Chapter 120: Chapter-120

They exchanged confused glances.

“So I had an idea,” Heena continued, leaning back in her chair. “How about I arrange marriages between each of you and Lady Seraphina? I’m sure she’d be thrilled. You all seem quite concerned about her welfare.”

Dead silence.

All five of them stared at her like she’d just suggested they jump off a cliff.

Then Adrian spoke, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. He gritted his teeth as he said, “Your Majesty, do you think we are such disgusting people that even after being married to you, we would think about another woman?”

Heena looked at him.

Then she laughed.

Not a polite laugh. Not a diplomatic laugh. A genuine, incredulous laugh that echoed through the office.

“Aren’t you?” she asked, voice dripping with amusement and contempt.

Adrian’s face flushed red. “Your Majesty—”

“No, seriously,” Heena interrupted, leaning forward. “Are you actually trying to claim that you *haven’t* been thinking about Seraphina? That you five haven’t been running to her defense at every opportunity? Letting her into the palace without permission? Questioning my decisions whenever they affect her?”

She looked at each of them in turn.

“Kieran, you nearly committed treason by allowing her into my private residence in the middle of the night. Adrian, you’ve been ’accidentally’ running into her at social events for months. Damien, your information network somehow always knows where she is and what she’s doing. Raphael, you’ve been counseling her privately at the temple. And Lucian—”

She paused, looking at him.

“Actually, I have no idea what you’ve been doing because you’re never around. But I’m sure if Seraphina needed something, you’d materialize out of thin air to provide it.”

Lucian’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes.

“So please,” Heena said, voice turning sharp, “don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you’re all faithful, devoted husbands who never even *glance* at other women. We both know that’s a lie.”

Kieran stepped forward, jaw tight. “Your Majesty, we have never—”

“Never what?” Heena cut him off. “Never touched her? Never kissed her? Never fucked her?”

The crude language made several of them flinch.

“Congratulations,” Heena said dryly. “You’ve maintained the absolute bare minimum standard of not physically cheating. Would you like a medal?”

“Your Majesty,” Raphael said, his usual serene tone strained, “we have been *married* to you for three years. In that time, none of us have broken our vows—”

“You haven’t *consummated* your vows,” Heena interrupted. “There’s a difference.”

That shut him up.

Heena stood slowly, and all five of them tensed instinctively.

“Let me be very clear about something,” she said, walking around her desk to stand in front of them. “I don’t care if you’re in love with Seraphina. I don’t care if you dream about her every night. I don’t care if you write her poetry or pine after her like lovesick teenagers.”

She met each of their eyes.

“What I care about is that you remember your *position*. You are imperial consorts. Your first duty is to this throne. Your first loyalty is to this empire. And right now, every single one of you has been putting a minor noble’s daughter above your own Empress.”

“That’s not—” Adrian started.

“It is *exactly* that,” Heena said coldly. “You let her into my private quarters without permission. You question my authority when I discipline her. You undermine my decisions when they inconvenience her. You treat her like she’s more important than me.”

(Here, Heena’s “my quarters” refers to the consorts’ palaces, as she is literally the ruler of this empire. She is their only wife, and in that sense, the property or assets of these so-called consorts also belong to her.)

She crossed her arms.

“So I’m giving you an option,” she said. “If you love her so much, if she’s really that important to you, then *marry her*. I’ll arrange it. I’ll even pay for the ceremonies. You can have her as a secondary wife, a concubine, whatever you want.”

The silence was deafening.

“Your Majesty,” Kieran said slowly, “we don’t want—”

“Then what DO you want?” Heena asked, voice rising slightly. “You clearly don’t want *me*. You’ve made that abundantly clear over the past three years. You don’t fulfill your marital duties. You don’t support my governance. You don’t even pretend to respect me in public anymore.”

She laughed bitterly.

“So what exactly is the point of this marriage? Why are we still doing this dance where we pretend to be a functional imperial family?”

“Because it’s our *duty*,” Raphael said quietly.

“Duty,” Heena repeated flatly. “You think showing up to the occasional state dinner and wearing your titles is *duty*?”

She shook her head.

“Duty is what Larus did last night. Staying up until dawn reviewing documents because his empress needed help. Duty is actually *contributing* to the empire instead of just existing in it.”

“We have contributed—” Adrian started.

“You’ve done the jobs you already had before marrying me,” Heena interrupted. “Kieran commands the army he inherited from his father. Adrian runs the merchant networks his family built. Damien operates the intelligence system he created. Raphael leads a church that existed long before he was born. None of that is *contribution to our marriage*. That’s just you doing what you’d be doing anyway.”

She looked at them with something like disgust.

“A real consort supports their spouse. Assists with governance. Provides counsel. Stands beside their partner in public and private. You five do *none* of that.”

“Because you never asked,” Damien said, his voice carefully neutral.

“I shouldn’t have to *ask*,” Heena shot back. “You’re supposed to *want* to help. That’s what a partnership is.”

“Partnership?” Kieran’s voice was hard. “You treat us like decorations. You make decisions without consulting us. You bring in a foreign prince and give him more trust in two weeks than you’ve given us in three years—”

“Because he’s *earned* it!” Heena shouted.

The room went silent.

She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down.

“Larus earned my trust by actually helping me,” she said more quietly. “By doing what I asked without complaint. By proving he’s competent and reliable. You five have done nothing but cause problems since the day we were married.”

“We never wanted this marriage,” Adrian said bluntly.

“Neither did I,” Heena said. “But here we are. Stuck with each other because of political necessity and imperial tradition.”

She walked back to her desk and sat down.

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” she said. “You’re going to decide what you actually want. If you want to stay married to me, then you’re going to start acting like actual consorts. That means supporting me publicly. Assisting with governance. Fulfilling your duties.”

She looked at each of them.

“And if you don’t want that—if you’d rather chase after Seraphina or anyone else—then tell me now. We’ll figure out a way to dissolve this marriage that doesn’t destroy the empire. It won’t be easy, but it’s possible.”

“You can’t just dissolve imperial marriages—” Raphael started.

“I’m the Empress,” Heena interrupted. “I can do whatever I want if I’m willing to pay the political cost. And right now, I’m starting to think the cost of staying married to five useless men is higher than the cost of divorce.”

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