"One month in the kitchens," she said. "Working alongside the servants you think are beneath you. Learning what actual hard work looks like. No special treatnt, no reduced duties, no leaving early. You’ll work the sa hours, do the sa tasks, eat the sa food as every other kitchen worker."
Genevieve’s eyes went wide. "Your Majesty, I—"
"And," Heena continued, "you’ll personally apologize to every servant you’ve ever scread at in this palace. A real apology. On your knees. With witnesses."
"That’s—that’s humiliating—" Genevieve started.
"That’s the point," Heena said flatly. "You need to be humiliated. You need to understand what it feels like to be on the receiving end of disrespect."
She looked at Duke Remington.
"If she completes this month successfully, with good reports from the kitchen staff, I’ll consider the matter settled. If she complains, refuses, or tries to get special treatnt, I’ll extend the punishnt to three months. And if she outright refuses—"
Heena’s smile turned cold.
"—I’ll strip her of her title entirely and have her working in the kitchens permanently. As an actual servant. Not a noble learning a lesson, but a commoner earning her living through labor."
Duke Remington looked like he might faint, but he bowed again. "Your Majesty is most rciful. My daughter will comply completely."
"She better," Heena said. She turned to Larus, who’d been watching this entire exchange with fascination. "Darling, I’m sorry you had to witness this unpleasantness. Shall we continue your tour of the palace? I believe the western gardens are particularly beautiful this ti of day."
Larus smiled warmly, offering his arm. "I’d be delighted, sweetheart."
As they walked away together, Heena called back over her shoulder:
Seraphina walked forward quickly, getting ahead of Heena and Larus, then turned to face them, effectively blocking their path.
"You must stay!" she shouted, her voice shaking with desperation. "Your Majesty, please! I have sothing important to say!"
Heena paused mid-step and slowly—very slowly—turned to look at Seraphina with an expression of such utter annoyance that several nearby servants took an involuntary step backward.
’What the actual fuck is wrong with this woman?’
She’d literally just been ’banned’ from the palace. Explicitly. Publicly. With witnesses. And yet here she was, ’still here’, blocking the Empress’s path like so kind of delusional stalker who couldn’t take a hint.
Soone’s hands were already scheduled to be cut off for letting her in. What more did Seraphina want? A full execution? A public flogging?
Heena looked at her with barely concealed irritation. "What?"
"You must stay," Seraphina repeated, tears streaming down her face, her voice breaking. "I have sothing ’important’ to tell you. Sothing you need to know before—"
"We’ll talk later," Heena interrupted flatly.
She had absolutely zero interest in hearing whatever dramatic revelation this protagonist thought was so earth-shatteringly important. She’d been married for less than two days and had spent approximately thirty total minutes actually ’alone’ with her husband. She was not about to waste more ti listening to Seraphina’s tears and manipulations.
She grabbed Larus’s hand more firmly and turned to walk away.
"I’M PREGNANT!"
The shout echoed through the corridor like a thunderclap.
Everything went absolutely silent.
’Dead’ silent.
The kind of silence that falls when sothing so shocking happens that every single person within earshot forgets how to breathe.
Servants froze mid-step. Guards stood like statues. Even the birds outside seed to stop singing.
Heena turned around very slowly, her expression completely blank.
Beside her, Larus had gone completely still, his face frozen in shock, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide.
The silence stretched on.
And on.
Finally, Heena spoke, her voice utterly deadpan:
"It’s not mine."
’What?’
’WHAT?!’
The absurdity of the statent—the complete and total randomness of it—shattered the shocked silence like a hamr through glass.
Seraphina stood there, mouth hanging open, completely bewildered. "Your Majesty, I didn’t—I never said it was—"
The servants exchanged glances that clearly said ’did she just—did the Empress just—’
Even the guards looked confused, unsure whether to laugh or maintain their professional composure.
And Larus—
Larus tried. He really tried to maintain his dignity, his composure, his imperial bearing.
His lips pressed together firmly, trembling with the effort to contain himself.
His shoulders shook slightly.
His eyes watered.
And then he completely lost it.
"HAHAHAHA!" He burst into genuine, uncontrollable laughter, doubling over slightly, one hand on his stomach. "HAHAHA—oh gods—I can’t—HAHAHAHA!"
He wiped tears from his eyes, still laughing, trying to catch his breath.
"I know—" he gasped between laughs, "—I know, Your Majesty—it’s not yours—HAHAHA—oh that was—that was perfect—"
Heena looked at him, then at Seraphina, then at the assembled crowd of shocked servants and guards.
She took a deep breath, visibly composing herself, and said with complete seriousness:
"And YOU—" she pointed at Seraphina, "—you damn... woman! Are you here to destroy my marriage?!"
Everyone stared at her.
"Listen carefully," Heena continued, her voice rising. "I am NOT interested in you romantically, physically, or in any other capacity! No matter what you say, this child is NOT mine! I will never accept responsibility for it! I don’t care what kind of twisted narrative you’re trying to create—"
"Your Majesty, I never said—" Seraphina tried to interject, looking genuinely confused now.
"I am NOT interested in becoming this child’s godmother!" Heena steamrolled over her protests. "I am NOT adopting any children! I am perfectly capable of having my own children if and when I choose to! This has NOTHING to do with !"
She spun on her heel, grabbed Larus’s hand again.
"We’re leaving. NOW. Goodbye."
She took exactly one step forward.
"IT’S ONE OF THE CONSORTS!"
Seraphina’s voice rang out, desperate and loud.
’BAM.’
It was like soone had detonated a silence bomb.
The shocked quiet from before was ’nothing’ compared to this.
This was the kind of silence that descends when the world stops making sense. When reality itself seems to pause and reconsider its life choices.
Every single person in that corridor—servants, guards, nobles, everyone—went absolutely rigid.
Heena stopped mid-step.
She turned around very, very slowly, and this ti her expression was completely different. No annoyance. No exasperation. No humor.
Just cold. Absolutely frigid.
"What," she said quietly, each word precisely enunciated, "did you just say?"
Seraphina trembled, but she held her ground, tears still streaming down her face.
"Your Majesty," she said, her voice shaking but determined, "forgive for speaking so boldly, but... the child I carry... it’s one of the imperial consorts’."
Heena walked toward her with asured, controlled steps that sohow felt more threatening than if she’d charged forward in rage.
She stopped directly in front of Seraphina, reached out, and grabbed her by the throat.
Not choking—not yet—but her hand was wrapped firmly around Seraphina’s neck, her grip a clear threat.
"Listen to very, ’very’ carefully," Heena said, her voice dropping to sothing dangerous and quiet. "Before you say another word—before you make another accusation—think ’very carefully’ about what you’re claiming. Because if you’re lying, if this is so kind of manipulation or sche—"
Her grip tightened slightly.
"—I will kill you myself. Right here. Right now. Consequences be damned."
Seraphina’s eyes were wide with fear, but she looked directly at Heena and said with surprising firmness:
"I speak the truth, Your Majesty. If I lie, you can kill right now. I swear it on my life."
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