Captured by the Desert Tyrant (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 5
At noon, when the sun stood highest in the sky, Hades entered the tent clad in a black robe. He held out an extra robe tucked under his arm to Latifa.
“Throw away that rag you’re wearing and put this on.”
The black robe, edged with silver thread, bore no distinctive patterns, yet its soft sheen alone made its quality unmistakably luxurious.
Only then did Latifa look down at her own clothes and see nothing but a filthy, tattered scrap unworthy of being called attire.
How disheveled must she have looked for him to bring her fresh clothing? Latifa accepted it carefully and spoke in a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.
“…Th-thank you.”
She tried hard not to meet Hades’s eyes as she stood up to drape the robe over herself.
“Ugh!”
‘Ah, my leg!’
When she absentmindedly stepped forward, pain surged through her, causing Latifa to stagger briefly. Hades quickly reached out to steady her hand.
“N-no!”
But Latifa, startled by the sudden approach of the man’s dark hand, instinctively flinched away without thinking. Losing her balance, she tumbled heavily back onto the cot.
“Ugh!”
“You truly are a high-maintenance woman.”
Latifa flushed at Hades’s light, teasing tone, which seemed to mock her. She felt embarrassed for having overreacted so sensitively and fallen over for no reason.
‘Wouldn’t it be stranger not to be frightened in this situation?’
She scrambled up as if nothing had happened and carefully lifted her foot again to put on the robe.
Hades, standing before her, let out a small sigh and slowly extended his hand.
“We don’t have much time, so don’t push me away this time.”
Looking at the large palm offered before her, Latifa had to admit one thing: without his help, she couldn’t properly stand, let alone dress herself.
Reluctantly, she slowly reached out her small, slender hand. Seeing it tremble slightly, Hades asked,
“Are you afraid of this hand—the one that destroyed your homeland?”
“…It would be a lie to say I’m not afraid.”
“Honest. And reckless.”
“Besides, you’re keeping me as an example, aren’t you?”
“An example?”
“You’re setting me apart to punish me because I deceived you, aren’t you?”
The most effective way to control numerous prisoners was to keep someone like oneself as an example nearby. Otherwise, there was no reason Hades would go out of his way to travel with her—a burdensome, injured captive.
Hades chuckled softly in agreement.
“Precisely. So, wouldn’t you do well to obey my words?”
‘As expected of the Mad Dog. My guess was right.’
“If following you closely ensures the other prisoners’ safety, I have no reason not to comply.”
Her words carried neither complete submission nor open defiance. Though once a fallen imperial princess, Latifa had learned basic courtly eloquence in the palace and now used it to full effect.
Even as a prisoner of a defeated nation, she refused to grovel before Hades, the enemy commander.
That was the last shred of pride she held as an imperial princess.
“Then can you take this hand without trembling? We’re short on time.”
It was a question posed as if testing her.
Could she grasp it without shaking? Of course. For her people, this much was nothing.
Latifa took a deep breath.
“If that is what you desire—and if it benefits us all—then I will gladly do so.”
She stretched out her pale hand and placed it firmly atop his dark one. Not stopping there, she tightly clasped his hand first.
Hades, seemingly unprepared for her to take the initiative and grip his hand so firmly, gave a faint, involuntary twitch.
Sensing his slight flinch, Latifa felt a flicker of triumph and lifted one corner of her lips into a confident smile.
**
Outside the tent, numerous soldiers already stood in orderly ranks, ready to march, while the rest bustled about, packing the remaining supplies.
But when Latifa and Hades emerged from the tent, several busy soldiers froze in place, staring blankly at them.
It was because Latifa was limping out, tightly clutching Hades’s hand.
“Isn’t that General Hades?”
“Who’s that person he’s supporting?”
“C-could she be from the Empire?”
When Latifa’s pale arms and legs peeked out from beneath her deep-hooded black robe, the soldiers gaped at them, jaws practically dropping.
“A-and she looks like a woman!”
“A woman from the Empire?”
“No way! General Hades hates women! Are we seeing things?!”
No matter how many times they rubbed their eyes and looked again, the figure beside Hades was unmistakably an imperial woman. Though her face and features were hidden beneath the deeply pulled hood, it was enough to fuel endless gossip.
Known as the Mad Dog of the Grand Bazaar for his outrageous antics, Hades had never once been linked to any scandal involving women. And now a woman stood beside him—holding his hand tightly, no less!
“Isn’t that robe she’s wearing the special luxury item offered exclusively to General Hades?”
“Good heavens! The sun will rise in the west tomorrow!”
Just then, Manut galloped over on horseback and barked at the stunned soldiers.
“You lot! Do you want the general to see you loafing around like this?!”
“General Manut! Look over there!”
At his subordinate’s words, Manut turned his head—and immediately found his own mouth hanging open as he stared. There was Hades, walking side by side with Latifa, supporting her without the slightest gap between them.
‘He never said he’d take her so openly!’
Manut knew a little about Latifa, but he never imagined Hades would escort her in such a way that invited misunderstanding. He’d assumed Hades would discreetly send subordinates to handle her.
‘If he keeps pulling stunts like this, Prince Luhan’s reputation might suffer too!’
“Do you know who that woman is, General?”
“Don’t concern yourselves with his affairs. Focus on your duties.”
Though greatly flustered, Manut gave orders to his men without showing it, then turned his horse toward Hades.
**
‘One mountain after another.’
Latifa secretly sighed as she looked at the imposing black steed before her. She’d heard they’d be riding the same horse, but she never truly believed Hades would actually do it.
It made no sense, even logically.
‘Why would a nation’s grand general ride the same horse as a prisoner from a defeated country?!’
