Chapter 88: Chapter-88

She walked straight past them without a word, stopping only when she reached the grand entrance to the hall.

The guards stationed there immediately bowed deeply.

One of them straightened and turned toward the hall, drawing a deep breath.

“Presenting!” he shouted, voice echoing through the space. “The mighty ruler of this kingdom! The sun that shines above us! The master of the entire realm!”

The banquet hall fell into instant, absolute silence.

Every conversation stopped mid-sentence. Every glass was set down. Every head turned toward the entrance.

“Her Majesty,” the guard continued, voice ringing with authority, “the Fourteenth Empress—’Celeste’!”

The massive doors swung open.

Heena stepped inside.

She was dressed in deep crimson and black, her gown flowing behind her like liquid shadow. Gold embroidery traced intricate patterns along the sleeves and hem. Her hair was pinned up in an elaborate style, held in place by a delicate crown—not the heavy imperial diadem, but something sleek and sharp. Her injured wrist was wrapped in black silk instead of plain bandages, making it look almost intentional, like an accessory rather than a weakness.

She looked like power itself had put on a dress and decided to attend a party.

Every noble in the room dropped into a bow or curtsy.

Even Prince Larus, standing near the center of the hall, inclined his head respectfully—though his blue eyes tracked her with open curiosity.

Heena walked forward slowly, letting the moment stretch, letting them ’see’ her.

Behind her, her five husbands entered as well, but no one announced them. No one even looked at them.

All eyes were on the Empress.

Heena reached the center of the hall and stopped, her gaze sweeping across the room with practiced ease.

“Rise,” she said, voice clear and commanding.

As one, the assembled nobles straightened, though no one dared speak first.

Heena’s eyes found Prince Larus almost immediately. He was hard to miss—standing tall among the sea of pale faces, gold glinting at his throat and ears, that confident half-smile still playing at his lips.

She walked toward him.

The crowd parted like water.

When she stopped in front of him, he bowed again—deeper this time, one hand pressed to his chest in what must have been a Marus greeting.

“Your Majesty,” he said, voice warm and smooth, with a faint accent that made the words curl pleasantly. “It is an honor to stand in your presence. I am Prince Larus Okmana of the Marus Kingdom. My father, the King, sends his regards and hopes for continued peace between our nations.”

Heena studied him for a moment, taking in the easy confidence, the way he held himself without arrogance but with absolute certainty.

She smiled faintly. “Prince Larus. Welcome to the empire. I trust your journey was not too difficult?”

“Long,” he admitted with a slight grin, “but worthwhile. Your capital is even more magnificent than the stories claimed.”

“Flattery already?” Heena raised an eyebrow. “You work fast, Prince.”

Larus laughed—a genuine, rich sound that turned a few heads. “I prefer to call it honesty, Your Majesty. Though if flattery is required, I assure you I am more than capable.”

A ripple of quiet laughter moved through the nearby nobles.

Heena’s smile widened just a fraction. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She gestured toward the banquet table. “Please, enjoy the evening. If there is anything you or your delegation require, you need only ask.”

“Your hospitality is already more than generous,” Larus said, inclining his head again.

Heena turned to move on—

“Your Majesty,” Larus called after her, voice still light but edged with curiosity. “If I may ask… is it true what they say about you?”

Heena paused and glanced back. “That depends on what ’they’ are saying.”

His blue eyes gleamed with amusement. “That the Empress of this empire is as sharp as a blade and twice as dangerous.”

The hall went very quiet.

Heena turned fully to face him, expression unreadable.

Then she smiled—slow, deliberate, and absolutely lethal.

“Only twice?” she said softly.

Larus blinked, then threw his head back and laughed again, louder this time, utterly delighted.

“I think,” he said, grinning widely, “I am going to ’enjoy’ my stay here.”

Heena inclined her head. “See that you do, Prince.”

She walked away, leaving him still smiling after her.

’’’

Across the hall, near one of the refreshment tables, her five husbands stood clustered together, watching the exchange with varying degrees of displeasure.

Kieran’s jaw was tight. “She didn’t even ’look’ at us.”

“She walked right past us like we were furniture,” Adrian muttered, adjusting his glasses with more force than necessary.

Damien swirled his wine, eyes narrowed. “And now she’s ’flirting’ with a foreign prince.”

“She wasn’t flirting,” Raphael said quietly, though his grip on his glass was white-knuckled. “She was being diplomatic.”

Lucian snorted. “That wasn’t diplomacy. That was her deciding whether or not she likes him.”

“And?” Damien asked, still watching Heena as she moved through the crowd, nobles bowing as she passed. “Do you think she does?”

No one answered.

Because the truth was written plainly across her face as she had smiled at Prince Larus.

She was ’interested’.

’’’

Meanwhile, System 427 floated invisibly near the ceiling, watching the whole scene unfold with growing dread.

“Host,” he whispered into her mind, “please tell me you’re not actually considering—”

“Considering what?” Heena replied silently, accepting a glass of wine from a passing servant.

“You ’know’ what! The prince! The marriage alliance! The—the political entanglement that’s going to make your five husbands lose their minds!”

Heena took a sip of wine, eyes scanning the room. “System, I’m just being a good host.”

“You smiled at him like you were planning something!”

“I’m ’always’ planning something,” Heena said. “That’s my job.”

She spotted Prince Larus across the room again. He was talking to a group of ministers now, gesturing animatedly, and they were all laughing. Charismatic. Confident. Unbothered by the scrutiny.

’Interesting’, she thought.

System 427 groaned. “We’re doomed. I can feel it. This is going to spiral.”

Heena just smiled and raised her glass in a silent toast to no one in particular.

Across the hall, Larus caught her eye and raised his own glass in return, that same easy grin on his face.

Oh yes.

This was going to be ’fun’.

The music slowed, transitioning into the opening notes of the evening’s first formal dance.

This was the moment everyone had been waiting for—the traditional first dance, where the Empress would choose her partner.

Prince Kieran took a step forward instinctively. As the first husband, it was normally his right to claim the first dance. But then he remembered—he was currently demoted to ’cocubine’. His position had been stripped. His privileges revoked.

He stopped mid-step, jaw clenched.

He glanced at Damien, who pointedly looked away, pretending to be fascinated by a nearby tapestry.

Then Raphael moved.

The priest gathered his courage—or perhaps his desperation—and walked forward with as much confidence as he could muster. His violet eyes were fixed on Heena, who stood near the edge of the dance floor, wine glass in hand, expression unreadable.

He reached her, opened his mouth to speak—

Heena turned.

But not toward him.

She looked past Raphael entirely, her gaze landing on Prince Larus, who stood a few paces away, mid-conversation with a duchess.

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