Chapter 453: Chapter-453
Twenty Minutes Later: The Back Alley
A completely plain, weathered carriage was waiting at the estate’s secluded rear exit.
Heena stepped out of the back door, and Naya could only stare in sheer disbelief. Thanks to expertly applied theatrical makeup, Heena’s pristine, porcelain skin now looked slightly tanned and weathered. Her long, silky hair was tightly wound into a strict, messy servant’s bun. She had contoured her jawline to look sharper and more masculine, effectively concealing her breathtaking beauty.
"My lady..." Naya groaned, looking her up and down. "You look... like a beggar. A proper, low-life beggar."
Heena rolled her eyes. "It’s called a perfect disguise, Naya. I look like a regular errand boy."
The carriage driver, a young, naive novice Naya had hired off the street to ensure no family guards would recognize them, leaned down from his bench. "Where to, little brother?" he asked, completely fooled.
Before Naya could stop her, Heena hopped onto the carriage box right next to the driver. With a boisterous, rough laugh, she threw her arm heavily around the driver’s neck, squeezing him tight.
"Come on, big brother!" Heena boomed in a perfectly pitch-lowered, cheerful male voice, slapping the driver’s shoulder. "Let’s go and enjoy the city! I just got my monthly salary, so let’s hit the main thoroughfare!"
Naya’s head began to spin violently as she watched the carriage rattle away. She felt her knees go weak. ’’What kind of noble lady behaves like this?!’’ she screamed internally. If the Imperial Court ever found out that the elegant, highly anticipated heir of the Marquisate family was currently acting like a rowdy street thug and hugging random carriage drivers, the entire Marquisate would be drowned in public shame!
The novice driver grinned, his chest puffing out slightly at the sudden camaraderie. "Alright then, little brother! Hang on tight!" He cracked the whip, and the plain carriage rattled down the cobblestone streets, leaving a thoroughly traumatized Naya standing in the dust of the back alley.
As the carriage jolted toward the bustling heart of the capital, Heena leaned back against the wooden bench, her eyes scanning the passing crowds. The street boy persona was easy to slip into; muscle memory from her previous lives made adapting to any social strata second nature.
"Hey, brother," Heena said, lowering her pitch to that perfect, slightly raspy adolescent male register. She nudged the driver with her elbow. "The imperial banquet is tonight, right? Must be a lot of rich folks crowding the main gates of the palace."
"Oh, you bet," the driver replied, keeping his eyes on the road. "All the grand carriages are already lining up near the thoroughfare. Security is tighter than a drum. Commoners like us can’t even get within three blocks of the outer wall."
"Perfect," Heena muttered under her breath, a sharp glint passing through her eyes.
A high-profile event like the Imperial Banquet meant absolute chaos behind the scenes. Hundreds of noble families bringing their own retinues, personal servants, and specialized chefs—the back entrances of the palace would be a logistical nightmare of supply crates and hurried hand-overs. For someone with her training, an environment like that wasn’t a barrier; it was a map with a hundred open doors.
She needed to see what the Seventh Prince was playing at on his home turf. More importantly, she needed to see who he was interacting with when he thought no one was looking. If he really was a Regressor utilizing future knowledge to systematically dismantle the military factions, his moves tonight would be crucial.
"Drop me off near the eastern marketplace close to the palace boundary," Heena told the driver, tossing a silver coin into his lap with a casual flick of her wrist. "Keep the change for a drink later."
The driver’s eyes widened at the sight of the high-quality silver. "Whoa! You really did get a good salary, little brother. You got it, eastern market it is!"
Ten minutes later, the carriage pulled up into a crowded, chaotic alleyway smelling of roasted meats and cheap ale. Heena hopped down seamlessly, blending right into the sea of merchants, laborers, and low-ranking servants hurrying about their duties.
She adjusted the rough fabric of her vest, ensuring her hidden daggers were securely fastened beneath the loose cloth. Stepping out of the alley, she looked up at the towering, white stone walls of the Imperial Palace in the distance, sparkling under the afternoon sun.
’[Host,]’ the System’s voice chimed quietly in her mind, still sounding a little subdued from its earlier embarrassment. ’[The back gate for the Imperial Kitchens is exactly four hundred meters ahead. There is a shift change for the ingredient haulers in exactly five minutes. But... are you sure about doing this alone? Without Naya or... Samuel?]’
’’Samuel is currently getting the stuffing beaten out of him by grandfather, which is exactly where he needs to be,’’ Heena thought, a cold smirk touching her lips as she walked forward with a lazy, loose-shouldered stride. ’’As for Naya, she’s too recognizable to the palace guards. Alone is efficient. Let’s see what kind of face the sickly Seventh Prince makes when his script gets flipped inside his own home.’’
Heena slipped through the crowd, her movements completely natural as she approached the bustling rear entrance of the Imperial Kitchens. Huge wooden crates filled with rare fruits, fresh meats, and expensive wines were being hauled off heavy wagons by sweating workers. Palace guards, looking bored and overwhelmed by the sheer volume of deliveries, were half-heartedly checking manifests.
With a swift, practiced movement, Heena grabbed a large, heavy crate of winter melons from the back of an unattended wagon. She hoisted it onto her shoulder, deliberately letting her posture slouch to look shorter and more ordinary.
"Hey! You there! Shift three?" a loud, stressed voice barked from the doorway. A portly head chef with flour on his apron was waving his arms wildly. "Bring those inside! The soup courses are already behind schedule!"
"Right away, chief!" Heena called out in her rough, pitch-lowered boyish voice. She ducked her head, marching right past the guards.
The moment she stepped into the massive, echoing stone corridors of the palace kitchens, the overwhelming heat and the deafening noise of clanging pots washed over her. Dozens of servants were rushing in every direction like ants in a disturbed nest.
Heena dumped the crate onto a wooden table near the prep station, wiping her tanner, makeup-stained forehead with the sleeve of her rough shirt. While pretending to stretch her aching back, her dark eyes swept the room, taking in every exit, every guard patrol, and every servant’s uniform.
’[Host,]’ the System whispered inside her mind, its digital signal pulsing faintly to avoid detection by any high-level mages in the palace. ’[The Seventh Prince’s personal pavilion is located on the north side of the inner palace. But according to the Imperial schedule, all royal family members are currently gathered in the Grand Mirror Hall to receive the early arriving high nobles.]’
’’Then that’s where we’re going,’’ Heena thought, a cold, sharp glint passing through her eyes. ’’A crowded, glittering hall is the best place to watch a snake move.’’
She casually walked over to a row of hanging linen garments near the staff washrooms. With fluid, silent grace, she swiped a crisp, clean white tunic and a silver tray belonging to the high-tier banquet servers—the ones permitted to enter the main hall to serve wine to the nobility.
Comments