Chapter 575: Chapter-575
Samuel blinked, looking down at the fortune. "What is this?"
"Your allowance," Heena replied smoothly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You earned it tonight. Buy yourself all the neon pink silk your heart desires."
Samuel stared at the gold, and then threw his head back and laughed—a genuine, unrestrained sound that filled the small space of the carriage. He picked up the pouch, weighing it in his hand, his dark eyes sparkling with absolute delight.
"You are far too generous, Wife," Samuel smiled, leaning in close. "I suppose I will just have to find a way to repay you for this."
Heena just scoffed, turning her head to look out the window as the carriage rolled through the quiet, moonlit streets of the capital. The banquet was over, but the war for the empire had only just begun.
The chaotic scramble of the courtyard was slowly dying down as the Vanguard carriages were brought forward. The cold night air nipped at Heena’s cheeks, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of the banquet hall.
Just as Heena stepped toward the carriage doors, a sharp, urgent voice called out from the shadows of the jade pillars.
"My Lady!"
Heena paused. She slowly turned around, her champagne robes sweeping the cobblestones. Samuel stopped right beside her, his hand casually resting on the carriage door, his dark eyes instantly narrowing at the interruption.
A young palace maid hurried toward them, her head bowed low. She stopped a few paces away, practically trembling.
"My Lady," the servant girl breathed out, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. "The Empress Dowager has summoned you."
Heena raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. The Empress Dowager had not even been present at the banquet tonight; she was known to strictly isolate herself in her own quarters.
"The Empress Dowager?" Heena asked, her voice completely smooth. "Why?"
The servant quickly shook her head, clutching her hands together. "I... I do not know, My Lady. But Her Grace has instructed me to bring you to meet her. In the Cold Palace."
Heena froze.
The Cold Palace.
For anyone who had ever read a novel, watched a drama, or known even a sliver of imperial history, the Cold Palace was an absolute, undisputed death flag. It was the desolate, crumbling corner of the Forbidden Inner City where favored women went to be forgotten, and where thrown-away concubines were sent to rot. It was a place of madness, starvation, and silent political murders.
To summon the highest-ranking female general of the empire to such a desolate, cursed place in the middle of the night was not just unusual—it was an open threat.
Heena remained perfectly composed. She looked at the trembling girl and offered a short, curt nod. "Understood. You may leave. I know the way, I will be there shortly."
"No!" the servant blurted out, her voice suddenly spiking with aggressive urgency. She immediately flinched, realizing her lack of manners, but stubbornly held her ground. "I... I mean, I have strict orders, My Lady. I must guide you there personally."
Heena’s fox-like eyes darkened. A servant daring to aggressively command a Vanguard General?
It was a trap. A blatant, poorly disguised, incredibly dangerous trap.
Heena slowly turned her head to look at Samuel. The ’foolish scholar’ mask had completely slipped from his face. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were completely devoid of warmth, calculating the exact distance between his hidden throwing knives and the servant’s throat.
Heena offered him a soft, reassuring smile. "You go back."
"No," Samuel replied instantly, his voice dropping into that freezing, lethal baritone. "I will wait for you right here."
"No," Heena repeated, her voice calm but carrying the absolute, unyielding authority of a military commander. "You go back. Grandma is coming tomorrow. The estate is a mess. You need to prepare everything and ensure the household is secure."
It was a coded dismissal. Go back. Secure our territory. I can handle this.
Samuel stared at her, thoroughly wanting to reject the order again. He hated the idea of her walking into the dark of the palace alone. But seeing the firm, resolute glint in her eyes, he knew she had already made up her mind. Heena did not run from traps; she dismantled them.
Samuel let out a long, heavy sigh. The coldness in his eyes melted away, replaced by a genuine, lingering concern.
He took a step closer, raising his hand. Gently, his long fingers brushed against her cold cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It was a rare, unguarded gesture that had absolutely nothing to do with their fake marriage.
"Okay," Samuel murmured softly. "Take care of yourself, Heena."
He didn’t wait for her reply. He pulled his hand back, turned around gracefully, and stepped into the carriage. The driver immediately cracked the whip, and the heavy Vanguard transport rolled away into the night, leaving Heena alone with the servant.
As soon as the carriage disappeared through the palace gates, a familiar digital pop sounded by Heena’s boots.
The glowing blue lion materialized, its fur standing completely on end, pacing frantically in tight circles.
"Host! Host!" the System shrieked in her mind, completely in a ruckus. "Are you crazy?! The servant is aggressively forcing you to follow her! It is a trap! Someone is deliberately trying to trap you in the Cold Palace!"
Heena didn’t bat an eye. She adjusted her heavy fur cloak and gestured for the trembling servant to lead the way.
’Of course I know it’s a trap,’ Heena replied in her mind, her internal voice dripping with absolute boredom.
The lion stopped pacing, staring up at her with wide, pixelated eyes. "So why on earth are we going?!"
A slow, wicked smirk finally curved Heena’s glossy red lips as she stepped into the dark, lantern-lit corridors of the inner palace.
’Because,’ Heena scoffed internally, ’if we do not go, how would we get to see the drama?’
The System let out a loud, highly expressive groan, slapping both of its glowing paws over its face in sheer exasperation.
"Host..." the lion whined pitifully. "Are we going there to see the drama... or are you planning to become the drama?"
.
.
.
The small, unassuming palace carriage rattled softly as it rolled over the uneven cobblestones of the inner pathways. Sitting in the dim interior, Heena felt a slight, pulsing annoyance twitch in her eyebrow. If they wanted to trap her, did they really need to drag her all the way out to the edge of the palace grounds? Couldn’t they have just executed their little ambush in one of the main courtyards?
Well, whatever.
After a tedious twenty-minute ride, the carriage finally slowed. But they hadn’t taken the main roads. The servant had guided the driver strictly through the back doors, passing deep into the forbidden harem gates—an entirely abandoned sector of the Forbidden Inner City. Looking out the small window, Heena noted the absolute, suffocating silence. It was nighttime, yes, which explained the lack of ambient chatter, but there was zero semblance of life. There were no patrolling guards, no passing maids, not even a stray lantern lit along the crumbling walls.
Seeing this, Heena just raised her eyebrows, a cynical smirk pulling at her lips. ’Wow. They aren’t even trying to imitate a normal royal summons, huh?’
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