Chapter 461: Chapter-461
But here? Its completely different like day and night , dancers and the musicians were breathing together. The moment the live instruments flared, the women looked less like they were performing steps and more like they were literally floating on the air.
In her past lives, Heena had always assumed that modern ballet was the absolute peak of human physical endurance. The sheer discipline required to spin and jump on your toes was insane.
But watching these imperial dancers, she realized she had vastly underestimated traditional arts. When these women leapt into the air, their landings were completely silent—not a single destabilized movement, not a fraction of a second out of rhythm. Every gesture was fluid, yet packed with an underlying core strength that could rival a martial artist’s. It was completely seamless.
*’Now I get why people say old is gold,’* Heena mused, a look of genuine appreciation softening her sharp phoenix eyes as she took a slow sip of her wine. *’This is a thousand times tougher than anything choreographed in the modern world.’*
Even the rowdy generals at her table fell into a brief, respectful hush, nodding along to the heavy cadence of the drums. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of spiced meats, rich vintage wine, and the roaring energy of a true imperial celebration.
*[Host,]* the System’s voice broke into her thoughts, its digital frequency hushed. *[The first major dance number is coming to an end. The court protocol dictates that the royal family will lead the next major toast once the floor clears.]*
Heena’s soft smile sharpened instantly, the warmth leaving her gaze as her eyes locked back onto the elevated dais. The Seventh Prince was sitting up slightly straighter now, his hand casually drifting back toward the handle of his golden chalice.
The stage was set, the performance was ending, and the real curtain was about to rise.
As the final chord of the music resonated through the hall, a thunderous wave of applause erupted from every corner of the Grand Mirror Hall. The dancers bowed gracefully, their movements fluid as they began to exit the floor.
Heena watched them closely, genuinely impressed by the flawless display of imperial tradition. The dancers didn’t turn around or show their backs to the Emperor; instead, they flawlessly glided backward, navigating the crowded marble floor in those long, heavy, frilled silk dresses without a single stumble. *’Now that,’* Heena thought, *’takes an insane amount of spatial awareness and balance. Pure artistry.’*
With the floor cleared, the high stewards stepped forward once more, signaling the arrival of the next course and a fresh round of vintage wine.
Heena kept her posture relaxed, her gaze seemingly drifting across the room toward the ladies’ section where her grandmother sat. But out of the corner of her sharp phoenix eyes, her focus was entirely locked onto the Seventh Prince.
Suddenly, her pulse spiked.
A royal attendant had stepped up to the Prince’s seat, reaching out to clear away his untouched golden chalice to replace it with a fresh glass. If that cup was taken away, her entire counter-plot would vanish down a palace drain.
But right before the servant could lift the chalice, the Seventh Prince raised a frail hand, stopping the attendant with a quiet murmur. He kept his original cup right where it was.
Heena let out a slow, imperceptible breath, her lips curving ever so slightly. *’Hook, line, and sinker.’*
At the same time, a server approached Heena’s table, pouring a fresh, dark crimson vintage into her goblet. She picked it up, casually swirling the rich liquid against the golden rim, her eyes fixed on the royal dais as the Emperor stood up, his massive frame commanding absolute silence across the hall.
"Today, I am profoundly happy," the Emperor announced, his booming voice echoing with sincere pride. "This is not merely a routine banquet. Tonight, we celebrate the fact that our generals—even after all these years on the brutal frontiers—remain an unyielding wall capable of throwing our enemies back into the dirt!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, and the Emperor raised his glass directly toward the military table, locking eyes with the old Marquis. "And for that, I must thank my oldest comrade from the very bottom of my heart. Thanks to his iron resolve, the citizens of this empire can sleep peacefully and live without fear for years to come. To the Marcuset family!"
"To the Marcuset family!" the hall thundered in response.
The Emperor raised his cup high and took a deep, commanding sip. Across the room, every noble, scholar, and warlord followed suit, lifting their chalices to their lips. Heena raised her glass with flawless, aristocratic grace, tilting it back as she drank the pristine, untouched vintage.
And on the elevated dais, the Seventh Prince finally lifted his golden chalice, a mask of sickly humility on his pale face as he took a slow, deep sip of his own meticulously prepared poison.
Watching the liquid disappear down his throat, Heena let out a cold, venomous smirk.
It wasn’t a crude, fast-acting toxin. A messy, instant death where someone spat blood and collapsed onto the floor within seconds would immediately cause a panic and trigger a massive investigation—effectively screaming to the entire palace that a murder had just taken place. A master regressor like him would never use something so unrefined.
No, this specific poison was a slow, agonizing burn. It was designed to mimic a sudden, catastrophic internal illness over the next few hours, leaving absolutely zero trace of foul play.
Heena leaned back in her chair, the dark mascara making her phoenix eyes look utterly terrifying as she watched the unsuspecting Prince set his empty cup down. *’The countdown has started, Your Highness,’* she thought, a brutal, silent laughter echoing in her mind. *’Let’s see how well your future knowledge saves you when your own masterpiece starts tearing you apart from the inside.’*
Suddenly, a young lady stood up from the royal table. She offered a tight, calculated bow toward the throne and said, "Father, this daughter has something to say."
Heena’s sharp gaze instantly locked onto her. *’Isn’t this the Second Princess of the Empire?’* she thought, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Even though a princess should technically be cherished as a jewel of the empire, it was an open secret that the Emperor held very little love for this particular daughter. The reason was entirely simple: she was the daughter of a low-ranking concubine, not the Empress. The court treated her more like an afterthought than royalty, which made her sudden, bold interruption quite strange. Heena made a mental note to drag some more palace history and gossip out of her grandfather later.
The Emperor looked down at the Second Princess, his face a perfectly calm, unreadable mask. "What is it?" he asked, his deep voice carrying no warmth.
The Princess bowed slightly lower, a subtle, sharp glint in her eyes as she gestured across the hall. "Father, the Marcuset family has done such a tremendous service for our borders, and this entire magnificent banquet is being celebrated in their honor. Wouldn’t it be far more entertaining and fitting if the newly revealed heiress..."
Comments