Return of Black Lotus system:Taming Cheating Male Leads-Chapter 128 --

She demonstrated the exact angle.

"When Her Majesty extends her hand, you will take it with your right hand only, supporting it from beneath, never gripping from above. When walking, your steps must be measured—not too fast, not too slow. When sitting, you will wait for Her Majesty to sit first, then take your seat with your back straight, hands folded in your lap."

The instructions continued.

And continued.

And continued.By the time Countess Ronin finally left—three hours later—Larus felt like his brain had been stuffed with a thousand tiny rules about how to stand, sit, walk, gesture, smile, and breathe properly.

He collapsed onto his bed with a groan.

"How does anyone survive this?" he muttered to himself.

One of his personal servants—a young woman named Mira who’d come with him from Marus—poked her head in.

"Your Highness? Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," Larus said, staring at the ceiling. "Just... questioning all my life choices."

Mira giggled. "The Countess is known for being strict."

"Strict?" Larus sat up. "She’s terrifying! I’ve faced enemy soldiers with more mercy!"

"But you handled it well," Mira said encouragingly. "You were very polite."

"I wanted to throw jewelry at her," Larus admitted.

Mira laughed. "Your Highness!"

Larus sighed, then smiled. "But it’s fine. It’s all part of this. If I want to be a proper consort, I need to learn."

He looked at the pile of scrolls the Countess had left—detailed instructions for every moment of the ceremony.

"Besides," he added, his smile turning more genuine, "Her Majesty is giving me everything I asked for. The least I can do is make sure this ceremony is perfect for her."

Mira smiled warmly. "You really care about her, don’t you?"

Larus was quiet for a moment, then said softly, "I respect her. I admire her. And I want to be worthy of the trust she’s placing in me."

"That’s not quite the same as love," Mira observed.

"No," Larus agreed. "But maybe it’s better. Love can fade. Respect and partnership can last."

He stood up, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

"Now, let’s practice these bows again. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it perfectly."

And for the next several hours, until deep into the night, Larus practiced every gesture, every movement, every detail.

Because he understood something important:

This ceremony wasn’t just about him. It was Heena’s statement to the empire about his value.

And he wasn’t going to let her down.

.

.

The night had settled over the palace like a dark velvet curtain, and Heena’s office was lit only by the warm glow of candles and a single oil lamp on her desk.

She wasn’t sitting at the desk.

She was on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, a cooling cup of coffee held loosely in her hand, gaze fixed on the woman standing in front of her with the flat, measured attention of someone deciding how long this needed to take.

Countess Ronin Marlowe stood between two guards, trembling slightly, trying very hard to look composed and failing. Her eyes darted around the room—the walls, the guards, the door she’d come through—as if calculating escape routes. She genuinely could not understand what had happened. One moment she had been leaving Prince Larus’s chambers after offering some "helpful guidance" about proper attire, the next she’d been escorted here by imperial order.

Heena took a slow sip of her coffee, watching the woman squirm.

Then she set down the cup with a soft ’clink’.

"Countess," she said pleasantly, "are you my mother?"

The countess blinked. "I—no, Your Majesty—"

"My aunt? A relative by blood? Part of the royal line in any capacity I may have forgotten?"

"No, Your Majesty."

Heena nodded thoughtfully. "Mm. Then you must be Prince Larus’s mother. Or a close relative of his?"

"No, Your Majesty, I—"

"His sworn protector, perhaps? Someone to whom he owes a life debt? A guardian appointed by the Marus royal family?"

The countess shook her head frantically.

Heena tilted her head, her expression almost curious. "Then perhaps you’re someone of such extraordinary importance that basic court protocol doesn’t apply to you? A visiting foreign dignitary I somehow forgot about?"

"No, Your Majesty, I’m simply—"

"A tutor," Heena finished. Her voice, which had been conversationally pleasant up until this point, dropped to something cold and quiet. "A tutor who was dismissed after one day because you spent six hours explaining to a ten-year-old empress that her posture while eating grapes was ’unbecoming of her station.’"

The countess went pale.

"So tell me," Heena continued, leaning forward slightly, "who exactly are you, Countess Marlowe, to walk into my fiancé’s chambers uninvited and tell him what he may and may not wear to ’his own engagement ceremony?’"

"Your Majesty, I—my family has served this court for generations," the countess stammered. "We have tutored noble children, guided young royals in matters of etiquette and presentation. My credentials are well established. I only thought to offer guidance—"

"Guidance," Heena repeated flatly. "You told him his jewelry was ’excessive and unbecoming.’ You suggested he wear something ’more subdued and appropriate.’ You implied that his personal style was somehow embarrassing to the imperial court."

The countess’s mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"I—I apologize if I caused any offense to Prince Larus," she managed. "I believed it to be appropriate given the circumstances—"

"What circumstances?" Heena asked sharply.

"Well, Your Majesty, he is entering an already established—that is, there are already five consorts, and propriety would suggest—"

"Ah." Heena stood slowly, setting her coffee cup on the side table with deliberate care. "So you thought that because Prince Larus is the sixth consort, he should dress like a servant trying not to upset his masters?"

She walked toward the countess with the unhurried ease of a predator that had already decided the hunt was over.

"Let me clarify something for you, Countess. Prince Larus is not entering this marriage as an afterthought or a political compromise. He is my ’chosen’ primary consort. He will hold the title of Emperor Consort. He will have authority over half this empire."

She stopped directly in front of the woman.

"And if he wants to wear every piece of jewelry in the imperial treasury at once, he will do so, and you will smile and compliment his excellent taste."

The countess was shaking now.

Heena placed one hand gently on her shoulder—the gesture almost kind, which somehow made it more terrifying.

"Countess," she said softly, "I did not want to bring you here tonight. I genuinely respect what your family has contributed to this court. Tutor families, scholar families, military families—they all have their place and their worth."

She patted the shoulder.

"But you need to understand something clearly. It does not matter if you are a tutor, a general, a grand duke, or the head of the oldest house in this empire. ’No one’—and I mean this with complete sincerity—has any authority over my people without my explicit permission. Not their clothing, not their habits, not their choices, not their time, not a single strand of their hair."

She let the words settle, then leaned in closer.

"Now, I could have you stripped of your position. I could have your family’s tutoring license revoked. I could ensure that no noble house in this empire ever hires a Marlowe again."

The countess looked like she might faint. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"But I won’t," Heena continued pleasantly. "Because I’m not a tyrant, and your family ’has’ served well. So instead, I’ll give you a choice."