Men of the Harem (137 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 12

La Til gave a cold laugh, glared into the air for a moment, then shook her head and straightened her back. This wasn’t the time for that. Anger could wait. First, she had to finish her work.

But just as she picked up another document she’d pushed aside earlier, a secretary cautiously opened the door and entered.

La Til raised her head and looked at the approaching secretary.

The Emperor officially had two offices: a public one and a private one. La Til was currently in the public office.

In the public office, the Emperor’s secretaries and attendants could freely come and go as long as it was work-related. Of course, even though it was called “freely,” everyone still felt uneasy, so no one entered unless absolutely necessary.

“What is it?”

Responding promptly to La Til’s question, the secretary quickly stepped forward and reported.

“The envoy delegation that went to Carissen has arrived. Count Bretha is waiting in the reception room—shall I tell him to come in?”

‘Finally!’

“Tell him to come in.”

La Til suppressed her excitement and leaned back lazily in her chair, a peculiar mix of satisfaction and nervous tension rising inside her. Yet what Count Bretha delivered was not Hyacinth’s furious approval—but a firm refusal.

“Your Majesty, the Emperor of Carissen stated he cannot send a concubine and sent our delegation back without even letting them stay overnight.”

At Count Bretha’s report, which reeked of petty tattling, La Til raised one eyebrow skeptically.

“What did you say?”

He couldn’t send a concubine? And he didn’t even let the delegation stay overnight before sending them back?

Seeing La Til’s expression darken, Count Bretha quickly pulled out Hyacinth’s hastily written reply from his robe and handed it over. La Til grimly tore open the seal and took out the letter.

– How can you make such a demand of me, La Til?

The letter held none of the malice La Til had sent in hers, but every short line brimmed with wounded indignation. La Til let out a hollow chuckle. What exactly is this fool trying to say?

Yes, she had indeed demanded a concubine out of spite—but it was absolutely not an unreasonable request. In fact, even if Hyacinth hadn’t been her former lover, considering the various circumstances, La Til likely would have made the same demand to Carissen anyway.

Had Crown Prince Lean or Prince Tulla ascended instead, there was a high likelihood one of their imperial consorts would have come from Carissen for the sake of diplomatic relations.

So why refuse such a minor request? Especially when he himself had accepted a concubine from the Tariyum Empire just two years ago?

“Damn bastard.”

This was clearly an act of deliberate deception and disrespect toward Tariyum.

“Marquis Sable!”

As La Til ground her teeth, Marquis Sable quickly and perceptively brought over a fresh sheet of paper. La Til drew her fountain pen as though drawing a sword and gripped it tightly.

[If you refuse my envoy delegation again, I’ll consider it a direct slight against the Tariyum Empire and respond “appropriately.” Don’t act as if anything still remains between us when you haven’t sent a single letter in three years.]

“…….”

Hyacinth silently stared at the letter La Til had sent, then sighed and turned his gaze aside. On the table sat the reply he’d prepared for La Til.

[I sent letters and gifts punctually once a week—what are you even talking about?]

He laid down his pen and leaned his head back. As he closed his eyes and massaged his throbbing neck, a faint image of La Til smiling appeared in his mind—not a mocking smile, but a genuine, joyful one.

She had always shone, even sitting among wildflowers—fresh like sunlight settling atop blossoms. It was hard to believe that same pure-hearted person had sent him such a scornful letter. …Hyacinth shook his head.

He was romanticizing the past too much. La Til had always been rough around the edges—even her sunlight was scorching heat. Back then, it had only seemed adorable how she’d grumble, trying not to show that roughness around him.

Rubbing his temples, Hyacinth furrowed his brow. His claim about sending letters and gifts regularly wasn’t an excuse—it was the truth. Yet La Til, despite her temper, wasn’t the type to lie about something like this.

‘But then why does she accuse me of never sending a single letter? Could someone have intercepted my letters and gifts?’

Hyacinth frowned deeply. Even if La Til had received his letters and gifts, there was no guarantee her wounded heart—after his marriage—had softened at all.

