Chapter 81: Chapter-81

Estov swept into the room with a smile on his face, silver hair catching the light, looking infuriatingly relaxed.

“Oh, my dear colleague,” he said warmly. “How are you?”

Heena wanted to slap him.

But her hand didn’t stop moving. Writing ten thousand words was *not* easy, especially with her left hand. Her handwriting looked like a drunk monkey had danced across the page.

Estov glanced down at the paper and raised an eyebrow. “Did you not study? Are you *illiterate*?”

Heena glared at him. “Even if I *were* illiterate, I’d still be better than you—someone who doesn’t even know how to do their own work.”

Estov clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch. Fine, fine, you’re right. You win.”

Heena set down her pen and looked at him properly. “Where the *fuck* have you been?”

He smiled, leaning against the edge of her desk. “Do you think I only need to help *you*? I have my own mission, you know. And unlike you, I’m actually *interested* in mine.”

Heena’s eyes narrowed. She raised her hand, fingers moving in exaggerated air quotes. “If your so-called *original male lead*—” she paused for effect “—found out what you’re doing here, what do you think he would do to you?”

Estov’s expression faltered.

Just for a heartbeat, genuine fear flickered across his face. He was running from world to world to escape that person—a manic, possessive, utterly unhinged protagonist who had decided Estov belonged to *him* and would burn down reality to prove it. [1]

Estov trembled slightly. “Don’t you *dare* give him my address.”

Heena just shrugged. “I told you. You help me, I won’t call him. You *don’t* help me…” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll just ask him for help instead. And I think he’d be *very* interested in knowing what kind of ruckus you’ve caused here.”

Estov paled. “Okay, fine! I *was* doing your work too. Don’t be like that.” He straightened, crossing his arms defensively. “Do you even go *out* of this palace? You don’t know anything.”

Heena looked at him, unimpressed. “Enlighten me.”

“I went to some of the banquets you were invited to,” he said. “As your representative. You know, I’ve made quite a name for myself. And your five idiots?” He grinned. “They’re practically *seething* with jealousy.”

Heena raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t look like jealousy to me. That’s just irritation.”

Estov stared at her, then shot back with mock offense, “Well, what would a *single* person like you even know about what jealousy looks like?”

Heena’s eye twitched.

She grabbed her pen so tightly it nearly cracked.

“Do you want to *fight* right now?” she asked, voice dangerously quiet.

Estov glanced at her bandaged wrist and smirked. “Forget it. You’ve already broken one hand. I don’t want to break the other one.”

Heena was so utterly consumed with rage that she genuinely considered throwing the pen at his face.

But no.

She had just recently found out that his original male lead—the psychotic husband he was running from—was actively searching for him across multiple worlds. If she dared to hurt Estov, that lunatic would chase her across seven dimensions for revenge.

She was *not* dealing with that.

*God, what kind of mental freaks have I gathered around me?*

She sighed, rubbing her forehead with her good hand. “Enough. Just tell me what you’ve done.”

Estov’s grin returned. “Well, I’ve gone to four banquets so far—all as your representative.”

Heena’s head snapped up. “Wait, wait. *Which* representative? And how did you go when I didn’t even *order* you to?”

Estov glanced at System 427, who was suddenly *very* interested in the ceiling.

“I talked to your system,” Estov said innocently. “He said you approved it.”

Heena slowly turned her glare toward the lion.

System 427 raised both paws in surrender, trembling. “I asked you when you were sleeping! You said ’uh-huh, uh-huh,’ so I thought you meant yes!”

Heena slapped her forehead. “Whatever. Go on. Continue.”

Estov leaned back, clearly enjoying himself now. “In those banquets, I met your dear husbands. They also wanted to act as your representatives, but they didn’t because—” he waved a hand “—they’re all workaholics or something. Anyway.”

Heena raised her hand. “Stop telling stories. Give me the *progress*.”

Estov’s grin turned sharp. “Well, now the whole empire knows that I’m your *beloved fiancé*—the one you trust enough to be your representative. The one you *don’t* allow your husbands to be.”

Heena stared at him.

Then she slowly set down her pen.

“You,” she said carefully, “spread a rumor that you’re my *beloved fiancé*?”

“Not a rumor,” Estov said cheerfully. “A *fact*. Technically.”

Heena closed her eyes and took a very long, very slow breath.

System 427 quietly started backing toward the window.

“Estov,” Heena said, voice calm in that terrifying way that meant someone was about to regret their life choices. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

He shrugged. “Made your husbands jealous? Established your authority? Given the nobles something to gossip about instead of plotting against you?”

Heena opened her eyes.

“You’ve made my life *exponentially harder*,” she said flatly.

Estov just smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Heena looked at him and smiled sweetly.

“Just keep your ’you’re welcome’ to yourself,” she said. “And all the best.”

Estov paused, confused. “All the best? What do you—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

The door swung open—no knock, no warning, just the sharp click of the handle and the heavy swing of wood against stone.

Heena pinched the bridge of her nose.

*Why the hell does no one care about the rules?* she thought bitterly. *At least if you don’t care about rules, care about manners a little bit. Can you not knock? Just once?*

But she didn’t dare say any of that out loud.

Not to *this* woman.

So instead, she plastered on a smile and turned toward the door. “Aunt! What a surprise.”

The Duchess paused just inside the threshold, eyes sweeping the room. Her gaze landed on Heena, lingered for a moment with the faintest hint of a smile—more threat than warmth—then shifted to Estov.

She looked him up and down with the slow, assessing gaze of someone deciding whether a piece of furniture was worth keeping or should be thrown out.

“So,” she said. “This is the fiancé?”

Heena nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s him.”

The Duchess said nothing for a long moment.

Then, without warning, she strode forward, grabbed Estov by the collar, and *yanked* him toward the door.

“Very good,” she said crisply. “Let’s go have a little chat.”

Heena raised her hand and gave him a cheerful thumbs-up.

Estov, who was being dragged like a sack of rice, twisted his head to look back at her, eyes wide with confusion and dawning horror.

Heena’s smile turned absolutely *devilish*.

His expression shifted instantly. His eyes screamed at her: *Stop this! Save me right now!*

Heena just waved.

“Have fun!” she called sweetly.

The door slammed shut behind them.

System 427 floated down, staring at the closed door in shock. “Host… you just… you just threw him to the wolves.”

Heena picked up her pen again and returned to her apology letter, humming softly.

“He said he wanted to help me,” she said. “Now he gets to experience the full Empress package. Consider it bonding.” [1]

The system had no words.

From somewhere down the hall, a very faint, very alarmed shout echoed back: *”HEENA, YOU TRAITOR—!”*

Heena’s smile widened.

“Worth it,” she murmured.

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