Helena elegantly cut off a small piece of tender veal, her movements fluid and graceful. Even the thin lace gloves on her wrists did not ripple a single crease.
“Lucia, how have you been lately?”
“I’ve been doing well on my own. After all, I’ve always been alone.”
Lucia emphasized the word “alone” deliberately. It was her counterattack against Helena. Because, well… unlike Helena, Lucia’s silver knife scraped against the porcelain plate with a sharp screech. She bit down hard on those words.
Under the table, her legs, clad in pure white lace thigh-high stockings, restlessly crossed and uncrossed. Due to her emotional surge, she unconsciously pressed her knees together tightly. The soft flesh of her inner thighs, squeezed by the stockings, rubbed against each other, the lace trim chafing against her delicate skin.
‘Resentment? Of course there is.’
Abandoned and ignored for all those years—even though Lucia could now support herself, even though she could live freely on her own—to say there was no resentment would be a lie!
Where were you when I needed you?
Helena’s hand holding the knife and fork paused for half a second. “That’s right. You’re a child who can work hard even alone.”
“Oh.”
Lucia responded coldly, lowering her head to put a piece of carrot into her mouth.
Lucia gave a brief reply and continued eating the food on her plate, clearly not wanting to engage, only wishing to finish quickly. She didn’t even bother to look up, focusing solely on chewing, as if this side dish was more interesting than the Mother of the Empire sitting across from her.
Helena turned her head. “And Mia?”
Mia immediately put down her wine glass. Because of the slightly exaggerated movement, the heavy fruit beneath her deep V-neckline rose and fell with her breath, creating ripples of soft flesh against the dark green velvet fabric. She responded with a smile, exuding a sweet and cloying scent. “Everyone at the Academy has been very kind to me. My recent work at the Imperial Capital Church has also gone smoothly.”
‘Geez, so pretentious.’
But to be fair, if outsiders saw this pose, at least nine out of ten—whether male or female—would fall for her. Dressed like this, paired with her exaggerated movements, it felt like a scene straight out of an 18+ film. Lucia wasn’t one of those disgusting men; eat your meal properly. She didn’t care for borderline softcore.
“I see. That’s good.”
After that, only brief exchanges followed. The soft clink of knives and forks, the faint sounds of chewing and swallowing, and the rustling of the three women’s clothing fabrics.
Lucia ate mechanically, observing the situation from the corner of her eye. Helena hadn’t treated her coldly as she had expected. Was she really just here for a meal? Although Mia was closer to her, Helena didn’t talk much with Mia at the table, nor did they delve into deep topics. Everything seemed normal.
Lucia looked at the dishes on the table. According to protocol, they had already eaten more than half. If there really was something to say, it should be now.
And sure enough…
Helena gently set down her knife and fork. The servants standing in the distance quietly withdrew. She looked at her daughter sitting beside her. Helena slightly turned sideways, and her long legs, wrapped in sheer white stockings, shifted position under the table. The fabric rustled softly, sounding especially alluring in the quiet space.
She gazed at Lucia beside her, her eyes seeming to look into a distant place.
“You’ve grown up, Lucia.”
Lucia had to stop eating. She looked up, meeting the eyes of this woman who was almost her “complete form.” The same silver hair, the same gray eyes. But the calm maturity and voluptuousness that time had bestowed upon Helena were something Lucia could never imitate, no matter how hard she tried.
Though they looked alike, the two were completely different—both in personality and experience.
Helena was the daughter of a merchant. While traveling with her parents for business, young Helena had witnessed too much suffering among ordinary people. As the youngest daughter of the Merchant Guild, she did what she could to help those around her, but it wasn’t enough. So she joined the Moon Church, becoming famous for her self-sacrifice and selfless devotion. Then… as the story goes, Helena met Ian, who was then the worthless Fifth Prince.
Lucia, on the other hand, was born with a silver spoon in her mouth—the Emperor’s only daughter. But the hardships she endured as a child were no less than those of an ordinary person.
Still… looking at this compassionate, saintly face, resentment grew inside Lucia like wild weeds.
Since you feel empathy for everything in this world, since you can grant kindness to an orphan on the street… why are you indifferent to your own daughter?
Is it because seeing me reminds you of the pain you once endured? Or because you couldn’t save me, felt powerless, and chose to run away? So you went and picked up a new, healthy, perfect daughter to raise instead?
But Lucia was tired too. From the moment Mia came to the Academy, she had been secretly competing with these two women. But now, looking at these two unassailable women, she suddenly felt it was all utterly meaningless. If she kept draining herself like this, she would only hurt herself.
So, she took a deep breath and gave a reply befitting a good daughter. She no longer wanted to argue with Helena.
“After all, I look like you, unlike my two brothers. Though they inherited your features, their hair color comes from His Majesty.”
“That’s right… When we reunited at the Academy that day, I was utterly stunned.” Helena seemed full, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “I really thought it was another me. After all, at your age, I was also a Candidate Saintess, attending the Zelion Royal Academy. Even my outfit was exactly the same.”
Lucia was speechless. ‘Just forcing conversation, aren’t you?’
The uniform of Zelion Royal Academy had been the same design for so many years.
Rumor had it that it was designed by Ophelia. Though at first glance it was an unremarkable black-and-white sailor uniform, the gilded magical patterns were the true essence of Ophelia’s design. They were both beautiful and practical—visual obscuring effects ensured that even when girls’ skirts fluttered in battle, nothing indecent was exposed. The enchantments for dust removal and odor elimination kept adolescent girls smelling fresh at all times.
So… unless Ophelia herself wanted to change the design, no one could do it. She hadn’t been at Zelion Royal Academy for decades, and had only recently stayed for a few years to look after her child. Even if Merlin stayed on after graduation, she would probably leave first.
Lucia chewed slowly and swallowed the last bite of food. Since the Empress had stopped eating, she didn’t need to keep going. It wasn’t as if she was famished. Being watched while eating felt awkward, like a pet being stared at while it fed.
But sitting idly was also awkward. She decided to slowly drink a spoonful of soup, pretending to be occupied.
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