Chapter 539: Chapter-539
The Prime Minister recovered his flawless composure in a fraction of a second, his dark, bottomless eyes sweeping over her dark leather riding clothes.
"Lady Seera," the Prime Minister murmured, taking a slow, graceful step forward. "I must say, your performance in the Great Hall today was... entirely unexpected. The civil court rarely gets to witness such sharp, poetic discipline from the military faction."
He stopped just a few feet away, the faint, crisp scent of expensive Longjing tea and fresh ink drifting off his robes.
"And now, we are all eagerly anticipating tomorrow night’s Imperial Banquet," he continued, his voice dropping into a soft, conspiratorial tone that actively made the hair on the back of Heena’s neck stand up. "To finally meet the extraordinary man who managed to capture the heart of the untouchable Vanguard Madam... it will truly be the highlight of the season."
Heena met his gaze, maintaining a perfectly polite, thoroughly empty smile.
"And here I thought the esteemed Prime Minister stopped me because he actually had something important to say," Heena replied, her tone light but carrying a razor-sharp edge.
The Prime Minister’s smile tightened slightly. "My Lady, are you not being a bit too rude?"
Heena merely tilted her head, her fox-like eyes wide with mock innocence. "But isn’t that exactly what the civil court expects from a military family? Brash, uncultured, and completely straightforward? I don’t think I am doing anything wrong. I am simply playing the part you scholars wrote for me."
He looked at her, his dark, bottomless eyes shedding a fraction of their feigned warmth.
"You should speak less, Lady Seera," the Prime Minister advised, his voice dropping into a smooth, patronizing cadence. "A noble lady looks her absolute best when she speaks less. Holding one’s tongue can be... quite a useful survival skill in the capital."
Heena’s soft smile didn’t waver, but the temperature in the air between them instantly plummeted.
"Aiya, thank you so much for the free lesson, Prime Minister," Heena sighed dramatically. "But I have a different philosophy. If someone does not like hearing another person speak, they should simply shut their own ears."
She smoothed a crease from her dark leather sleeve, her demeanor perfectly calm.
"I am the new acting owner of the Marcuset family," Heena stated, her voice ringing with absolute, unyielding authority. "I really do not think I need to control my tongue just because I want to please the delicate sensibilities of some man."
The Prime Minister’s gaze turned calculating. "My Lady, you are not the owner right now. You are merely the appointed heir. It is considered quite a severe disrespect to call yourself the master of the house when the original master—your grandfather—is still alive and breathing."
Heena chuckled softly, shaking her head.
"Oh, really?" Heena mused, looking directly into his eyes. "Well, if my memory serves me correctly, Prime Minister... your own father is still very much alive. Yet, you currently hold the title and power of the Duke of your estate. Am I right? Or does the civil court have a different dictionary for the word ’hypocrisy’?"
The Prime Minister’s jaw visibly tightened. The playful, amused scholar act was completely gone.
"I had hoped," he said, his voice clipped and cold, "that we could converse calmly, instead of turning this into a petty argument. But it seems Lady Seera truly does not think much of me."
Heena’s smile returned, softer and vastly more dangerous this time.
"Oh, no, no," Heena apologized smoothly. "I am so truly sorry if I made you feel that way. I was actually just a bit shocked."
As the Prime Minister opened his mouth to graciously accept her fake apology, Heena ruthlessly cut him off.
"I was just shocked," Heena continued, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper, "that you suddenly dislike women with sharp tongues. After all... your previous wife was famous for being incredibly soft-spoken, wasn’t she?"
The Prime Minister froze.
The blood instantly drained from his handsome face, replaced by a dark, terrifying surge of pure anger. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides that the expensive silk of his robes groaned under the strain. He glared at her with unadulterated disgust.
"Lady Seera," he hissed, the venom fully exposed. "Do not cross the line."
Heena looked at him calmly. This time, her smile completely vanished, leaving behind the cold, ruthless face of a Vanguard commander.
"And I think you should be careful not to overstep yours, Prime Minister," Heena warned, stepping slightly closer so only he could hear her. "I might be the newly appointed heir, but I was not born yesterday. I was raised in the Marcuset family, right here in the heart of this treacherous capital. It might sound unpleasant to your ears, but let me make one thing perfectly clear: the information network you possess might be vast... but mine is certainly not lacking."
She turned around, her heavy leather boots pivoting smoothly on the jade tiles. She paused, throwing one final, devastating glance over her shoulder.
"Oh, and please don’t worry about my fiancé tomorrow night," Heena added, her voice echoing lightly across the terrace. "You should worry about yourself. I heard your father is quite ill. You really should visit him more often. After all... I hear the mountain temple where you keep him locked away gets terribly cold this time of year."
With that, she swept down the grand staircase, leaving the Prime Minister standing frozen on the terrace, his fists trembling with suppressed rage.
As soon as they were completely out of earshot, safely walking down the long, guarded avenues toward the Marcuset carriage, the air shimmered. The blue holographic lion materialized by her shoulder, its pixelated face twisted in absolute confusion.
[Host! Why are you so unbelievably angry?!] the System asked, hovering frantically in front of her. [I have never seen you speak that rudely to a high-ranking minister entirely unprovoked! You basically just declared war on the Prime Minister!]
Heena scoffed, climbing into the heavy wooden carriage and slamming the door shut behind her.
"That bastard is absolute, irredeemable trash," Heena spat, ripping off her leather gloves and throwing them onto the velvet seat opposite her.
The System tilted its holographic head, deeply perplexed.
[Is there something wrong in his data files? I do not understand. My records say he is a brilliant scholar and a beloved official!]
"Your records only read the official imperial documents," Heena sneered, pouring herself a cup of cold water from the carriage’s small table.
She took a slow sip, her eyes burning with cold disgust.
"Yesterday night, before all this morning newspaper nonsense even started, I had my elite shadow guards do a little independent research on our so-called ’perfect’ Prime Minister. Do you know what they found?"
The System shook its head.
"He is currently on his third wife," Heena revealed, her voice dripping with pure contempt. "And, comically enough, his first two wives died one directly after the other under highly mysterious circumstances. Every single time that smiling viper brought a shiny new woman into his estate to elevate his political status, the previous wife conveniently dropped dead of a ’sudden illness’ just weeks before."
She slammed her cup down onto the wooden table.
"He acts like a noble, elegant scholar who respects the law," Heena growled. "But he is just a ruthless serial killer wearing green silk. If he thinks he can try to intimidate me, he is severely underestimating who he is dealing with."
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter