Chapter 692: Get a little more intimate?

Whether in the original The Innocent Knight of the Stained Light, or in the composite judgment Lyra and Monica arrived at after a series of information exchanges, it could be considered confirmed: the sacred relic within the Church of Light and the Holy Sword of Light in the former’s hand came from the same source.

Then, obviously, as the novel’s plot continued to advance, some day in the future, Lyra, fated heroine that she was, would be very likely to obtain that relic, and a chain of reactions would follow.

In Astrid’s earlier dreams, the moment Lyra "rebellion by force" against Amalia came during the brutal era after the Valeria Empire shifted from defense to offense, massacring commoners and trampling the kingdom’s lands at will.

As the Valeria Empire’s bulwark, her rank had reached the astonishing level of a middle tier Arcanist Mage, speaking in a sense, a Lyra Beckett left to grow wildly unchecked would be stronger than she was now.

Only... after enduring so many hardships and trials, she will also be in far more pain than her current self. Whether that was good or bad, no one could easily conclude.

Understanding what Astrid meant, Lyra, her hand resting on her lover’s thigh, fluttered her lashes a few times and spoke softly.

"Astrid wants me to... get close to it?"

She had long known of the Light relic’s existence, and had even interacted with it through remote connection, but in truth, Lyra had never seen that mass of light, nor reached out to truly touch it even once.

Astrid shook her head, her tone was gentle.

"No. Just observe it at close range. You don’t need to touch it."

"It’s true the Light relic shares the same origin as the Holy Sword of Light in your hand, but no one can say what would happen if you suddenly came into contact with it."

"Whether it needs to test and acknowledge a master like the sword does; whether it will show you leniency because of your transgressive-grade affinity with the light element; whether combining the two relics will exceed what you can bear, everything is still unknown."

In those predictive dreams, Lyra also didn’t seem to show any sign of having contained the other half of the relic. Because what a dream could convey was vague and limited, Astrid could only infer from broad strokes that the fated heroine of that era still hadn’t touched the relic, or rather, hadn’t dared to rashly attempt a fusion.

And if she pushes that line of reasoning further: Lyra Beckett, having entered a cooperative stage with Monica, had already reached the level of a high-tier Arcanist Mage. If that was the event-trigger threshold her little sister had set, then it would be best to attempt anything only after Lyra advanced into that realm.

And that was merely the relatively safer case, considering Lyra’s personal strength alone, while ignoring a whole series of complex factors like state of mind, condition, timing, and so on.

"..."

When the cool female voice fell silent, the room sank into a brief silence. Lyra felt the smooth sensation transmitted through her fingertips. The skin of that thigh, belonging to the Empire’s number-one beauty, pale and tender, looked even more lustrous beneath the high, luxurious night-sky-colored silk, so smooth it felt as though her palm were touching a clump of inky, delicate snow.

After a few seconds, Lyra drew her knees together. Her two white-stockinged legs pressed tightly together, like slightly chilled vanilla-scented sorbet.

"So Astrid... is afraid I’ll get hurt...?"

So only observe, don’t touch, prevent every possible danger caused by reckless action.

If she hadn’t misunderstood, that was what Astrid meant.

Hearing the question from the person beside her, Astrid turned her head and glanced at Lyra. The white-stockinged girl with pink hair and blue eyes noticed the gaze, and the blush that was already there grew even hotter, fortunately hidden beneath her pale pink hair, not directly exposed.

"Mm. I’m worried you’ll get hurt," Astrid affirmed after a moment, her voice softer than before by several degrees.

"Besides being the Empire’s Regent in public, I’m also your lover. Naturally, I don’t want you facing such dangerous circumstances."

"If you get hurt because I misjudged... I’ll be in terrible pain."

Last time, when the Pope of Light, Hebrew, launched a sudden assault, Lyra and Charlotte were sealed inside the barrier and couldn’t escape. Astrid’s heart had already been turned upside down.

The fear of losing the one she loved; the worry that the situation was slipping beyond control, everything shook inside her chest, again and again prodding at her heart.