In fact, his apologies over the past few years had likely echoed emptily in her ears. Given her temperament, it wouldn’t be surprising if she’d tossed his letters and gifts into the trash unopened.

Separately, however, the idea that someone had tampered with items sent from an emperor to an empress was serious—whether it had happened on Tariyum’s side or Carissen’s, it wasn’t something to overlook lightly.

Hyacinth stared at the letter, then placed it back into the envelope, stamped it with red wax, and sealed it. Without lengthy explanations, this alone should make La Til realize there was a problem.

Hyacinth fiddled with the envelope’s outer cover before setting it down.

‘This matter can be investigated jointly. But the concubine issue… what to do now?’

La Til’s “appropriate response” meant severing diplomatic ties. Personally, it seemed ridiculous to cut ties over just one consort—but nationally, it was the Emperor’s demand being outright dismissed.

Between nations, even the smallest spark could ignite war, and history was filled with wars sparked by similar incidents.

Given the circumstances, Hyacinth found it increasingly difficult to refuse Tariyum’s request at the state level. It was hard—but…

Hyacinth covered his face with both hands. La Til had left without accepting his five-year promise, yet he’d spent all this time alone, trying his best to uphold it. He wanted to resolve things quickly and beg La Til for another chance.

But how? How could he possibly send another man—as a concubine—to the woman he loved? And worse, his own younger brother?

[This is the timeline separator]

“Klein. I’ll let you go, but remember this—you’re only going there temporarily.”

In the end, after several days of discussion with his chancellor, Hyacinth decided to send Klein first. However, Klein would go not as an official consort but as a temporary one, and Hyacinth included a formal letter explicitly stating this arrangement.

Unlike an official consort, a temporary consort’s child wouldn’t be immediately recognized as imperial royalty, and the consort themselves would only be considered quasi-royal—but with the key advantage that they could request divorce at any time.

Originally adopted from the Huayue Kingdom, where consort ranks varied even among consorts themselves, the system had now become largely distorted, and was commonly used by foreign-born consorts.

It was especially common when one had to reluctantly become a consort in a hostile nation.

“I get it already! How many times are you going to repeat the same thing?”

“I’ll wait for the right moment and ask them to send you back…”

“Ah, fine, alright, Brother.”

Hyacinth sighed, exasperated by Klein’s utterly unfazed and carefree attitude.

“Once you’re there, try to rein in your temper.”

“What’s gotten into you—worried about me all of a sudden?”

“…No matter what Emperor Latrasil says, don’t get riled up along with her.”

“Are you seriously worried about me now?”

“It’s complicated.”

“So you *are* worried about me. Then who’s the other person you’re worried about?”

“It’s not ‘complicated’ in that sense. Half of me worries about you, and the other half doesn’t.”

Klein frowned and stared at him, but Hyacinth offered no further explanation. Even he couldn’t bring himself to honestly tell his younger brother, “I’m jealous.”

“Klein. Just in case…”

But unable to hold back any longer, Hyacinth leaned close to Klein’s ear and whispered.

“Since you’re only going there temporarily, don’t let so much as a fingertip touch Emperor Latrasil.”

The corner of Klein’s mouth curled up smugly. What on earth was this imperial older brother talking about?

“What if Emperor Latrasil comes to me first?”

“That… that’s impossible.”

“You never know.”

Klein grinned with confidence. Emperor Latrasil would probably try to kiss him the moment he arrived—but he didn’t bother telling his brother such boastful thoughts.

Clearly, his older brother wasn’t entirely comfortable sending his younger brother off as a consort to a foreign emperor.

“I’ll go.”

With a light laugh, Klein climbed onto an ornately decorated carriage.

Normally, consorts would follow envoy delegations a week or ten days later as a matter of protocol—but Klein found that tedious, so he decided to travel with the delegation instead.

More precisely, after hearing Count Bretha—the delegation’s representative—say, “There’s an entire crowd of men eager to enter His Majesty’s harem,” Klein had grown anxious and insisted on accompanying them immediately.

