The Emperor's fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest of his mahogany chair. The sharp thud, thud, thud was the only sound in the suffocatingly quiet study.
He looked down at the young general kneeling before him, the heavy imperial aura receding just a fraction of an inch.
"I will not kill you," the Emperor finally stated, his voice carrying the absolute, unyielding weight of a royal decree. "You can live exactly as you are, Vanguard Madam."
But instead of weeping with gratitude for this imperial grace, Heena slowly shook her head.
"No, Your Majesty," Heena replied softly, yet with a terrifying, unshakeable certainty. "My death is absolutely essential."
The Emperor's rhythmic tapping abruptly stopped. He raised a royal eyebrow, the sheer unpredictability of this woman completely paralyzing his political instincts.
Heena looked up, meeting his gaze with a cold, pragmatic clarity that was entirely devoid of fear.
