Chapter 41: Chapter-41

Astov snorted. The tender warmth in his eyes curdled into something dry and cutting now that they were out of earshot. “Worried? Over ’her’? Please. She can’t even handle one collapsing empire without writing me letters like—what was it—” he raised his voice half a note higher, mocking, “’’Astov, everything is on fire, they’re all idiots, come fix my mess or I’ll haunt you across dimensions’’?”

Heena’s eye twitched. She kept her head turned just enough that anyone watching would think she was gazing fondly up at him.

“Like hell I ’called’ you,” she hissed. “Did I drag your dramatic ass back from your little exile vacation? No. ’You’ want something from ’me’, remember? So stop acting like the diva that you are.”

Astov stopped walking for half a heartbeat, then resumed, matching her pace again. To a distant observer, it was only a small, affectionate pause.

“You,” he scoffed, “are the one who can’t control a single empire without my advice. Crying in your letters, ’Astov, the northern prince is planning treason, the priest is shady, the white lotus has a system, help me or I’ll burn the plot down.’ And now you’re pretending you didn’t beg?”

System 427’s head ping‑ponged between them, eyes wide. “Wait—wait—so you ’two’ know each other from ’before’ this world? Since when?”

“Since always,” they answered in unison, then glared at each other for stealing the line.

Heena lifted their joined hands a fraction, pretending to admire the Tempest Crown on his head as she spoke through her teeth. “Clarify it properly, Your Highness,” she said in a tone that could have been mistaken for teasing affection. “Before the cosmic laws decide to smite us for plot derailment.”

System 427 clutched his mane. “You’re a support asset from Central? Why didn’t anyone tell me this world already had a plant?!”

“Because,” Astov replied blandly, still smiling down at Heena, “your department leaks more than a drunk informant.”

Heena smirked. “And because my dear fiancé here loves secrets more than men. Oh, wait. No, that’s wrong. He loves ’men’ more than anything.”

Astov rolled his eyes. “You say that like it’s an insult.”

He straightened, public mask back in place, and brushed an imaginary speck of dust from her sleeve. To anyone watching from the balcony, it looked tender. Intimate.

“So,” he said lightly, “let’s review. You’re stuck in the body of the most hated empress in the empire, married to five treacherous idiots with murder fantasies. I’m the ’exiled fiancé’ who was supposed to be a tragic footnote. Now the universe has very kindly let us collide again, and you decided to out me as your betrothed in front of fifty thousand people. Remind me why I shouldn’t throw you into the nearest fountain.”

“Because,” Heena replied, just as lightly, “you owe me for World 7, World 9, and that time I covered for you when you accidentally seduced the final boss instead of the heroine.”

System 427 choked. “You ’what’?”

Astov glared at her. “That was one time. And he had great cheekbones.”

They walked on, gravel crunching softly underfoot.

Heena’s smile faded into something sharper, more predatory. “Enough bickering. We don’t have time. You saw them tonight. The five walking red flags? They already hate me, they already tried to kill me, and the heroine has a system backing her. If we don’t lock this plot down, this world collapses and we both get our points docked.”

Astov’s gaze slid toward the lit windows of the palace, where shadows of consorts paced in high‑ceilinged rooms. “You already stole half of Kieran’s army authority,” he murmured. “Robbinston shifted treasury leverage. Public opinion just watched you reclaim your ’lost fiancé.’ Not bad for a single night.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she said, but the corner of her mouth twitched. “I need you for the rest. Military cleanup, western nobles, Serafina’s backing. You know this empire’s underbelly better than I do.”

“And what do ’I’ get?” Astov asked, voice almost lazy. “You dragged my name back into politics. I was very happy being a pretty ghost with no responsibilities.”

Heena stopped this time, turning to face him fully. Lantern light gilded her features, made the smile on her lips look almost soft.

“You get what you’ve always wanted,” she said quietly. “A front‑row seat while I break every one of those cheating bastards and rebuild this empire in my image. Plus immunity from my wrath and a free pass to flirt with every handsome man in three kingdoms. Deal?”

He considered it for a heartbeat, grey eyes searching her face like he was weighing worlds.

Then he sighed. “You really are a nightmare.”

But his hand tightened on hers.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s burn their story to the ground. I’ll be the perfect fiancé. They won’t know what hit them.”

System 427 floated between them, tail flicking anxiously. “Just—just don’t overdo it, okay? Cosmic backlash is already spiking. The plot threads are—”

Heena and Astov answered together, utterly unfazed.

“We’ll handle it.”

And under the gentle moonlight of the imperial gardens, the Empress and her “lost fiancé” walked on, two smiling monsters planning the slow destruction of every man who’d ever thought they could control their story.

Midnight draped the empire in silence, but the Empress’s office still burned with lamplight.

Heena dropped into her chair with a graceless thud, scattering a small pile of scrolls. Just being the empress did not mean she ever got to rest; if anything, the title came with more paperwork than power. Some nights she genuinely wondered why she’d agreed to take this world at all.

She rubbed her temples and muttered, “If you dare pull something like this one more time, I’ll beat you so hard you’ll be forced into retirement before you even reach adulthood.”

System 427, hovering nervously in front of her desk, trembled from mane to tail. “H‑Heena, I… I want to ask you something,” he ventured.

She paused mid‑pen stroke and raised an eyebrow. “First, you ask ’politely’,” she said flatly. “Second, whether I answer depends entirely on my mood. If I don’t want to, you shut up and get lost. Third—” her gaze sharpened, “answer ’me’ first. Why the hell are you even here? Didn’t I tell you not to show your furry face until I called you?”

The little lion’s ears drooped. He puffed out his cheeks in a pout. “But you ’can’t’ call me if I don’t come!” he protested weakly. “Secondly, I was worried. That idiotic system is in this world, and I found something. I had to tell you.”

Heena’s pen stilled over the parchment. “Talk.”

System 427 swallowed. “He’s already been arrested once. For killing hosts.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

“What?” Heena’s voice came out low and flat.

The system nodded hard. “Y‑Yes. That Black–White Lotus system—he’s a complete criminal. He’s killed more than two, maybe up to five of his own hosts. Not just that, he’s injured other systems and their hosts who happened to be in the same worlds as him. One time he drained a side‑character host’s energy so badly their soul ’shattered’—scattered across the world. They still haven’t been found.”

Heena’s expression went from irritated to ’dark’.

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