Chapter 242: Chapter-242

’’[The Tenth Year – The Time Comes]’’

Days turned into months, months into years.

And soon, the tenth year arrived—the time for Heena to leave this world.

Just after Year Ten passed by two months, her body completely failed.

One afternoon, she was calmly working in her office, discussing some trade agreements with Secretary Chen, when suddenly she collapsed directly onto the ground.

No warning. No gradual weakening. Just sudden, complete collapse.

Her body had a few restless movements, then went still.

Secretary Chen had screamed for physicians, for guards, for help.

They’d rushed her to her chambers, and she’d lain unconscious for three full days.

When she finally woke up, Larus was sitting beside her bed, looking like he’d aged a decade. His eyes were red from lack of sleep, his face drawn with worry.

Heena looked around the room and saw her System floating nearby—visible only to her.

System 427 had a sad smile on his face and said gently, “Host, it’s time.”

Hearing that, Heena looked at him and asked in her mind, ’When do I need to go?’

The System’s expression became even sadder. “You have about four days left, Host.”

Hearing that, Heena smiled and thought, ’That’s enough time.’

And in those four days, it was like she’d come back to life. She became energetic again—spending one entire day playing with Solene and Caelan, telling them stories, holding them close, memorizing every detail of their faces.

The children, now nine years old, were confused by her sudden burst of energy after days of being unconscious, but they were happy to have their mother back.

Then she spent the remaining days dealing with massive amounts of work—writing final edicts, signing documents transferring authority, creating detailed instructions for governance, assigning responsibilities to trusted officials.

She worked almost non-stop, barely sleeping, driven by the knowledge that time was running out.

Larus felt like his soul was leaving his body watching her. He aged another decade in just those few days, understanding what she was doing even if he didn’t know why.

—

’’[The Final Night]’’

On the fourth night, Heena called Larus to their private chambers.

She looked tired but peaceful.

“Sit with me,” she said, patting the bed beside her.

Larus sat, taking her hand in his.

“I need to tell you something,” Heena said quietly. “And I need you to listen without interrupting.”

Larus nodded, fear creeping into his heart.

“I’m dying,” Heena said simply. “The poison from years ago—it’s been slowly destroying my body all this time. I’ve known since the beginning. I have maybe hours left, not days.”

Larus’s face went white. “No. No, there must be something—the physicians can—”

“There’s nothing,” Heena said gently. “I’ve known this was coming for ten years. I’ve had time to prepare.”

Tears were streaming down Larus’s face now.

“I’ve left instructions,” Heena continued. “Legal documents making your aunt the children’s guardian, Secretary Chen as their administrative advisor. The empire will be stable. Our children will be protected.”

“I don’t care about the empire,” Larus said, his voice breaking. “I care about YOU.”

“I know,” Heena said, reaching up to touch his face. “And I love you for that. But you need to be strong now. For Solene and Caelan. They’ll need you.”

“I need you,” Larus whispered.

“I know,” Heena said again. “But Larus—I’ve been so happy. These ten years with you, having our children, building this life together—it’s been more than I ever thought I’d have. I have no regrets.”

She smiled at him.

“Except that I won’t see our children grow up. That I won’t grow old with you. But I’m grateful for every moment we had.”

They held each other as Heena’s breathing became more labored, more difficult.

“I love you,” she whispered. “Tell our children I love them. Tell them their mother was proud of them.”

“I love you too,” Larus said, his voice choked with tears. “I’ll always love you.”

Heena smiled one last time.

Then her eyes closed, and she was gone.

—

’’[The Funeral]’’

Heena had left specific instructions for her funeral.

She wanted to be cremated, and her ashes scattered in the Rolik River that ran through the heart of the empire—the same river that connected all the major cities and territories.

“So I can travel through my whole empire even after death,” she’d written. “Not bound to one place, but free to flow everywhere.”

It had also been the wish of the original Celeste, whose body this had been. Heena honored that wish.

The funeral was massive. Thousands of people came to pay their respects.

Many nobles were crying—genuine tears for an Empress who’d brought prosperity and peace. Common people wept in the streets, mourning the loss of a ruler who’d cared about their wellbeing.

The twins, Solene and Caelan, stood composed during the ceremony. They cried, yes, but they were much calmer than others around them. They’d spent that last day with their mother, and they’d understood somehow that she was saying goodbye.

They knew she wouldn’t want them to fall apart.

But Larus—Larus didn’t cry. Not a single tear.

He stood stone-faced throughout the entire funeral ceremony, his expression completely blank, like all emotion had been drained from him.

On the day of the cremation, as the funeral pyre was being prepared, Larus quietly handed Solene and Caelan to the Duchess.

“Take care of them,” he said simply.

The Duchess’s eyes widened with sudden understanding and fear. “Larus, no—”

But he walked away before she could stop him.

She tried to grab his arm, tried to use her authority to command the guards to restrain him, but Larus broke free with a strength born of absolute determination.

He walked directly toward the burning pyre where Heena’s body lay.

“LARUS!” the Duchess screamed. “STOP HIM!”

But he was faster.

He stepped directly into the flames.

The fire was intense, already roaring. In front of everyone assembled—nobles, guards, common people, his own children—Larus was engulfed in flames.

But there was a smile on his face.

He looked at Heena’s body beside him, and in his mind, he said clearly: ’System, let’s go find her.’

And then the flames consumed him completely.

—

That day, the empire lost both its mother and father.

Both the Empress and Emperor Consort died on the same day.

And that day, people truly understood why the Empress had chosen this particular consort above all others.

Because his love for her was so absolute, so complete, that he couldn’t exist in a world without her.

The children broke down crying when they realized what their father had done.

But the Duchess held them close, whispering that their father had made his choice, and they needed to honor it by being strong.

Larus had left a detailed document—a final speech and instructions—that was read aloud after the funeral.

It assigned the Duchess as the legal guardian of both children until they came of age.

It appointed Secretary Chen as their chief administrative advisor and teacher in matters of governance.

It outlined exactly how the regency should function, how power should be distributed, how the children should be educated.

Secretary Chen, who’d served the imperial family for over forty-five years, burst into tears when his role was read aloud.

The children were left in the care of the Duchess and Chen, and everyone wondered if they would resent their father for abandoning them.

But they didn’t.

The twins understood—even at seven years old, they somehow understood.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep