Does the pink-haired, blue-eyed Holy Knight ever dream of the noble and elegant silver-haired regent princess in maid attire?
At least in Lyra's dreams, such a scene had never appeared, or rather, the real she simply relied on the imagination to construct such a dream.
Astrid, the princess who always wore a luxurious gown, her legs sheathed in delicate black thigh-highs and feet stepping in midnight-colored stilettos, whose elegance and status were both undeniably regal, how could she possibly wear the uniform of a servant?
It must be that her eyes were still blurry from waking. She hadn't seen clearly.
Believing she'd woken up improperly, Lyra closed her eyes again, gently tugging the blanket over her lashes with her fingers. Her smooth, bare calves shifted slightly to the right but didn't touch the soft skin of the person beside her, nor was there any lingering warmth from the sheets.
Astrid had already gotten up. Then what she'd seen earlier… Was it real?
