Heena looked absolutely perfect, completely ready to step out and ruin so lives. But just as she reached for the doorfra, she suddenly paused. She looked over her shoulder at Samuel, her expression shifting back to pure business.
"Did you do what I asked you to do?" she demanded.
Samuel nodded smoothly, stepping forward. "I did."
"So?" Heena asked, her eyes narrowing in anticipation. "Is there so sort of large function or gathering happening at the Marquis’s estate soon?"
Samuel shook his head slightly. "There is, but not for another week. Until then, there is nothing special going on. Just their usual daily routine. However, exactly one week from today, they are hosting a massive, grand celebration for your parents’ anniversary."
Heena paused, digesting the information. A slow, terrifyingly brilliant smile spread across her lips. "Okay."
With that, she abruptly spun on her heel and marched right back toward the changing room.
The System taphorically tripped over its own code. ’[Host?! What are you doing?]’
’Changing my dress, obviously,’ Heena replied casually, already reaching for the delicate clasps of her shawl.
’[Wait, wait, wait!]’ the System shrieked, thoroughly bewildered. ’[You spent two solid hours getting ready! You spent a fortune of Samuel’s money on that dress and makeup! And you aren’t even going to go play your part today?!]’
Heena paused, looking at the empty air as if the System were completely deranged. ’Are you crazy? I spent an exorbitant amount of money, ti, and effort on this look. Why on earth would I waste it on a quiet, peaceful afternoon where no one is around to see ?’
She carefully began removing the stunning black silk. ’The only way to get my money’s worth is to make an entrance when the stakes are at their absolute highest. A grand anniversary celebration with all the capital’s nobles in attendance? Now THAT is a stage. I’ll just jump in and crash the party next week.’
The System stared at her in stunned silence for a long mont before letting out a heavy, defeated sigh. ’[You are the most frustrating, useless person I have ever seen.]’
’Thanks for the complint, babe,’ Heena purred ntally, entirely unfazed by the insult.
A few minutes later, she erged from the fitting room again. Gone was the breathtaking serpent queen. Instead, she was dressed in a dark, simple, and highly practical n’s outfit, her hair tied up tight and hidden perfectly under a muted cloth cap.
’[And what is this for?]’ the System asked helplessly, watching her adjust the dark sleeves. ’[What are we doing tonight?]’
’Scouting,’ Heena replied practically, adjusting the collar. ’I need to map out the estate and gather intel under the cover of darkness. I don’t want to get caught by chance before my big debut.’
Samuel, who had been patiently waiting by the door, looked her up and down in her new, stealthy male disguise. A slow, amused smile touched his lips as he took in the rough-and-tumble look. "Well. I must say, wife... you look quite handso."
Heena shot him a flat, entirely unimpressed look as she strapped a small utility belt to her waist. "If you are going to complint , at least learn how to praise a woman properly."
The System was still pouting quietly in her mind. ’[Well, fine,]’ it thought. ’[I don’t get to see a dramatic, life-ruining show today, but that’s okay. At least I get to sightsee. The capital is quite handso.]’
But the System had made a massive, fatal error. It had montarily forgotten exactly who it was dealing with. It had just called Heena "useless," and Heena was a profoundly spiteful person. She never, ’ever’ let an insult slide. Her personal philosophy was incredibly simple: if you throw a small rock at her, she will throw you off a mountain.
She knew perfectly well how badly the System wanted to spectate their trip through the capital. So, right before she even stepped foot past the parlor’s doorstep, she paused.
A sickeningly sweet, entirely unnatural smile blood on her face. ’System?’ she called out in her mind.
Hearing that sugary tone, a sudden jolt of sheer panic spiked through the AI’s code. ’[Y-yes, Host?]’
’System Shutdown Mode: On,’ Heena commanded flawlessly.
’[Wait, what?! No, what is going on—]’
Before it could even finish its digital scream of protest, the System was violently yanked offline, plunged into a forced, thirty-minute blackout. And the absolute best part? Heena knew that after the thirty minutes were up, the System’s processing core would be completely groggy, lagging, and sluggish. For the next four hours, her annoying little companion was going to be completely and utterly useless.
"Ah. Peace and quiet," Heena scoffed in deep satisfaction.
She adjusted the brim of her dark cap and finally stepped out into the bustling, vibrant streets of the capital.
It was, undeniably, a beautiful city. Wide, ticulously paved avenues stretched out in every direction, lined with towering, multi-story pavilions decorated with intricate wood carvings and bright red lanterns. The air slled of roasted ats, expensive incense, and the sweet perfu of the passing nobles. She seamlessly blended into the crowd in her male disguise, casually buying a few skewers of street food as she walked, letting Seera’s mories guide her toward the Marquis estate’s territory.
It was a breathtaking tropolis, far grander than any rural town she had been in recently. But as Heena narrowed her eyes, observing the heavily ard guards shoving commoners out of the way to make room for a passing noble’s carriage, she noted the grim reality hiding just beneath the surface.
The capital was beautiful, yes. But the difference was, beneath all that glittering wealth, painted silk, and poetic romance, it was still just a massive, blood-soaked arena. It was a gilded cage built entirely on the backs of the powerless, where the strong ate the weak without a second thought.
And Heena, chewing on a piece of spiced at as she finally spotted the towering, golden gates of her target in the distance, was incredibly hungry.
A few streets away, sitting at the very heart of the aristocratic district, the sprawling Marquis estate lood in the darkness.
From the outside, it projected an image of absolute, untouchable authority. Massive, heavy wooden doors lacquered in deep crimson stood tightly shut, guarded by stone lions and a line of elite, unsmiling guards. Above the entrance, an imposing gold-leaf plaque proudly bore the title of the Marquis.
Inside, it was a vast, traditional labyrinth of wealth. The compound was divided into nurous interconnected courtyards, elegant pavilions, and private quarters, all separated by perfectly manicured gardens and winding stone paths.
But despite the sheer luxury, there was sothing deeply wrong with the atmosphere.
In the grand dining hall, a lavish feast was taking place. The heavy mahogany table groaned under the weight of expensive delicacies—roasted duck, spiced lotus roots, and pitchers of premium, aged wine. Sitting around the table was the core family: the Marquis, his wife, and the adopted young n they had raised as grooms.
One of the sons leaned forward, waving his ivory chopsticks as he recounted an amusing story from the royal court. The Marquis threw his head back and laughed heartily, the sound booming through the hall, while the Marchioness smiled elegantly, sipping her wine. They looked like the perfect, happy, thriving aristocratic family.
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