Chapter 419: Tests
Astrid saw Hibbort again on the morning of the third day after Viscount Rostlin’s trial ended. The once majestic and proud Emperor of the Empire lay on his bed, his formerly thick, wavy golden hair now slightly whitened at the tips, the marks of age unmistakably visible. Not only had new wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, but his entire aura had grown significantly older.
This was an active summons after several failed attempts at visitation, the first time in nearly half a month that Astrid had stepped into the Emperor’s private chambers.
"Father... seems to be quite tiredd..."
After bowing respectfully, Astrid approached Hibbort’s bedside. She noticed the chair placed nearby and spoke softly.
"The physician said Father fell ill due to overwork during the seasonal change, constantly preoccupied with state affairs to the point of exhaustion."
That was the official explanation relayed by several ministers to the outside world, although its credibility was questionable. How many actually believed it remains unknown.
After all, even without wielding the Imperial Scepter, Hibbort’s personal strength had reached the Crusader rank, on par with Arcanist mages. His constitution and healing ability far surpass ordinary people. How could he possibly fall so easily ill?
Gazing at the silver-haired princess before him, dressed in a black silk dress and exuding a gentle elegance, Hibbort remained silent for a moment, as if struggling to process Astrid’s words through a fogged mind. After half a minute, he slightly parted his dry lips and spoke in a low voice.
"Perhaps I truly am overworked."
"...Sit down, my jewel."
With Hibbort’s permission, Astrid gracefully bent her knees and sat on the visiting chair next to the bed. Her smooth, long legs sheathed in black stockings were neatly angled to the side, the lace-trimmed hem of her skirt covering most of her tender skin, revealing only a small portion of her slender calf and equally refined satin high heels.
"How is Father feeling now?"
"..."
The room fell into brief silence. Astrid folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited patiently.
"Fine."
Hardly had the word left his lips when Hibbort suddenly broke into a heavy cough, his hoarse voice echoing through the bedroom like a withered tree about to collapse under a violent wind.
Seeing this, Astrid turned her head and noticed the teacup on the nightstand. She quickly poured hot water, used ice magic to cool it to a suitable temperature, and gently lifted it.
"Father, please drink some warm water."
Hibbort did not refuse. He slowly propped himself up and took a sip from the cup.
Noticing his lips had regained moisture after being cracked and dry, Astrid lowered her crimson eyes, a faint trace of sorrow flickering in their depths.
"Please take care of your health... Father..."
This emotion wasn’t mere pretense. After inheriting the original Astrid’s memories, Astrid deeply understood how much this aging Emperor doted on her, the daughter of his closest friend. He truly treated her like his own child
Beyond genuine sentiment, Astrid also had personal reasons for not wanting Hibbort to die too soon.
As long as the Emperor remained on the throne, her safety will be greatly assured. Moreover, Hibbort’s presence could delay the invasion steps of the Kingdom of Velys, granting Amalia more time to learn and grow.
Hearing Astrid’s words, Hibbort’s gaze lifted from the teacup and rested on the princess’s delicate, gossamer-thin eyelashes.
"I will."
Placing the cup back on the nightstand, Hibbort spoke again.
"Elise and Livia haven’t come?"
The head maid had raised Astrid since childhood, and nearly all of her actions involved her presence.
Astrid shook her head gently, her voice soft.
"Since Father is unwell, I didn’t want too many people disturbing your rest, so I asked Elise to wait outside the chambers."
"As for Livia..."
Mentioning that familiar name, Astrid paused slightly and lifted her eyes toward Hibbort.
The man had already lain back down, his blue pupils deep and calm.
"...She’s reading in the chambers."
After saying this, Astrid stopped avoiding eye contact, quietly staring at the golden-haired man on the bed, searching his facial expression for any useful information. Hibbort showed no reaction, merely replying in a flat tone.
"She enjoys reading?"
"Yes. Ever since she moved into the chambers, I’ve been teaching her how to read. Every day since, Livia has spent time going through various books."