But as the Empire’s Regent, the highest commander outside the barrier at the time, no matter what, she couldn’t lose composure in front of her subordinates. She could only force herself to stay calm and direct the soldiers as they tried to break the deadlock.

If Amalia had been there, she would certainly have caught the tension Astrid hid within her movements, at that time the Empire’s Regent was merely a peak tier Magnus. In a melee dominated by Arcanist Mages, she was an ant. Choosing to personally step onto the battlefield with her priceless body was a decision in which emotions had overruled reason.

So after that, Astrid’s actions became relatively conservative. Even if she truly had to take a risk, she would do her best to stand by Lyra’s side and advance or retreat together with her.

Although on paper, if they really fought, who protected whom was still uncertain, mutual support was still better than one person bearing everything alone.

Hearing Astrid suddenly fire such a completely unmasked straight ball, Lyra froze. A few seconds passed, and a tide-like blush climbed her cheeks.

"I... is that so..."

The voice was airy and soft, yet it carried enough weight for one to feel the heaviness within her words.

If Lyra got hurt... I’d be in terrible pain...

The word she used wasn’t "uncomfortable," but "pain", something far deeper in degree.

Freed from the constraint of her little pumps, the pink-haired girl’s two white-stockinged feet on the soft carpet unconsciously tangled at Astrid’s words. Her toes instinctively stretched, faintly translucent beneath the fabric; her delicate lotus feet were pink through white, like lovely cream butterflies.

"...I got it!" the girl said, her face red.

As Lyra’s voice fell, Astrid’s lips curved. The black-stockinged legs she had naturally let down after the talk ended crossed again, and she spoke in a soft, low tone.

"I don’t know whether Lyra believes what I’m saying, but actually, from that night I poured red wine all over you, and then saw the soaked, little pink-haired pitiful thing in the next room..."

"I’ve wanted you to live healthy and well, Lyra."

Back then, Astrid had only been an outsider who had heard many tales about this novel protagonist, pure-minded and tenacious. With the goodwill those stories left behind, she made later decisions. Afterward, the emotion called liking gradually invaded her heart, until she could no longer imagine life without that pink silhouette.

Even the back of her hand was covered by smooth silk. Lyra lowered her gaze. Her pale, tender hand was pressed between Astrid’s two long, slender black-stockinged thighs; softness from all directions, and the faint sounds of front-and-back friction, brushed at her heart like a gentle, fine comb.

"..."

Wasn’t this supposed to be talking business at first? How did it turn into flirting again?

With her heart racing, Lyra replayed everything from the end of her contact with Monica to the moment just now, finally realizing that the one who had steered the topic here wasn’t Astrid, but herself, the one who wanted more appreciation from her lover.

Lyra, when did you become a kid desperate for attention!

No sooner had she asserted at herself in her heart than she heard Astrid speak, her voice carrying a hint of allure.

"Lyra... how does it feel in your hand?"

The black dress swayed gently with her leg movements, stirring waves of fragrance. The Empire’s jewel, those breathtaking features, looked even more refined in the light. Her damp pink lips, once stained with black tea, opened and closed; those cool crimson eyes held a trace of amused laughter.

"I changed the stockings to a different material on purpose, slipperier ice silk, with some fibers added to cling to the skin. The handfeel should be a bit different from yesterday’s velvet, right?"

On the supply-starved front line, there naturally weren’t so many costumes to play with. To reward her knight, and to keep the romance fresh, Astrid didn’t mind doing a little extra.

If clothing wasn’t convenient, then adjust details elsewhere. In any case, after prolonged, in-depth contact, Astrid had already more or less figured out Lyra’s most dangerous weak points, and what kinds of outfits made her emotions rise faster.

It already hit her perfectly; with her lover’s deliberate cooperation, calling it a dimensionality reduction strike wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

Hearing this, Lyra pressed her pink lips together. Even in her blue eyes, a faint mist of moisture rippled. Her small, white-stockinged ankles hooked and crossed together, reluctant to relax even a little.

"It’s icy-cool... very soft and very slippery..."

