She stood up, composing herself.
"Besides," she added, "I don’t have fifty more portraits to sacrifice. And I actually need the council to function occasionally, not just provide entertainnt."
"Understandable, Your Majesty."
"Now," Heena said, "I have actual work to do. Real work. The kind that doesn’t involve ink-covered nobles and chandelier acrobatics."
"The pregnancy scandal investigation reports are ready for your review," Secretary Chen said, pulling out a thick stack of docunts.
Heena sighed. "Right. Back to normal disasters."
But as she settled in to review the reports, she couldn’t help the small smile that remained on her face.
Because today—today had been ’perfect’.
Chaotic, ridiculous, completely undignified, and absolutely perfect.
And sowhere in the palace, Lord Pemberton was probably telling everyone who’d listen about how he’d won the Great Council Chamber Battle by climbing a chandelier.
Which, honestly, he deserved to brag about.
That was genuinely impressive for a man his age.
Heena made a ntal note to find out what training regin he followed.
Because if she was still that capable at seventy-three, she’d be unstoppable.
Not that she wasn’t already, but still.
Always room for improvent.
.
.
.
In the evening....
For those wondering why Heena was still in her office at this ungodly hour: because this is literally the only place where actual CEOs and big shots reside the whole ti.
Yeah, that’s the truth. No matter what anyone says.
Heena had been in this office from morning to noon to evening, and now night was falling. She’d been running on nothing but coffee and sheer stubbornness for hours.
But her exhaustion had just been completely cured.
Why?
Because she was staring at the docunt in her hand with an expression of complete and utter disbelief.
"Secretary Chen," she said slowly, "are you ’sure’ this information is correct?"
Secretary Chen nodded with his characteristic deadpan expression. "Well, Your Majesty, as long as I am as educated as I claim to be, I don’t think I’ve gotten it wrong."
Heena continued staring at the paper.
Okay. Listen.
She had to admit it: her aunt was an absolute ’baddy’. Like, Heena knew the Duchess was powerful. She knew her aunt was a legendary diplomat. She knew she was the Empress’s adopted sister and had connections throughout the empire.
But ’what the actual fuck?’
Let Heena explain the situation:
When ’she’—the ’Empress’, the sovereign ruler of the entire empire—wanted to summon the fathers of the five male leads to the capital, she had to send them official notices. Formal invitations. Imperial summons with seals and everything.
And if she was ’lucky’, they would reply within a week.
Maybe two weeks.
These were powerful n from ancient families who didn’t answer to anyone quickly. They took their ti. They deliberated. They made the ’Empress’ wait because they could.
But her aunt?
Her aunt had sent letters ’yesterday’.
YESTERDAY.
And not only had all five patriarchs already replied—they’d replied saying they were ’coming tomorrow’.
Not "we’ll consider it."
Not "we’ll check our schedules."
Just "yes, we’re coming."
Imdiately.
Without question.
And according to the shadow guards’ intelligence reports, these bastards hadn’t just replied—they’d already ’left’ their estates. They’d packed. They’d traveled. They were already ’here’, in the capital, as of about an hour ago.
They could have entered the palace imdiately.
But no.
They were on a ’shopping spree’.
Because they wanted to "look their best" before seeing the Duchess.
’WHAT. THE. FUCK.’
Okay, so listen. For those who think Heena is overreacting: these are the male leads’ ’fathers’. The patriarchs of ancient noble families. n who’ve held power for decades.
And the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
If the male leads—Kieran, Adrian, Damien, Raphael, Lucian—were difficult, arrogant bastards (and they absolutely were), it was because of these n’s genetics and upbringing.
So you can already guess that if the male leads were bad from Heena’s perspective, their fathers were like... concentrated essence of bastard. Bastard squared. Maximum bastard.
These were n who made ’emperors’ negotiate carefully.
And yet they’d just... imdiately agreed to co? No hesitation? No demands? No conditions?
For the Duchess?
Heena had known her aunt was beautiful when she was young. She’d seen the old portraits. She knew the Duchess had been legendary.
But ’still’.
This didn’t make sense.
She needed answers.
Heena reached into her desk and pulled out a crystal communication orb—a magical artifact her aunt had given her that allowed them to communicate instantly whenever needed.
She activated it, and after a mont, her aunt’s face appeared in the swirling mist inside the crystal.
The Duchess was reclining in what looked like a luxurious bath, her hair wrapped in a towel, cucumber slices on her eyes, clearly in the middle of a spa treatnt.
"Aunt," Heena said urgently, "I need to ask you sothing—"
The Duchess ’scoffed’.
Actually scoffed.
She didn’t even remove the cucumber slices from her eyes.
"Oh, yeah, yeah, I thought you’d call," she said dismissively, waving one hand languidly. "The patriarchs replied quickly, didn’t they? Good. Everything’s proceeding as planned."
"Aunt, ’how’—" Heena started.
"Now don’t disturb ," the Duchess interrupted. "I’m in the middle of my evening spa routine. The volcanic mud mask needs another twenty minutes to set, and if you make talk too much, it’ll crack."
"But—"
"We’ll discuss it tomorrow when they arrive. Now shoo. Go do empress things. I’m busy being beautiful."
The crystal went dark.
Heena stared at it in disbelief.
Her aunt had just... dismissed her. Hung up on her. The ’Empress’.
To continue her ’spa treatnt’.
Secretary Chen, who’d been watching this entire exchange, coughed quietly to cover a laugh.
Heena turned to look at Secretary Chen in a slow, chanical way.
Her eyes were completely flat. Her expression was dead neutral.
"Laughing, huh?" she said in a voice devoid of all emotion. "You have so much ti to laugh. So much energy. How wonderful."
Secretary Chen’s smile didn’t falter.
In fact, it got ’wider’.
Because he knew ’exactly’ what was coming.
"Secretary Chen," Heena said, still in that flat, emotionless voice, "go and get all the docunts related to the Elven Kingdom. Everything. Census records, trade agreents, diplomatic correspondence, cultural histories. All of it."
Secretary Chen’s expression shifted into sothing stubborn and knowing.
"Your Majesty," he said slowly, "the Elven Kingdom was destroyed two hundred years ago. The archives are in the flooded sub-basent that hasn’t been accessed in half a century. There are probably rats. Definitely mold. The docunts will be water-damaged and illegible."
"And yet I want them," Heena said sweetly.
"But ’why’, Your Majesty?" Secretary Chen pressed, his tone making it absolutely clear he knew the answer but was going to make her say it.
Heena’s eye twitched slightly.
"Because I want them," she repeated.
"For what purpose?" Secretary Chen continued, his voice taking on an infuriatingly patient tone. "What specific information are you seeking from two-hundred-year-old docunts about a destroyed kingdom?"
"Secretary Chen—"
"I’m simply trying to understand the scope of the research request, Your Majesty," he said with mock innocence. "So I can be as efficient as possible in fulfilling your ’completely legitimate’ work assignnt."
The sarcasm on those last three words was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Heena glared at him.
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