Chapter 639 --639
"Host!" the System yelled as Heena casually grabbed another cup of wine from a passing servant. "How can you just leave her alone without saying anything else?! You just dropped an absolute nuclear bomb on her and then walked away!"
’Well, the bomb belongs to her,’ Heena replied internally, taking a sip. ’She should be the one to handle it.’
"Don’t you think you should at least give her the antidote?!" the System argued.
’Do you think I have a magical Doraemon pocket where I can just pull out different types of medical gadgets whenever I want?’ Heena scoffed. ’I don’t have the antidote.’
"But she is poisoned! You literally just said it!"
’Yeah, but she hasn’t been poisoned for very long,’ Heena explained calmly. ’She just needs to go home, strip off those clothes, and throw the damn perfume away. The micro-dosing will stop, and she will survive.’
"So you should tell her that!" the System insisted.
’Why? Am I her mother?’ Heena deadpanned. ’I told her she is poisoned. She can take care of the rest herself.’
"Host, sometimes I think you are way too cruel," the System sighed heavily.
’Then you think right. How about finding another partner to work with?’ Heena retorted.
The System immediately backed down. "Anyway... why didn’t you help her figure it out? Why would she willingly wear poisoned perfume? Did the Prime Minister just hand it to her?"
’No, no,’ Heena thought, her dark eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on the pristine white robes of the Prime Minister. ’The Prime Minister is far too careful to give it to her directly. But yeah, it definitely came from him.’
"So... you mean the Prime Minister gave it to someone else?" the System asked, its digital circuits processing the betrayal.
’Of course he gave it to someone else,’ Heena concluded coldly. ’And that person gave it to her.’
"But who would do something like that?"
’Her most trusted person,’ Heena replied, an entirely cynical, worldly darkness in her tone. ’A loyal maid. A close friend. A family member. In this capital, the knife always comes from the person standing closest to you.’
.
.
.
By eleven-thirty at night, the heavy dose of herbal painkillers had completely worn off. The dull throb in Heena’s skull had sharpened into a piercing ache, and her legs felt like they were made of solid lead beneath the heavy gold-embroidered gown.
The Vanguard generals and the remaining, highly traumatized civil scholars were still drinking robustly, showing absolutely no signs of stopping before dawn.
Deciding she had fulfilled her political duties for the night, Heena casually set her wine bowl down and began making her way toward the inner courtyards.
Naturally, the drunk generals noticed her early departure immediately.
"Oho!" Kael yelled across the courtyard, slamming his cup on the table. "Look at the Madam! It’s not even midnight and she is abandoning us! She simply cannot wait to unwrap her scholar!"
A chorus of booming laughter and crude, affectionate teasing erupted from the military men.
"Yeah, yeah," Heena waved her hand dismissively over her shoulder, not even bothering to defend her honor. She was far too dead tired to care. "Keep drinking. If anyone comes near my courtyard tonight, I am breaking their legs."
The generals cheered even louder, entirely unbothered by the threat.
Heena navigated the quiet, lantern-lit corridors of the inner estate, finally reaching the heavily guarded doors of her private bedchamber. She pushed the heavy mahogany doors open, stepped inside, and clicked the iron lock shut behind her.
She turned around, letting out a long, exhausted sigh—but the breath completely caught in her throat.
The bridal chamber had been meticulously decorated by the estate maids. Dozens of thick, red dragon-and-phoenix candles cast a warm, flickering golden glow across the room. Heavy red silk draped elegantly from the ceiling, and the traditional twin cups of nuptial wine rested perfectly on the mahogany table.
But Heena didn’t care about the candles or the wine. Her eyes were entirely glued to the bed.
Samuel was sitting calmly on the edge of the massive mattress.
He had already discarded the heavy, suffocating outer layers of his ceremonial wedding attire. He was currently dressed only in his crimson silk inner robes, which were tied loosely at the waist, leaving a tantalizing glimpse of his collarbone and the firm muscles of his chest. His long, dark hair had been freed from its ruby hairpin, cascading in thick, elegant waves over his broad shoulders.
The flickering red candlelight hit his sharp jawline and his brilliant golden eyes, making him look less like a mortal scholar and more like a devastating, incredibly dangerous forest spirit.
Heena just stood by the door, completely frozen.
Her brilliant, sociopathic, tactical brain entirely shut down. The throbbing pain in her head briefly muted itself, entirely replaced by an overwhelming wave of sheer, unfiltered aesthetic appreciation.
’Damn,’ Heena thought, her dark eyes slowly dragging down the length of his body. ’These ancient men with their long hair and flowing robes... they look so incredibly tasty.’
Hovering near the ceiling, the System manifested, looking down at her with intense digital judgment.
"Host," the System deadpanned, its voice completely flat. "Wipe your mouth. You are literally salivating."
Heena blinked, instinctively bringing the back of her hand up to the corner of her lips. She wasn’t actually drooling, but it was a dangerously close call.
Samuel looked up at the sound of the door locking. He took in her flushed face, the heavy gold crown still resting on her head, and the undisguised, hungry look in her dark eyes. A slow, deeply amused, and incredibly dark smirk spread across his handsome face.
"Welcome back, Wife," Samuel murmured, his deep voice practically vibrating through the quiet room. "You look tired. Shall I help you take off that heavy armor?"
Everything in the bridal chamber was going perfectly. The heavy tension, the flickering red candles, the unspoken promises—it was the flawless setup for a romantic wedding night. Heena looped her arms around Samuel’s neck, closing her eyes as a soft smile touched her lips.
Then, right above them, a distinct CLICK echoed through the rafters.
Both of their eyes snapped open. In a single, fluid motion, Samuel grabbed Heena by the waist and violently rolled them to the side of the mattress.
A split second later, the ceiling gave way. It wasn’t the entire roof, just a small, perfectly person-sized partition. A shower of wooden splinters, dust, and a falling human body crashed violently onto the red silk bedsheets.
"ASSASSIN!" Heena roared, immediately pulling her dagger as Samuel leaped up, shielding her with his broadsword drawn.
Outside, the Vanguard generals were happily drunk, but their military instincts were terrifying. Hearing the crash and the shout, twenty heavily armed, highly intoxicated generals crossed the courtyard in under three seconds.
CRASH.
Kael literally kicked the heavy mahogany doors entirely off their hinges. "PROTECT THE MADAM!"
Twenty swords were pointed at the bed. Two swords were already at the intruder’s throat.
But as the dust settled, the murderous aura in the room violently flatlined. Heena squinted through the debris, her dark eyes widening in sheer disbelief.
"You?!" Heena and Samuel both yelled at the exact same time.