Chapter 159: Chapter-159

When it did, both women’s faces went even redder.

Heena laughed—actually laughed, the sound bright and delighted.

“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” she said, patting his arm. “Not everyone in this world lacks basic courtesy. Just… certain families. Certain individuals who seem to think their status exempts them from respect.”

She smiled at the two noblewomen.

“But we’re working on correcting that. Aren’t we, ladies?”

Before either could respond—before this could escalate further—hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Duke Remington appeared, practically running, his formal robes slightly askew from his haste, his face red and his breathing labored.

He’d been in his office, peacefully reviewing financial documents, when a frantic servant had burst in with news that his daughter had caused ’another’ incident. That she’d brought that cursed Seraphina girl into the palace ’again’ without proper authorization. That the Empress was ’furious’.

And that Emperor Consort Larus—the man who’d just been granted half the empire’s wealth in wedding gifts—was also present and witnessing the entire disaster.

Duke Remington had nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

He’d run through the palace corridors, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, his blood pressure skyrocketing, already composing apologies and calculating how much damage control this was going to require.

Now he stood before the Empress and her new husband, and the scene was somehow worse than he’d imagined.

His daughter standing there looking defiant and humiliated. That Seraphina girl on the floor looking like she’d been through a war. Guards everywhere. Servants watching with poorly concealed interest.

A complete disaster.

Duke Remington dropped into the deepest, most respectful bow he could manage.

“I greet Your Imperial Majesty,” he said, his voice slightly breathless. “And Your Imperial Majesty Emperor Consort.”

Heena looked at him, and her smile was nowhere near pleasant. It was the smile of a predator that had just cornered its prey and was deciding how to play with it before the kill.

“Oh, no, no, Duke,” she said with false sweetness. “You really shouldn’t greet us so formally. We clearly don’t deserve such respect from your esteemed family.”

The Duke’s body trembled slightly. He understood that tone. He’d heard it before, from the previous Emperor, right before someone’s estate was seized.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice carefully controlled, “I… I don’t understand. If my daughter has done something wrong, please, I beg you to tell me so I can correct it immediately.”

Heena tilted her head, her smile never wavering. “Of course not, Duke. How could your daughter possibly be wrong? It’s us. We simply don’t dare accept your greetings so easily. After all, your family clearly operates on different standards than the rest of us.”

The Duke’s trembling intensified. He understood perfectly what she was saying: ’Your daughter disrespected us, and now you’ll all pay for it.’

He turned sharply to look at his daughter, his expression shifting from fearful politeness to absolute fury.

Lady Genevieve stood there, her chin raised defiantly, and Duke Remington saw his entire family’s political standing about to crumble because of this stupid, spoiled girl.

He moved faster than anyone expected for a man of his age and size.

’SLAP!’

His hand connected with his daughter’s face with enough force to snap her head to the side.

Lady Genevieve’s face turned bright red where he’d struck her, the handprint clearly visible.

But unlike Seraphina, who’d crumpled and cried when slapped, Genevieve had been struck by her father many times before. She’d been raised in a household where discipline was harsh and frequent, where failure meant physical punishment.

She was used to it.

She turned her face back to her father, her eyes cold and defiant, a slight trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth where his ring had cut her lip.

“What did I do wrong, Father?” she asked, her voice carrying a challenge, a defined tone of rebellion that suggested she genuinely didn’t understand—or didn’t care—what the problem was. “I brought a friend to the palace. I corrected a servant’s poor service. What crime is that?”

Heena’s eyebrows rose with interest.

’Oh, this is good. This girl has spine.’

Most nobles, when publicly struck by their parents in front of the Empress, would crumble into apologies and tears. But Genevieve stood there, blood on her lip, defiance in her eyes, actually ’questioning’ her father’s punishment.

It was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

Possibly both.

Duke Remington looked like he might have a stroke. His face went from red to purple.

“You—you dare—” he sputtered, raising his hand again.

“Duke,” Heena said quietly, and the single word stopped him mid-motion.

Everyone froze.

Heena walked forward slowly, her eyes fixed on Genevieve with genuine curiosity now.

“You genuinely don’t understand what you did wrong?” she asked.

Genevieve met her eyes—which took courage, considering the circumstances—and said, “No, Your Majesty. I invited a fellow noblewoman to the palace during what I believed were ongoing wedding celebrations. I corrected a servant who provided substandard service. These seem like… normal actions for someone of my station.”

Her voice wavered slightly on the last words, but she maintained eye contact.

Heena almost smiled.

’She really doesn’t get it. She’s not being intentionally disrespectful—she genuinely believes she has the right to do these things.’

“I see,” Heena said softly. “Then let me explain something to you, Lady Genevieve. Very clearly. So you understand.”

She gestured around them.

“This palace—every stone, every corridor, every room—belongs to ’me’. Not to the nobility. Not to your family. To ’me’, personally, as sovereign ruler.”

Genevieve nodded slowly, confused about where this was going.

“When you invite someone into my palace without permission,” Heena continued, “you are not bringing a friend to a public celebration. You are bringing an unauthorized person into my ’private home’. Without asking. Without permission.”

Understanding started to dawn in Genevieve’s eyes.

“When you scream at my servants,” Heena went on, “you are not ’correcting poor service.’ You are abusing ’my employees’ in ’my house’. You have no authority over them. They don’t work for you. They work for ’me’.”

Genevieve’s defiant expression began to crack slightly.

“And when you failed to properly greet Emperor Consort Larus,” Heena finished, “you weren’t just being casually rude. You were publicly disrespecting my husband—my chosen partner—someone I just granted more wealth and authority than your entire family has accumulated in three generations.”

She leaned in slightly.

“So to answer your question: you committed the crime of thinking that your status as a duke’s daughter gives you the right to treat my palace like your personal playground. You forgot that no matter how high your family’s rank, you are still a ’subject’ in ’my empire’. And subjects do not give orders in the sovereign’s house.”

Genevieve’s face had gone from defiant to pale and frightened.

“I… I didn’t…” she stammered.

“No, you didn’t think,” Heena agreed. “You acted with the entitlement of someone who’s never been properly corrected. Someone who’s been told their entire life that they’re special, important, deserving of deference.”

She looked at Duke Remington.

“Duke, your daughter needs to learn humility. Real humility. Not fear of punishment, but actual understanding of her place in the world’s hierarchy.”

Duke Remington bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Majesty. I will ensure—”

“No,” Heena interrupted. “You’ll ensure nothing. Because clearly, your methods of discipline haven’t worked. She still doesn’t understand basic respect.”

She turned back to Genevieve.

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