Chapter 145: Chapter-145

“So…?” the System prompted.

“So,” Heena continued, “when someone of Kaelen’s power level abandons a world that suddenly, that carelessly, without proper extraction protocols—there are consequences. He’s embedded himself deeply into this world’s narrative. He’s a military general with active command responsibilities. He’s in the middle of a bandit suppression campaign in the eastern territories.”

Understanding dawned in the System’s eyes.

“If he just vanishes…” the System said slowly.

“The world itself will create a narrative explanation,” Heena finished. “Because story worlds don’t like loose threads. They don’t like characters who just disappear without reason. So the world will generate a death scenario that fits the context.”

She smiled coldly.

“And if I’m not wrong, by tomorrow there will be news of General Kaelen’s death. Killed in combat against bandits. Body unrecoverable. A tragic but understandable military casualty.”

The System looked skeptical. “Host… that seems like you’re making a lot of assumptions—”

“We’ll see,” Heena said simply.

—

The next day, just as Heena predicted, the news arrived.

General Kaelen Drakos had died in combat in the eastern territories. Killed while engaging a particularly vicious bandit group. His body had not been recovered—the bandits had retreated into difficult terrain, taking their dead and wounded with them.

Multiple soldiers had witnessed the general fall. The reports were consistent, detailed, and completely mundane.

A military casualty. Tragic but not unusual.

The System turned to look at Heena with shock. She was standing on her balcony, looking down at the palace grounds with an expression of complete unsurprise.

“How…” the System said quietly. “How were you so certain he would die today? And that he would die fighting bandits specifically?”

Heena looked at him like he was being deliberately obtuse.

“Because there’s no active war where he could die in battle. And he couldn’t just evaporate into thin air—the world needed a plausible explanation for his disappearance. So he would either be assassinated, which would raise too many questions, or die in combat against the bandit groups he was actively pursuing.”

She shrugged.

“And since I sent him on that specific bandit suppression mission seven days ago, of course he would die there. The narrative practically wrote itself.”

The System stared at her. “Host… you planned all of this from the beginning?”

“Of course,” Heena said. “I don’t like being disturbed while I’m working. So I eliminate disturbances efficiently.”

With that, she turned and walked back inside, already moving on to the next item on her endless mental checklist.

—

## Three Days Until the Wedding

There were only three days left until the wedding, and the palace was in absolute chaos.

Servants rushed through corridors carrying bolts of fabric, boxes of jewelry, massive floral arrangements. Musicians rehearsed in every available room. Cooks worked around the clock preparing dishes that would feed thousands. The grounds were being transformed into something out of a fairy tale.

Even Heena, despite being buried in governmental work, couldn’t escape the wedding preparations entirely.

Because while her aunt had grudgingly allowed her to wear a suit for the ’engagement’, she had made it absolutely crystal clear that if Heena ’dared’ to wear a suit for the actual ’wedding’, the Duchess would personally use transformation magic to dress her like a traditional bride.

And Heena genuinely did not want to test whether her aunt would actually do that.

So she found herself in the imperial dressing chambers, surrounded by seamstresses, designers, and what felt like a hundred wedding gowns.

The gowns were… stunning.

Even Heena, who prided herself on being practical and unimpressed by frivolous things, had to admit they were absolutely gorgeous. The craftsmanship was extraordinary—each dress a masterpiece of embroidery, beading, and delicate fabric work that modern worlds could barely replicate.

The System materialized beside her, looking at the array of dresses with wide eyes.

“Wow,” he said. “So much white.”

Heena laughed and smiled at him. “What do you think?”

“Well, they’re all gorgeous,” the System admitted. “But why would you wear white? It seems funny for a black lotus to dress like an innocent flower.”

A mischievous smile flashed across Heena’s face. She turned to the head seamstress.

“Why are all of these white?”

The seamstress looked slightly taken aback by the question. “Your Majesty, wedding dresses are traditionally white. It symbolizes purity and—”

“And who decided that?” Heena interrupted pleasantly.

The seamstress was dumbfounded, clearly not knowing how to answer such a fundamental question.

Then Madame Delacroix stepped forward—the master designer and boutique leader who had brought these gowns from the capital’s most prestigious atelier.

“Your Majesty,” she said with a respectful bow, “it has been a long-standing tradition for centuries that brides wear white. The custom dates back to the first Empress, who—”

“How would you like to leave your name in history?” Heena interrupted, looking at the designer with sharp interest.

Madame Delacroix paused, clearly intrigued but confused. “Your Majesty?”

Heena smiled and gestured for the woman to come closer. When she did, Heena leaned in and whispered something in her ear.

The designer’s eyes went wide with shock. “Your Majesty! That’s—that’s completely unprecedented! The scandal—the nobles would—”

“Do you think if I wasn’t sure, I would suggest it?” Heena asked calmly. “Your name would be in every history book. The designer who dressed the Empress in the gown that changed wedding traditions forever.”

A slow, delighted smile spread across Madame Delacroix’s face.

“Well,” she said, her eyes gleaming with professional excitement and artistic ambition, “if it’s Your Majesty’s order, how can I refuse? Give me two days. I’ll create something that will make the entire empire hold its breath.”

—

## The Wedding Day

The wedding day arrived like dawn breaking over a new world.

The entire empire seemed to have been transformed overnight. Flowers cascaded from every building, every archway, every street corner—a riot of color that made the capital look like it had been painted by an artist’s brush. Roses, lilies, cherry blossoms, exotic blooms from the southern territories, all woven together in garlands and arrangements that must have taken hundreds of people weeks to prepare.

The streets had been cleaned until they gleamed. Every cobblestone scrubbed, every building facade decorated, every shop window displaying celebratory arrangements.

The ceremony would technically take place in the palace’s grand ceremonial hall—that was required by tradition and law.

But Heena had decided that wasn’t enough.

She wanted everyone to see her husband. She wanted the entire empire to witness this marriage, to understand exactly what kind of partnership she was creating.

So she’d commissioned the use of the Grand Theater—not a playhouse for entertainment, but the massive amphitheater normally used for imperial announcements, military ceremonies, and state celebrations. It could hold ten thousand people comfortably, with perfect sight lines to the central stage.

And today, it was filled to capacity.

Nobles occupied the premium seating in their finest clothes—silks and velvets in every color imaginable, jewelry that caught the sunlight like stars. Foreign ambassadors sat in their designated sections, representing kingdoms from across the known world. Military commanders in full dress uniform. Religious leaders in ceremonial robes. Court officials and their families.

But Heena had also opened the upper galleries to common citizens—first come, first served. Thousands of ordinary people had lined up before dawn for the chance to witness their Empress’s wedding.

The amphitheater buzzed with excitement and speculation.

At the center of the space, a wedding altar had been constructed—and it was magnificent.

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