Chapter 500: Chapter-500
Naturally, the estate servants and passing shadow guards witnessed the entire spectacle. Several young maids gasped, covering their mouths with their hands as they practically swooned at the romantic sight of the handsome husband effortlessly carrying the terrifying young Madam. The guards simply stared in silent shock, entirely unsure of how to process such a blatant display of vulnerability from their ruthless commander.
"See?" Samuel murmured smoothly, looking perfectly at ease under the collective stares of the household. "They are thoroughly enjoying it."
Heena looked at his smug face, her expression turning terrifyingly calm. "Have you completely lost your mind? Do you actively want me to slap you across the face just to make you put me down?"
Samuel just shrugged again, completely immune to her murderous aura. "You are more than welcome to slap me, Wife. But you are completely exhausted. If I put you down now and you start walking, you are going to collapse again."
He leaned in slightly, his dark eyes sparkling with quiet, calculated amusement. "And if you collapse right in the middle of the hallway, people are just going to say that the fearsome new heiress of the empire’s strongest military family cannot even walk properly. Now, *that* would truly be bad for your reputation."
Heena stared into Samuel’s dark, entirely unapologetic eyes. Her mind rapidly calculated the strategic variables of the situation.
Option one: She could physically struggle, slap him, force him to put her down, and then attempt to walk the rest of the way to her chambers with her legs trembling like jelly, risking a highly public collapse that would shatter the Vanguard’s image of absolute invincibility.
Option two: She could swallow her pride, let the annoying man act as her personal, free transit system, and conserve whatever pathetic shreds of energy her failing body had left.
"Fine," Heena muttered, letting her head fall back against his shoulder with a heavy, defeated sigh. "But if you drop me, I am taking your head."
"A fair trade," Samuel replied smoothly, entirely unbothered by the death threat.
Heena closed her eyes, refusing to look at the blushing maids or the bewildered guards as they navigated the winding corridors of the massive estate. Despite her intense irritation, she couldn’t deny that Samuel’s chest was ridiculously comfortable. His heartbeat was a steady, rhythmic thrum against her arm, and his body heat seeped through her wine-colored silk robes, chasing away the cold sweat that had gathered on her skin.
He moved with a silent, predatory grace that betrayed his supposed status as a useless political hostage. He didn’t jostle her once.
When they finally reached her private chambers, Samuel didn’t bother calling for a maid to open the door. He simply kicked the heavy oak door open with one booted foot, carried her inside, and let it swing shut behind them, plunging the room into quiet privacy.
He walked over to the massive, canopy bed and gently deposited her onto the thick silk blankets.
Heena immediately tried to scramble backward, putting distance between them, but her muscles screamed in protest. She ended up just slumping against the headboard, glaring at him as she tried to catch her breath.
Instead of backing away, Samuel calmly knelt at the edge of the bed. He reached out and grasped her left ankle.
"What are you doing now?!" Heena snapped, instinctively trying to kick him.
Samuel easily caught her boot, his grip firm but completely gentle. "Taking off your boots, Wife. You can hardly sleep in heavy leather."
"I have maids for that!"
"Your maids are terrified of you," Samuel pointed out reasonably, skillfully unlacing the thick leather ties. "Besides, I am already here. Try not to kick me in the face, would you? I am quite fond of my nose."
Heena watched in stunned silence as the man who was supposed to be a rival noble’s pawn meticulously removed her boots, setting them neatly aside. There was no subservience in his actions. He did it with the calm, self-assured confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was and didn’t care about the optics of serving his wife.
He stood up, looking down at her pale, exhausted face. He reached out, stopping just an inch from her cheek, before letting his hand drop.
"Rest, Heena," Samuel said, his voice dropping its teasing lilt, replaced by something dangerously soft. "The empire will still be here to terrorize tomorrow."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
### ’’The Ticking Clock’’
The moment the latch clicked into place, the digital lion materialized on the edge of the bed.
’[Host, your heart rate is currently stabilizing,]’ the System noted, tilting its head. ’[Though it did spike slightly when he took your boots off. Are you experiencing a fever?]’
"I am experiencing an intense desire to throttle you," Heena mumbled, rubbing her pounding temples. "Shut up and let me think."
’[About the Prince?]’
"No. About the South," Heena replied, forcing herself to sit up slightly. She pulled a heavy blanket over her legs. "The House of Vane. If I am going to adopt a successor, I need to move quickly. The tumor is growing. The painkillers are already losing their efficacy. If I wait too long, I will be too weak to train whoever I bring back."
’[The Emperor will absolutely lose his mind if you adopt someone outside the Marcuset bloodline,]’ the System warned, projecting a holographic chart of the Imperial Court’s political factions. ’[He wants the Vanguard title to default to the Crown when you die. If you pull a random cousin from the South and make them the heir, he might accuse you of treason.]’
"Let him," Heena sneered, her eyes turning cold and calculating. "The Vanguard commands three hundred thousand heavy cavalry troops at the northern border. The Emperor’s entire royal guard barely numbers fifty thousand. He relies on my family to keep the barbarian hordes from burning his palace to the ground. He can scream all he wants, but he wouldn’t dare raise a blade against me."
She leaned her head back against the carved wood, staring up at the silk canopy.
"I need to break the Ninth Prince as quickly as possible to establish my authority in the capital. Once the court is terrified of me, I will request a leave of absence to visit the southern province. We leave in two weeks."
’[Understood, Host,]’ the System said, powering down its hologram. ’[But for now, you need to sleep. Your physical avatar is at its absolute limit.]’
Heena didn’t argue. She closed her eyes, letting the darkness pull her under, fully aware that her time was running out.
.
.
.
Dawn of the Second Day...
The next morning, the sun had barely crested the horizon, casting a pale, cold light over the capital.
Heena stepped out of her luxury carriage exactly three steps away from the Emperor’s pavilion. She was dressed in lightweight, jet-black training robes tailored for absolute mobility, her long dark hair tied up in a high, strict ponytail. Her steel sword hung heavily at her waist.
The lingering ache in her skull was suppressed by a fresh, highly concentrated dose of painkillers and a breakfast of violently spicy noodles that had left her throat pleasantly burning.
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