Speaking of Amalia, Astrid suddenly recalled the night they first met. Years of isolation had nearly stripped the little tyrant of her language ability, leaving her only able to speak in short, clipped words, unable to form full sentences.
But clearly, this wasn’t the right moment for nostalgic memories.
"She’s very interested in history and humanities, especially Imperial history," said Astrid.
Hibbort gave a slight nod, his tone showing no discernible emotion.
"Enjoying reading is a good habit. But knowledge on paper requires experience and insight to be applied flexibly."
"Whether in learning, or in life."
"..."
"Father speaks wisely."
Astrid softly agreed, then added more hot water to the cup.
"I’ll teach her diligently."
Although the statement didn’t mean much, at least it showed willingness. How Hibbort interpreted it was up to him.
Watching the warm steam rise around the bedposts patterned with honeysuckle, Hibbort moved his lips slightly, his voice becoming a bit clearer.
"Perhaps... you’re better at teaching children than I am."
Upon hearing this, Astrid instinctively paused her movements.
"I simply have more free time, so I can pay more attention."
She had originally wanted to say that Father was a good parent, but considering Hibbort likely already knew about Amalia escaping the castle, saying that now would sound like mockery.
He might be an outstanding Emperor who led the Valeria Empire out from the shadow of his predecessor, but in terms of educating his offspring, Hibbort Felsis was undeniably inadequate.
Had she not been the transmigrator, just imagining the disastrous state of the Valeria royal family in the original story sent chills down her spine: the eldest prince, lecherous and physically depleted from indulgence, lacking real competence; the second prince, a sadistic deviant who enjoyed abusing men; the third princess, arrogant and foolish, doing nothing but admiring flowers and drinking tea all day; the fourth princess, vicious and twisted, wishing both herself and the Empire to be destroyed.
It was a dark picture with no hope for the future.
"Father has done his best," said Astrid.
Losing his spouse early while bearing the weight of leading the Empire, it was truly difficult to find time for raising children. If the Empress were still alive, perhaps the two princes wouldn’t have turned out this way.
Hearing Astrid’s comforting words, Hibbort slowly exhaled, offering no response.
Time passed second by second. As Hibbort remained silent, Astrid also stayed quiet, simply sitting beside him in peaceful companionship.
"Astrid."
After an indeterminable length of time, Hibbort softly called her name.
Astrid responded immediately, her previously angled legs now straightened, her posture upright, the crisp tone of her voice blending with the faint rustle of silk stockings.
"Yes, Father?"
Then she heard Hibbort speak, his voice low.
"Tell me... what’s been happening in the imperial capital recently."
Recent events?
About Viscount Rostlin’s trial? Or Lucas actively courting cabinet members?
Hesitating for a moment, Astrid carefully chose her words.
"...Where would Father like me to begin?"
"Anywhere."
Unable to gauge Hibbort’s attitude, Astrid cautiously began with minor matters, the gossip among nobles, rising market prices, and some wandering bards arriving from the south to the City of Honor.
Hibbort listened attentively, occasionally chiming in with a few words, as if he wasn’t lying on a sickbed but sitting at his desk as he had years ago, chatting casually with young Astrid when she first entered the palace.
Seeing that Hibbort was truly listening, Astrid cleared her throat and continued talking about daily trivialities, until a crisp knock interrupted the tranquility.
"Is that Mr. Trin?"
"Reporting to Princess Astrid, it is me."
"Let him in."
With Hibbort’s permission, the man pushed the door open and approached the Emperor’s bedside, bowing slightly as if preparing to whisper. Astrid knew it was time for her to withdraw.
"Father, if you have business, I shall take my leave."
After all, she lived in the palace. If Hibbort wanted to see her, there would be opportunities.
Hibbort nodded gently and replied warmly.
"Yes, you may go."
After bowing politely, Astrid softly said, "Please take care," then closed the door, leaving the space to the two men.
............
Back in her chambers, Astrid hugged Amalia, a girl absorbed in reading, a warm hug, then sat at her desk, taking out paper and pen to ponder carefully.
