Chapter 587: Chapter-587
"Oh, so you want me to kill your husband?" Heena looked at her, tilting her head slightly. Her gaze was piercing, analytical, and utterly devoid of pity. "Then you will become a widow. And then what? Do you genuinely think your in-laws or this ancient society would just let you live in peace with a bag of stolen silver? A widow of a suddenly murdered Prime Minister is either sent to rot in a desolate temple, buried alive in his tomb, or tortured to death by his family to appease his spirit. Are you so pitifully stupid or something?"
Hovering near the ceiling, the glowing blue lion gasped.
"Host!" the System whined, dropping down to hover near her shoulder. "At least have a shame! This woman saved you!"
’Shut up with that same word before I kill you myself,’ Heena snapped telepathically, her patience for the digital lion’s moral compass completely exhausted.
"But Host," the System argued, crossing its pixelated arms stubbornly. "Do you not think that he is torturing her? So she should just divorce! It’s the best way! A clean legal break!"
’You keep an eye out,’ Heena commanded ruthlessly. ’What are you doing listening to the women talking? Watch the perimeter.’
The System let out a loud, aggrieved grumble. Muttering digital curses under its breath, it spun around and floated toward the broken window to make sure no assassins were approaching the courtyard. But even as it stared out into the dark, its glowing blue ears were comically perked up, swiveling completely backward, entirely ready to listen to the rest of the gossip.
The Third Wife stared at Heena, her chest heaving as the harsh reality of her societal standing crashed down on her.
"How can you say that?" the Third Wife’s voice cracked, tears of sheer frustration spilling over her bruised cheeks. "Do you want me to suffer what I am suffering even now? If there is no escape... it would be better that I die and drag him down together with me!"
Heena stopped adjusting her cuffs. She looked down at the hysterical woman and scoffed, a short, dark, entirely condescending sound.
"So, you mean that you would rather die with him, making absolutely sure that he drags you straight to hell too?" Heena asked, shaking her head as if looking at a disappointed recruit. "Are you crazy or what? Why would you share a grave with the man who ruined your life?"
The Third Wife gripped her wet, tangled hair, completely at the end of her rope. The absolute desperation tore through her throat.
"So what should I do?!" she shouted, her voice breaking into a ragged sob.
Heena looked at her calmly, entirely undisturbed by the woman’s emotional breakdown. She took a slow step forward, looking down with the terrifying, calculating eyes of a military strategist who had just found the perfect angle of attack.
"What else?" Heena said smoothly, her voice dropping into a deadly, instructive cadence. "Just make him be neither dead nor alive."
The Third Wife froze, her breath hitching in her throat. Her hands slowly lowered from her hair.
"Once you have a child," Heena continued, pacing slowly around the trembling woman, "and once your so-called husband is a paralyzed, bedridden vegetable who is neither alive nor dead, do you think your mother-in-law will have the guts to kick you out? You will be the untouchable mother of the Prime Minister’s sole heir, and the devoted, self-sacrificing wife caring for her crippled son."
Heena stopped, looking down at the Third Wife with a brilliant, demonic smile that would have made the devil himself take a step back.
"Then," Heena concluded softly, the sheer venom of the plan hanging heavily in the freezing air, "you slowly poison your mother-in-law, take absolute control of the entire estate, and let her die peacefully."
The Third Wife stared at the Vanguard General, her jaw hanging entirely slack. Her brain completely flatlined as she processed the sheer, unadulterated villainy of the strategy laid out before her.
"Excuse me?"
The Third Wife’s initial shock violently morphed into an explosion of frustrated anger.
"Do you think I haven’t thought about it?!" she burst out, her voice a ragged, desperate hiss as she gripped the edges of her wet robes. "The child, the inheritance, all of it! But do you think it is easy? Do you think I can actually do something like that?!"
Heena sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose and vigorously rubbing her throbbing temples. The lingering effects of the neurotoxin were giving her a massive headache, and this woman’s constant pivoting between terror and hysteria was not helping.
"First of all," Heena snapped, her voice dropping into a freezing, authoritative reprimand. "A woman is never weak. So shut up and listen."
The Third Wife’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click.
"Making your husband suffer a fate worse than death, and sending your miserable mother-in-law to meet the God of Death... how can that possibly be hard?" Heena looked at her like she was explaining basic arithmetic to a toddler. "Listen. I am not a hired assassin. I am not going to just kill your husband for you so you can be executed as a widow. But if you want my help to survive and take over his estate? That, I can help you with."
The Third Wife swallowed hard, trying to process the sheer magnitude of the treason being casually proposed. "And... and what about the child? I cannot just pluck an heir from the sky, right? And I absolutely refuse to have that bastard’s child!"
Heena’s face twisted into an expression of profound, unfiltered disgust.
"Why the heck would you ever have the child of a bastard like him?" Heena scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "If you actually got pregnant by that man, I would probably kill the child myself just to spare the world."
It was clearly a joke—a very dark, very Vanguard-style joke—but given the fact that Heena was standing in a room where she had just casually dissolved three human beings into sludge, the humor did not quite land.
The Third Wife turned a shade paler. "S-So what should I do?"
"First things first," Heena said, casually rolling down her damp sleeves. "Let’s focus on sending your dear husband into a half-coffin. We can figure out the heir later."
Heena turned her head, looking past the Third Wife toward the broken wooden window. The moonlight outside had shifted significantly since she first arrived at the Cold Palace.
"How much time has passed since I collapsed in the courtyard?" Heena asked sharply.
The Third Wife blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden change in topic. "Well... it has already been more than an hour."
Heena completely froze. Her fox-like eyes went wide.
"Damn," Heena cursed aloud.
The Third Wife physically jumped, her eyes going round with absolute shock. She stared at the Vanguard General as if Heena had just sprouted a second head. She had never, in her entire life, heard a high-ranking noble lady casually use profanity.
"E-Excuse me?" the Third Wife stammered, scandalized.
"Excuse you," Heena muttered, ignoring the woman’s shock as her mind raced.
She had purposefully come to the inner palace tonight without her usual heavy escort of Vanguard knights and guards. Not because she was arrogant, but simply because she had wanted to play along with the trap and see some drama.
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