But if she felt careful, she could still feel body heat passing through the silk, perhaps not only because the stocking material had changed, but also because Astrid’s body temperature itself ran low.

"Is that so?" Astrid pretended to think, then continued.

"Then is it comfortable, or uncomfortable to touch?"

"..."

If they weren’t talking privately in a small room like this, Lyra probably wouldn’t be able to answer such a question no matter what.

Facing the warm orange lamplight on the desk, feeling the velvety sensation beneath her palm and the back of her hand, Lyra tensed her legs and answered in a small voice.

"...Comfortable."

After all, the Eldest Princess was publicly acknowledged as the Empire’s number-one beauty, what part of her wasn’t lovely?

Hearing Lyra’s answer, Astrid leaned down to kiss the girl’s earlobe, then pressed close, her tone lazy.

"Good. Means I didn’t change them for nothing~"

The way she said that... as if she did it all for her...

Only then did Lyra realize she’d been seduced by her lover’s looks. Her cheeks reddened further. The shame from the contact made her exert a slight force, wanting to pull her hand away, only to feel Astrid respond with the same strength.

That sensation, her hand pinned between soft silk, was only slightly inferior to that night in the past, when the silver-haired, red-eyed imperial princess lay on a soft bed and used legs wrapped in delicate black stockings to measure Lyra’s waist.

After who knew how long, having finally come back out of "steam-princess mode" and able to think and speak normally again, Lyra asked Astrid in a low voice.

"That plan is fine, but... if Monica has other ideas, wouldn’t it be too dangerous?"

All the way here, the Saintess of Light, Monica, had indeed provided them with no small amount of assistance. Even Amalia’s placement of agents in the Kingdom of Velys couldn’t do without Monica’s arrangements up and down the line.

But the other party had only one reason for doing so: she believed Astrid was the so-called incarnation of the Lord, one who could lead humanity into a new era.

The more Lyra came into contact with politics, the more she could feel its complexity. She believed her lover had that capability, but Monica didn’t know Astrid as well as she did. To make such a decision so easily, and to believe in it unwaveringly, required enormous resolution.

What if what Astrid wanted was the entire kingdom, perfect control of the Church of Light? Wouldn’t Monica just be turning herself into a tool?

"Don’t worry. The possibility of Monica betraying us is very low," Astrid said.

In another world line, Lyra had also reached many collaborations with Monica. And in the later fragmented memories, they overturned Pope Hebrew’s de facto control over the Church of Light, only lacking the final step of blowing the main cathedral in Seville City sky-high.

With the bonus intelligence of prophetic dreams, plus Astrid’s long-term assessment of Monica, she could fully understand the other woman’s slightly fanatical feelings toward her.

"Astrid... trusts her that much?"

"Mm. Even if she has other thoughts, at most it’ll be some harmless little scheming."

Their long-term interests aligned in the grand direction, that alone was enough to build a bridge of cooperation. What’s more, Monica had already shown more than enough sincerity; instead, it was they who still hadn’t truly given her what she wanted.

Correcting the Church’s faith. Saving the suffering sick. Ending war between people.

After hearing Astrid, Lyra, who chose to trust her completely, finally let go of her last thread of doubt, and began actively discussing with her the detailed steps of the next plan.

They discussed until around nine or ten in the evening, before finally finishing.

Considering that joint casting required spiritual resonance, and that purifying the plague would take place inside enemy territory, even with Elise and Monica as dual protections, they still couldn’t be as oblivious to the outside world as they would be on their own land.

At the very least, they had to leave a strand of attention outside as an alarm, and that required the two of them to be close enough to perform joint casting even without fully overlapping their souls. Compared to the Liya Tower Fortress period, the two who had laid bare their feelings had already advanced another level in joint-casting proficiency. Achieving this was not difficult.

"Um... Astrid..."

After the discussion, Lyra’s pretty face still held a trace of rosy color, and because of what she was about to say next, it turned even redder.

"If we’re going to do joint casting... tonight, should we..."

"...get a little more intimate?"

"..."

Rarely did Lyra express so straightforwardly that she wanted affection. Astrid blinked, then spoke gently.

"Of course."