According to the original timeline, Hibbort’s health shouldn’t have deteriorated this severely yet. Even though his current appearance was clearly unwell, Astrid still held onto her initial judgment.
In a world of magic, Hibbort might truly be faking a near-death condition to deceive the villains within the Empire.
Among his three publicly acknowledged children, Hibbort had only summoned her. To most people, this probably wouldn’t seem unusual, although Astrid belonged to the eldest prince’s faction, she wasn’t a direct heir to the throne. If Hibbort simply wanted to see a beloved daughter, summoning Astrid made perfect sense.
Soon enough, Lucas will hear of this and come to test the waters, trying to learn the Emperor’s true condition.
Her fingers tightening around the pen, letting the quill rest against the paper, Astrid relaxed and casually crossed her legs. Her slipper hung from her toes, her soft, smooth black-stockinged foot swaying gently with her calf, releasing a faint, alluring fragrance.
She could honestly report to Lucas what she had seen. His recent actions were all clear preparations for succession, some bordering on usurpation without him even realizing it.
Once he learned of Hibbort’s condition through his younger sister, Lucas would undoubtedly become even more brazen. Meanwhile, Alistair, feeling greater pressure, would, given his temperament, likely act desperately, determined to drag Lucas down even if he died trying.
Realizing her recent actions had drawn too much attention, Astrid frowned, her knuckles skillfully manipulated the pen.
To avoid becoming Lucas’s scapegoat, she needed to restrain herself for now, let him take the spotlight, and secretly intensify the conflict between the two princes.
Lucas had people watching Rostlin’s manor, making direct action inconvenient. But the intelligence about the eldest prince bribing cabinet members to pave his way, that could be perfectly leaked to Alistair, that mad dog.
With her next steps decided, Astrid opened a drawer, revealing a transparent crystal stone.
It was the barrier recording related to the land infectious case.
""My wife once told me that while these shoes look nice, they’re not comfortable for walking."
"She’s been walking in them for over thirty years, yet she still hasn’t gotten used to the crowd."
Recalling those words Hibbort once said, reminding his expression at the time, Astrid closed the drawer, a vague realization forming.
Perhaps Hibbort had already revealed his bottom line.
As a father, he wishes for Lucas and Alistair to coexist in harmony, for a family where father and sons were kind, and brothers united.
But as Emperor, he had no time for family. In repeated choices, he had chosen the Empire.
Having allowed the current situation to unfold, Hibbort had already silently accepted the struggle between his two sons, even knowing that whoever ascended would ruthlessly kill the other. This outcome was unavoidable. All he could do was hope to find a suitable successor from among them to save the Empire from descending into darkness.
In other words, the father within Hibbort had been completely abandoned. The last traces of tenderness might remain only for Astrid Calliste.
That was why Hibbort could accept Amalia standing at the starting line of the race, not out of forgiveness, nor belated compensation, but because his own likes and dislikes were insignificant to the continuation of the entire Valeria Empire.
When a great house is about to collapse, only the capable deserve to sit on the throne.
As long as she didn’t commit acts endangering the Valeria Imperial Family, Hibbort would likely approve of her actions. But publicly exposing Lucas’s scandals would undoubtedly damage the dignity of the royal family.
At least before Hibbort’s death, this evidence must not be revealed.
With this thought, Astrid stood up, kissed Amalia lightly, then left the bedroom and walked to the room across the hall.
Thus, everything became clear.
Hibbort wasn’t merely testing Amalia, he was also testing her. Although the nature of their tests differed.
For Amalia, it was about the essential qualities and talents needed to become Emperor. For her, it was loyal to the Imperial Family, and the political ability to guide Amalia to the evaluation point without alerting either of the princes.
Gently knocking on the door, hearing no footsteps, Astrid stood before the head maid’s room and knocked again after a moment.
"Is Princess Astrid looking for Miss Elise?"
A maid approaches, speaking softly.
"If so, I’ll go inform her right away."