The Top Omega Girlfriend of a Useless Alpha - Chapter 44

Kalinbi Palace stood at the heart of the Imperial Capital, its foundations rooted in over a thousand years of history. Every wise and foolish ruler of the Empire had emerged from its halls.

A third of the Empire’s interstellar films chronicled the palace’s storied past.

At this moment, the palace’s mistress sat in a plush chair, its cushions crafted from the soft fur of the Velvet Snow Beast, offering unparalleled comfort.

“Po Ye!”

The woman on the throne glared coldly at her kneeling daughter, her voice thick with fury.

“Look at the mess you’ve made! You tried to kill Song Yin, even though she had no power to threaten you!”

“Mother, I was wrong,” Po Ye replied, kneeling with her back ramrod straight, her face radiating defiance.

“Tell me exactly where you went wrong,” the Empress demanded, her anger beginning to subside as she waited for her daughter’s proper apology.

“I shouldn’t have left any traces when I killed her,” Po Ye stated bluntly.

“You still don’t understand what you did wrong!”

Enraged, the Empress hurled the tray of tea and pastries brought by a servant to the floor, scalding water splashing onto Po Ye’s face and the back of her hand.

Yet Po Ye’s expression remained defiant.

“Do you know what your Imperial Father asked me yesterday? He asked if the Crown Princess was being too cruel.”

“Still don’t understand where you went wrong?”

“No subject will ever accept your tyrannical ways!”

Po Ye remained silent, her fists clenched tightly. She hadn’t wanted to become the Crown Princess in the first place, but now that she’d been forced onto this path, there was no turning back.

Countless historical precedents warned her: once she stepped down from this position—even willingly—she would meet a gruesome end.

And then there was her mother, her maternal grandfather… they would all suffer the same fate.

Most importantly, Po Ye glanced sideways and saw the figure standing outside the grand hall.

Gu Xueze was dressed in her full uniform today—a navy-blue ensemble that accentuated her upright posture. Golden tassels cascaded from her shoulders, their movement complementing her long, black hair, sparking the imagination.

Especially those hands—long, slender fingers concealed beneath white gloves.

Those who followed her would meet an even more tragic end.

Therefore, she had to win this battle.

However, rather than stage a charade of sisterly affection before her Imperial Father, she might as well tear off the mask completely.

“Mother,” Po Ye called out softly.

Hearing her daughter address her so, the Empress’s heart softened. She suppressed her anger and lowered her gaze to Po Ye, who resembled her more and more—especially her maternal grandfather and uncle.

“If it weren’t for Grandfather, Imperial Father would never have chosen me. I don’t believe staging a play will make him feel any better,” Po Ye insisted stubbornly.

These words reignited the Empress’s anger.

“Reflect on your actions! You’re not leaving this room today!”

With that, she turned to leave.

Suddenly, a figure entered the hall. Gu Xueze glanced at the Empress, who was seething with frustration, and abruptly knelt to the ground with a thud.

“Your Majesty, this is not Your Highness’s fault.”

“It was my idea…”

Gu Xueze was slightly taller than Po Ye, and the navy-blue uniform cap she wore today made her appear even taller.

“Then you kneel too.”

To their dismay, the Empress’s cold gaze swept over them before she swept out of the hall, unmoved by their pleas.

Why is Po Ye so stubbornly headstrong? She takes after me and her grandfather in everything, yet in this one aspect, she’s exactly like the Emperor—with that mule-like stubbornness.

After the Empress departed, the entire hall fell into silence. Even kneeling, Po Ye maintained her regal bearing as a princess, her posture unwavering.

“Your Highness…” Gu Xueze noticed something was amiss and reached out to support Po Ye’s elbow. “Lean on me.”

Po Ye glanced at Gu Xueze, as if understanding something, and fixed her golden eyes on her. “You knelt deliberately.”

Gu Xueze’s face flushed crimson. She cleared her throat, feigning composure. “No, pleading for Your Highness is simply a subject’s duty…”

But her grip was surprisingly firm, and Po Ye leaned slightly against her. This allowed her to keep her back straight and ease some of the strain. Gu Xueze was truly a thoughtful person.

She offers a pillow when I want to sleep. Such a considerate Alpha is rare indeed.

It’s just a pity she became my lover.

She’ll never be able to live in the light.

With only a day remaining until Song Feiyu’s mother’s flight arrived at the Empire’s largest docking station, Gu Yi finally had the freshest ingredients delivered.

To be honest, Song Feiyu had spent most of her life in the Fleet, where meals were typically practical: beef and potatoes, and easily preserved greens.

She had never even seen the ingredients Gu Yi had ordered, making her feel like a complete country bumpkin.

“Song Feiyu,” Gu Yi said, gazing at the dazzling array of ingredients, “do you think… cooking something yourself is the best way to express your feelings?”

Song Feiyu didn’t object. She believed in the value of trying new things, so she rolled up her sleeves, revealing her strong arms.

“Then I’ll help you.”

Song Feiyu never voiced her objections; Gu Yi could do whatever she pleased.

She carefully picked through the tender green leaves, watching Gu Yi bustle around the kitchen.

Gu Yi’s culinary skills were limited. She nearly sliced her hand several times, and Song Feiyu had to bite back a laugh at her clumsy attempts.

After working for ages, Gu Yi finally managed to produce a single dish, though its appearance left much to be desired.

It looked far worse than when it had first gone into the pan. The once-tender green leaves were now scorched around the edges, clearly overcooked.

“This probably doesn’t taste very good, does it?”

Gu Yi frowned. Even the cheapest restaurants in the Empire wouldn’t be able to sell something like this.

“This is your first attempt, and it’s not bad,” Song Feiyu said, taking the plate. She picked up a leaf with her chopsticks and tasted it.

“How is it?” Gu Yi asked, her eyes full of anticipation. Song Feiyu chewed twice, then gave a thumbs-up, her expression like a winter lamb finding a patch of tender green grass—utterly delighted.

“Not bad,” Song Feiyu nodded. Seeing her savor the dish so enthusiastically, Gu Yi’s curiosity was piqued. She snatched the chopsticks from Song Feiyu’s hand and, before the other woman could react, popped a leaf into her mouth.

“Ugh, so bitter!” Gu Yi’s delicate brows furrowed deeply. The taste was no different from chewing raw bitter melon—and the kind that was half-cooked and slightly burnt at that.

“You lied…” Gu Yi spat it out immediately and rinsed her mouth with tap water.

“I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings, especially after you spent so long cooking,” Song Feiyu said, regretting not stopping her earlier.

“Never mind. Let’s leave the professional stuff to the professionals,” Gu Yi said after a moment’s thought, deciding to give up on her culinary ambitions.