Beneath the palace’s vaulted ceiling, a thick haze quietly wove itself, the deep, solemn light making the air so still it was almost suffocating.
Moria’s hypocritical smile seemed even more sinister in that shadowed gloom, like a meticulously woven net slowly tightening, leaving no place to escape.
The moment she stopped moving, her mind would become a tangled mess, always feeling as if Moria’s eyes were fixed on her.
Sista walked through the familiar halls of Hailuosen Castle, a turbulent current of unease swirling quietly within her heart, impossible to calm.
She thought of her father, King Steyat, his figure growing increasingly frail with age, and a mix of emotions flooded her chest.
Steyat had relied on her to maintain his position, constantly expecting her involvement in state affairs. The King’s expectations were both her armor and her chains.
Out of respect for the King, and knowing she was in the wrong, Moria hadn’t made things too difficult for her. But how long could this superficial “harmony” last?
[Do not reveal your weakness. Do not show any emotion.]
That resolution, carved deep into her bones from the very beginning, gave Sista a rare sense of clarity.
Every corner of Hailuosen Castle seemed to hide watchful eyes.
Moria’s shadow was everywhere—like a sharp blade hanging overhead—forcing her to remain constantly on guard.
“How much longer must I endure this?”
She whispered softly, each word squeezed out between clenched teeth.
In the distance, the signal fires of the Rebels spread, and the Witch Tribe of Valivadan stirred restlessly.
Yet she could only stand by helplessly, day after day enduring a deep, suffocating powerlessness.
At least, something to enjoy—
Sista thought of making clothes.
If she made garments just for herself, it would be terribly boring.
But if she gave a carefully preserved dress to another noble lady, it would surely spark Moria’s inexplicable suspicions.
In that case, she would use that maid…
“This is only to use her to practice on, nothing more,” she muttered to the empty room.
Moonlight streamed through the small window, forming silver-white squares in the shadows.
She carried a glass lamp and stepped over those small squares of light, arriving at the study’s door.
A faint scent of ink filled the air, and Sista’s steps slowed, finally coming to a gentle stop.
Her gaze passed over rows of neatly arranged bookcases, settling on an old, worn volume—The Book of Fabric Dyeing.
She felt as if it had been a long time since she last opened it.
Back when she was still learning from her home tutor, she had studied many noble ladies’ handicraft skills, like embroidery, painting, and tie-dyeing, following the royal family’s traditions.
But she had always felt those were flashy but impractical skills, with little real significance, so she never put much effort into them.
“Washing, sizing removal, adding water and stirring…” she read aloud from the book.
At that moment, a faint knocking sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
The wooden door opened slightly, and then the silver-haired girl appeared before her.
“Your Highness, I’m here.” Su Ling stepped inside, placing the small oil lamp she carried onto a nearby surface.
“The bell hasn’t rung yet,” Sista said, casually closing the book on the desk as she turned.
“You came earlier than agreed. Looks like you did listen to what I said after all.”
“Well, it’s your order after all,” Su Ling replied.
Earlier that afternoon, Sista had said they would meet in the room, but just before leaving, she changed the location to the study—probably because her measuring tools were all kept here.
“Take off your shoes and stand here.”
After drawing the curtain, locking the door, and making sure everything was secure, Sista pointed to the round rug in front of her.
Su Ling obediently complied.
“Fold your clothing and put it aside. Raise your arms.”
She didn’t know how many times she’d been naked before her now, but Su Ling still felt a twinge of shyness and embarrassment.
Just finishing her bath, a faint scent of soap lingered on her skin. Her cheeks glowed pink from the warmth of the water, her skin delicate and smooth enough to burst like a bubble.
A few damp strands of hair clung unintentionally to her shoulders.
Sista stood a short distance away, the girl’s scent making her momentarily distracted, even tempted to lean closer for a sniff.
“Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
Though she spoke with such urgency, Sista’s eyes couldn’t leave the silver-haired girl.
Su Ling loosened the ties holding her silk stockings tightly against her legs, letting them slide down naturally.
Her pale skin appeared even more delicate and smooth in the soft lamp light, pure as fresh snow.
Then, her long skirt slipped gently down, revealing smooth, rounded shoulders tinted faintly pink by the light.
“I’m done, Your Highness.”
Raising her hands above her head, Su Ling spoke softly.
Holding the soft ruler in her hand, Sista stepped closer, reading the measurements by the lamp’s glow before gently wrapping the tape around Su Ling’s body.
Starting from her feet up to the top of her head, then measuring her arm and waist circumference.
Sista’s dark hair fell forward as she focused intently on the task, occasionally brushing against Su Ling’s skin with a ticklish touch.
During the measurements, Su Ling quietly glanced around. The small study was filled with towering bookshelves stacked high with books emitting a fragrance of ink that mingled with the soap scent on her skin.
She thought to herself: so serious…
Looking at Sista helping her measure with such focus, Su Ling imagined how she must look when bent over her desk working.
Suddenly, Su Ling felt a faint chill at the top of her chest.
Immediately after, a hard pressure pressed on the middle part, causing her to shrink her shoulders slightly as her soft curves quivered.
“Don’t move.”
Sista’s brow furrowed, holding the soft ruler firmly.
Great.
Annoying—why did her body get so sensitive just from measuring her bust?
Sista wasn’t doing anything inappropriate, so why was she the one getting distracted and overthinking?
Su Ling’s mind spun with jumbled thoughts, feeling embarrassed by her own reaction and deciding not to look at Sista anymore.
“All done.”
After a while, Sista lowered her hands.
“You’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I measured.”
“Hmm.”
Talking about this always made Su Ling blush.
In truth, every time she bathed, she couldn’t help but sneak a glance at her own body, noticing the subtle changes and pains of a girl slowly maturing, feelings stirring deep inside her that she couldn’t explain.
When she was a boy, all knowledge of girls came only from books.
But now, experiencing it firsthand, her interest in her own body’s growth only grew stronger.
Her waistline had gradually formed delicate curves, and the gentle rise of her chest had become more pronounced.
Pressing on the center, she could feel a small, hard bud, tingling with soreness.
Her hips had become fuller as well, the curves visible even under her long skirt.
All of these were experiences Su Ling had never had before.
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