Chapter 560: Chapter-560
The civil officials hid their scoffs behind their silk fans, rolling their eyes at the Southern fool.
But then, Heena stepped out.
The moment the lantern light hit her champagne-colored robes, a collective, sharp gasp echoed across the jade terrace.
The civil court ladies, dressed in their bright pinks, greens, and blues, stared in absolute horror. The color was devastatingly close to Imperial Gold. In this deeply traditional society, wearing such a shade was an act of pure, unadulterated arrogance. It was a silent, visual statement that the Vanguard answered to no one.
With her sharp, perfectly drawn eyeliner, her glossy red lips, and the cold, unyielding aura of a battlefield commander, Heena looked like a goddess of war descending upon a flock of trembling pigeons.
"How utterly shameless," one of the minister’s wives whispered loudly behind her fan. "Has the military completely forgotten their place?"
Heena completely ignored them. She walked up the jade steps, her posture flawless, the heavy black fur of her cloak sweeping behind her.
"Ah, the Vanguard Madam."
A smooth, melodic voice cut through the whispers.
Standing near the massive doors of the Great Hall was the Prime Minister. He was dressed flawlessly in pure white silk robes embroidered with silver cranes, looking like the absolute pinnacle of scholarly grace and virtue.
Standing rigidly beside him, her arm linked through his, was the Third Wife.
She was dressed in her heavy, dark blue robes. Her face was painted perfectly, hiding the horrific bruises beneath layers of thick powder. Her hair was immaculate. But when Heena looked closely, she could see the slight, unnatural stiffness in the young woman’s spine, the way her breathing was too shallow, and the completely dead, vacant stare in her dark eyes.
The Prime Minister smiled warmly at Heena, though his dark, bottomless eyes gleamed with a sickening, sadistic anticipation. He was looking at her like a hunter looks at a magnificent deer walking right into a bear trap.
"Madam Seera," the Prime Minister greeted, bowing slightly. "What a... bold choice of color for tonight. I see your family is as fearless as ever."
Heena stopped on the steps, standing slightly above him. She looked down at his perfect, smiling face, knowing exactly what kind of monster lurked beneath the skin, and knowing exactly what he had planned for her tonight.
"Prime Minister," Heena replied, her voice smooth and dripping with deadly, polite venom. "I find that fortune favors the bold. I truly hope tonight’s banquet is exactly as unforgettable as you planned it to be."
The Prime Minister’s smile widened, entirely confident in his absolute victory. "Oh, I promise you, Madam. It will be a night the capital will remember for generations."
The Prime Minister’s gaze shifted from Heena to the tall man standing casually by her side. A polite, patronizing smile touched his lips.
"And this," the Prime Minister said smoothly, "must be your fiancé."
Samuel looked at him, an incredibly soft, utterly unbothered smile on his handsome face. "Ah, you are the Prime Minister, huh? Greetings, Prime Minister."
And then, Samuel did absolutely nothing.
He didn’t bow. He didn’t clasp his hands. He barely even dipped his chin. In a highly structured imperial society where bowing to a senior civil official was an absolute legal requirement for a commoner, Samuel just stood there and looked at the Prime Minister with a calm, lazy expression that practically screamed: ’What are you going to do about it?’
The Prime Minister’s smile tightened into a brittle line. His dark eyes flicked to Heena, waiting for the Vanguard Madam to reprimand her uneducated dog and force him to bow. After all, an engagement in this era meant Samuel was officially half a member of her family. Punishing Samuel meant challenging Heena’s authority directly.
Naturally, Heena did not give a single damn. She didn’t even look at Samuel. She let him act as arrogant as he pleased.
Instead, Heena’s sharp eyes drifted entirely to the woman standing rigidly beside the Prime Minister.
The Third Wife was perfectly made up. The thick layer of foundation on her face was completely flawless, hiding every single bruise and tear track. But beneath the dark blue silk and the heavy gold hairpins, she looked exactly like a wooden doll—utterly, horrifyingly lifeless.
As Heena watched her, the Third Wife slowly raised her head. Their eyes met.
For a fraction of a second, the vacant, dead stare in the young girl’s eyes broke. Something completely raw flickered in those dark depths—a silent, desperate acknowledgment. The Third Wife looked at the fiercely independent Vanguard Madam, offered a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, and gave a slow, proper bow.
Heena’s expression softened just a fraction. She looked at the broken girl and returned a gentle, respectful nod.
Pop.
The glowing blue lion materialized right beside Heena’s boots, completely invisible to the rest of the court.
"What happened to her, Host?" the System whispered, its glowing ears drooping as it looked at the Third Wife. "She... she does not look that well."
Heena didn’t change her expression. ’It’s nothing,’ she replied mentally, cutting the conversation short.
The System shook its mane and looked around the courtyard at the other civil officials arriving. "Wow, this woman is really gorgeous, huh? But she looks like a child... Wait."
The lion sat back on its haunches, its digital eyes widening in horror as it scanned the crowd. "Of course. Why do all of the noblemen’s wives look like children?! Like, some are sixteen, eighteen, twenty! What is this age demographic?!"
Heena let out a silent, cynical sigh. ’Because this is the ancient era, you damn idiot,’ she communicated back to the glowing lion. ’As long as a woman gets her first moon cycle, she is considered ready to marry in this society. They are traded like political cattle before they even finish growing.’
Ignoring the seething Prime Minister, Heena turned around, and she and Samuel walked side-by-side through the massive, towering red doors of the Great Hall.
The interior of the hall was a blinding display of imperial wealth. Pillars carved from solid jade stretched up to a ceiling painted with golden dragons. Hundreds of officials were already taking their seats at low wooden tables, surrounded by beautiful silk tapestries and the finest porcelain.
Samuel let out a soft sigh, looking up at the golden ceiling. "Huh. It is really a beautiful place."
Heena glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "What? Do you actually like it?"
Samuel smiled—a sharp, cold expression that didn’t reach his eyes. "Yeah. It looks exactly like a suffocating cage."
A genuine, wicked smile flashed across Heena’s face for a split second before she ruthlessly suppressed it. She looked straight ahead, maintaining her icy Vanguard persona.
"Do you not think you should refrain from disrespecting the Imperial Court out loud?" she murmured softly.
Samuel tilted his head, looking down at her from the corner of his eye. The dangerous, teasing light in his gaze was meant entirely for her.
"Well," Samuel whispered back smoothly, "I am going to be the husband of my incredibly lovely wife. I should adopt some proper ways of carrying myself, no? I shouldn’t lower myself too much by acting like I am impressed by a shiny birdcage."
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