silk-stockinged legs tightly pressed against the woman's thighs.
After a while, Amalia softly spoke up.
"Sister, what's wrong?"
Perhaps because she had been close to Astrid for so long, Amalia was extremely sensitive to changes in her sister. Whether it was the scent of other women or subtle emotional shifts, nothing escaped her notice.
