Chapter 138: Chapter-138

“Fine,” Heena said, her voice clipped. “It was my order. But from now on, remember—if you knock and I don’t answer, ’stay outside’.”

They all looked at Larus’s back and nodded.

Larus, who had now straightened his clothes as much as possible, didn’t move from the chair. He just sat there facing the wall where a beautiful landscape painting hung, clearly trying to become invisible.

Kieran spoke up, his tone carefully controlled but with an edge underneath:

“Your Majesty, we have an important meeting to conduct.”

“So what?” Heena replied flatly. “I’m not running away. I’m standing right in front of you. Start the meeting.”

Kieran stopped, his jaw tightening. He looked at Heena and then very deliberately at Larus’s back.

“Your Majesty,” he said with forced politeness, “this is a confidential meeting regarding state security and military matters. I would respectfully request that you send Prince Larus out.”

Heena raised one eyebrow.

Kieran continued, clearly prepared for this: “Even though you are engaged, he is not yet your consort. And even when he becomes your consort in the future, he has no authority to participate in strategic military meetings about the empire’s defense. Even you know this, right, Your Majesty?”

The room went cold.

Heena looked at him and said in an icy tone, “Are you teaching me what to do and what not to do, ’concubine’?”

It was the first time since changing his title—actually the second time—that Heena had directly called him “concubine” instead of “consort.”

Kieran’s face flushed red with humiliation.

Heena continued coldly, “Just because I call you ’consort’ out of courtesy to preserve the dignity of your parents and your family name doesn’t mean your status has changed. I address you politely because I respect the families who allied with this empire.”

She took a step forward.

“But make no mistake—your title is ’concubine’. Your position is ’concubine’. And concubines do not dictate who the Empress allows in her own office during meetings.”

Kieran’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Furthermore,” Heena continued, her voice dropping even colder, “Prince Larus will be my ’primary consort’. Not a concubine. Not a political accessory. My ’Emperor Consort’ with full authority over half this empire.”

She let that sink in.

“Which means that in five days, he will outrank every single one of you. He will have the authority to sit in any meeting he chooses. He will have access to any information he requests. He will have decision-making power that you have never had and will never have.”

Adrian shifted uncomfortably. Damien’s eyes narrowed. Raphael looked down at his feet.

“So tell me, ’Concubine Kieran’,” Heena said with dangerous softness, “are you objecting to my future Emperor Consort being present? Because if you are, I can arrange for you to not be present instead.”

Silence.

Kieran stood there, visibly struggling with rage and humiliation, his military training the only thing keeping him from exploding.

Finally, he said through gritted teeth, “No, Your Majesty. I have no objection.”

“Good,” Heena said pleasantly, her tone shifting like flipping a switch. “Then let’s begin the meeting. What matters need to be discussed?”

The four consorts exchanged glances, clearly uncomfortable but unable to do anything about the situation.

.

.

.

The meeting began in earnest, with everyone taking their positions around Heena’s large oak desk.

On one side sat Heena and Larus. On the other side, the four consorts arranged themselves—Kieran, Adrian, Damien, and Raphael—looking distinctly uncomfortable with the new seating arrangement.

Well, calling it “sitting” was somewhat of an understatement for what was happening on Heena’s side of the table.

Because while the consorts were trying to conduct serious imperial business, Heena was absolutely, shamelessly flirting with Larus the entire time.

And she really, ’really’ liked his reactions.

There weren’t many people like Larus—so genuinely innocent, so easily flustered, so delightfully responsive to teasing. It was like having a new toy that gave the most entertaining feedback.

Kieran was in the middle of explaining something serious: “—the bandits in the eastern territories have been growing more bold. Three merchant caravans were attacked last week alone, and the local garrison reports—”

Under the table, Heena’s foot slowly, deliberately slid up along Larus’s leg.

Larus’s entire body went rigid. His face turned bright red, and he made a small, strangled sound that he tried desperately to cover with a cough.

“—ahem—”

Everyone at the table paused, looking at him.

“Are you alright, Your Highness?” Raphael asked with apparent concern.

“F-fine,” Larus managed, his voice slightly higher than normal. “Just… something in my throat. Please continue.”

Heena’s expression remained perfectly neutral, attentively focused on Kieran, as if she were deeply invested in the bandit situation.

Her foot, meanwhile, continued its slow journey upward along Larus’s calf.

Kieran cleared his throat and continued, clearly annoyed at being interrupted: “As I was saying, the garrison commander requests additional troops to—”

Heena’s foot reached Larus’s knee and paused there, making small circles.

Larus’s hands gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. He was trembling slightly but trying desperately to maintain a neutral expression.

He shot Heena a pleading look—’please, have mercy’—but she just smiled innocently and continued listening to the briefing with apparent rapt attention.

Her foot slid higher, reaching his thigh.

“—and the economic impact has been significant,” Adrian was saying now, having taken over from Kieran. “Trade through the eastern routes has dropped by nearly forty percent, which affects tax revenue and—”

Larus made another strangled sound and suddenly dropped his head forward onto the table with a soft ’thunk’.

Everyone froze.

Four pairs of eyes stared at Larus, who was now face-down on the table, his shoulders shaking slightly.

“Your Highness?” Damien asked carefully. “Are you unwell?”

“I’m… I’m fine,” Larus said, his voice muffled by the table. “Just… sudden headache. Very sudden. Please… continue.”

Heena’s expression showed mild concern. “Oh dear. Are you sure you’re alright? Should I call for a physician?”

Under the table, her foot was now firmly planted on his upper thigh, applying gentle pressure.

“No!” Larus said too quickly, his voice cracking. “No physician necessary. I’m… perfectly… fine.”

The four consorts exchanged glances.

Kieran’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Adrian looked confused. Damien’s expression suggested he was starting to figure something out. Raphael just looked genuinely worried.

“Perhaps we should postpone this meeting,” Raphael suggested. “If Prince Larus is feeling ill—”

“No need,” Heena said pleasantly. “He’s just tired. The engagement ceremony was exhausting. He’ll be fine. Please continue with the briefing. The dam situation—you were about to discuss that?”

Kieran looked like he wanted to argue, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward: “Yes. The eastern dam has been showing signs of structural weakness. The engineers report cracks in the foundation that could lead to catastrophic failure if not addressed immediately—”

Heena’s foot slid even higher, now dangerously close to—

Larus grabbed the table edge so hard the wood creaked. His entire face had gone crimson, and he was breathing in short, controlled gasps.

“—the cost of repairs would be substantial,” Kieran continued, his voice rising slightly in frustration at the continued interruptions. “We’re looking at approximately fifty thousand gold pieces, and the timeline—”

“Your Majesty,” Larus suddenly said, his voice strained and slightly desperate, “may I be excused? Just… just for a moment. I need… air.”

“Of course,” Heena said with false sympathy. “Take all the time you need.”

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