On top of that, the soldiers’ glances—constantly sneaking looks at her—were sharp and piercing. Without needing to ask, she knew their eyes asked, “Why are you there?”
In fact, she wanted to turn the question back on them: “Why am I here, exactly?”
“Well? Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
“…No.”
She’d ridden a few times ceremonially in the imperial palace, but admitting that risked exposing her status, so Latifa shook her head.
“Would you prefer the front or the back?”
Latifa tilted her head in confusion at Hades’s sudden question. Front? Back? What was he talking about?
“If you sit in front, you’ll be honorably cradled in my arms. If you sit behind, you’ll honorably place your hands around my waist.”
‘What?!’
“…”
Hades’s tone held no trace of jest or amusement—it didn’t sound like a joke at all. Had he spoken playfully, she wouldn’t have been so flustered.
“Choose quickly. Front or back?”
As he urged her, he placed a large saddle onto the black horse.
Whichever she chose was troubling. It had taken immense mental effort just to grasp his hand without trembling—and now he wanted her to ride with him?!
And not just ride—to be held in his arms or wrap her hands around his waist?! It was practically a death sentence.
Latifa had absolutely no immunity to men. Having lived alone in a secluded palace pavilion, she’d seen barely any young men her age in years; the only males she encountered were servants or library scribes.
‘And the man before me is the Mad Dog himself…!’
As Latifa’s mind swirled in confusion, Hades’s impatient voice rang out again.
“Why are you turning into a mute again?”
Just then, like a savior, Manut dismounted and rushed in front of Hades.
“General! General Hades!”
“The troops are ready to march. Manut, shouldn’t you be in the rear instead of here?”
“General, it’s about that woman.”
‘Me?’
Hearing herself mentioned, Latifa perked up her ears.
“Yes, Manut. Good timing. Choose—one or the other: front or back.”
“Huh?”
Ignoring Manut’s words entirely, Hades spoke first. Latifa instantly grasped his intention.
‘He’s making him choose!’
She looked at Manut with pleading eyes.
Please, back. Back. Back.
Holding his waist is better than being held in his arms—please! Back, sir!
Manut frowned and asked,
“Front and back? Are we reorganizing the troops?”
“No. Just choose quickly. Front or back?”
Not only did Latifa stare at Manut desperately, but she even parted her lips slightly to give him a hint.
“B-b… back.”
But cruelly, Manut seemed oblivious to her hint and declared heartily,
“A man should always take the lead, shouldn’t he? Front! I choose the front!”
“Nooo!”
‘It’s over!’
At her sudden shriek, both Manut and Hades jumped in surprise and turned to stare at Latifa.
She covered her mouth, glaring reproachfully at Manut. Flustered by that look, Manut quickly turned back to Hades.
“Puhahahaha!”
Hades suddenly burst into loud laughter.
“She says front! Front! Of course! A man takes the front, naturally!”
“W-what’s going on?”
Once his laughter subsided, Hades stepped beside Latifa, grasped her waist, and swiftly lifted her onto the saddle.
“Hah!”
When his warm hand touched her waist, Latifa involuntarily gasped. But that hand on her waist was only the beginning.
In one fluid motion, Hades leapt onto the horse and settled behind Latifa. Soon, the burly man’s arms wrapped around her slender waist, and his firm chest pressed against her back.
‘I’d rather faint!’
Thump, thump—the horse’s rapid heartbeat against its back seemed to quicken her own pulse. Heat flared within her robe, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.
Hades’s hands emerged from either side of her waist and quickly took hold of the reins.
“G-general! Your current actions are unbecoming of your… your dignity…!”
Manut, who had witnessed everything, was left speechless. Hades glanced at him and replied with feigned innocence,
“Manut, you said front, so I respected your wish and seated her in front. Is there a problem?”
Hades’s low voice resonated directly in Latifa’s ear—they were that close. Startled by this unfamiliar flutter in her chest, Latifa quickly leaned her upper body forward to create distance.
“G-general…!”
Manut looked up at them on the horse with a pained expression. Hades paid him no mind and turned to survey the troops behind, while Latifa mirrored Manut’s expression and muttered softly,
“That’s why I said back, mister…”
“M-mister…?”
“Come now, if we dawdle any longer, the sun will set. Whoa, let’s go.”
The black horse began moving at its master’s command. Latifa sighed deeply, feeling the intense warmth radiating from the back pressed against hers.
‘Desert folk really are strange people.’
When scheming men desperately battle for her favor in the male harem
This one’s also on my reread list! The rivalry, scheming between the men in the imperial harem are just as intense and thrilling as in classic palace drama novels, where concubines fight to the death. Give it a read, girls! I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Synopsis:
“I am not worthy of her… but I still want to be by her side, even if only as a loyal dog…”
Those were the painful whispers of Yue Guanyi – the proud Crown Prince of the Great Qi, who was torn between deep love and a guilty conscience. Despite holding the supreme power of the Imperial Guard, he still could not forget the dark past when he was sold into a brothel.
Fate played a cruel twist when Qiu Shuzhi – a young female official who had just passed the imperial examinations with top honors – stepped into his life. She did not know that she was the one who had saved him from a tragic fate many years ago. And now, her heart was the target of pursuit for both Yue Guanyi and the powerful Empress Dowager Qin Qing.
While Yue Guanyi only dared to silently care for and protect the one he loved from afar, the Empress Dowager Qin Qing openly expressed his feelings and did not hesitate to take advantage of his power to approach Qiu Shuzhi. The covert struggle between the two most powerful forces in the imperial court began…
Trigger warning: All men in this novel are yandere style.
_____
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