Of course, Emperor Latrasil already loved him—but what if some sly fox slipped in between them and swayed her heart? He needed to get to her side quickly, firmly establish himself as a barrier, and keep other men away.

Having hastily finished his farewells, Klein settled into the carriage like a gust of wind. His restless heart kept his body equally restless—but he leaned out the window once more.

“Oh, by the way, Brother.”

Hyacinth, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a complicated expression, turned his head.

“What is it?”

Klein glanced around, then leaned further out and whispered close to Hyacinth’s ear.

“Are you really going to divorce your wife?”

Hyacinth’s expression froze. Klein awkwardly scratched his forehead.

“I mean… sure, you and Lady Aini don’t get along well, but she doesn’t seem like a bad person or anything. Why not just stay together?”

As soon as his imperial authority stabilized, Hyacinth had quietly spent nearly a year preparing for a divorce—which was exactly what Klein was asking about. Since Aini had done nothing wrong, why go to such lengths to end it?

Hyacinth had now solidified his power enough not to be swayed by Duke Daga—but to Klein, it still seemed wiser to keep Duke Daga close as an ally.

Yet Hyacinth flatly dismissed Klein’s concerns.

“You know we married with this exact purpose from the start, right?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“Aini was originally Heum’s fiancée, and the two of them got along well. She and I married only out of mutual necessity. She loved Heum—and I killed Heum. I have no intention of keeping someone by my side who might stab me in the back at any moment. Even now, we never turn our backs to each other.”

“If you divorce Aini… then what? Is there another woman you have your eye on?”

Hyacinth looked at Klein with a troubled gaze. Despite his rotten temper and constant troublemaking, Klein was still the only one among his siblings who acted like a proper younger brother—which made Hyacinth all the more conflicted. Worry and jealousy warred equally within him, tormenting him.

“Brother?”

“Klein. I’ll say this once more…”

“?”

“Remember—you’re only going there temporarily. Once you’ve stayed half a year, that’ll be enough to save face. No matter the excuse, I’ll immediately request to have you sent back.”

“I’ve heard it so many times I’ve memorized it.”

“I said remember it. Never set your heart on her, and never try to settle down there. Understand? You’re not going as her man—you’re there temporarily for a state arrangement.”

[This is the timeline separator]

“You seem nervous.”

La Til, who had been leaning against the palace balcony and anxiously peering downward, turned her head at the voice. Captain Sarnet was watching her.

“A little.”

La Til answered honestly.

“I suppose you would be.”

Hyacinth had finally agreed to send a concubine—and not only that, the consort he sent would join the envoy delegation and arrive in Tariyum immediately. The news had reached them just yesterday, leaving no time to prepare mentally.

Even that news had come yesterday only because one member of the delegation had rushed ahead of the procession, desperate to warn La Til before she was caught off guard. The delegation itself would arrive within the hour.

“Haaah.”

La Til repeatedly interlaced and released her fingers.

“It’s nothing major. I just feel a bit unsettled.”

“He’s only one among your consorts. Try to relax.”

“I know… but he’s coming from Carissen, after all.”

Glancing around, La Til quietly added in a voice meant only for Captain Sarnet to hear.

“You know what’s between me and him.”

Of course, the incoming consort wouldn’t be Hyacinth himself, nor would he have any real connection to him. Perhaps later, he’d just become one among many consorts, unworthy of her attention.

But not right now. He would be La Til’s “first” consort—a token of pride carved by Hyacinth himself and sent as a symbol of her revenge. She couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“Ah. There they are.”

“They’re here.”

Finally, she spotted the procession bearing the envoy’s banner approaching the palace walls. La Til took a sharp breath and descended from the balcony.

After spiraling down the staircase to the grand façade at the palace’s heart, La Til quickly adjusted her attire and assumed a dignified expression.

“If you start putting on that face now, you’ll struggle to keep it up later.”

Captain Sarnet teased her—but she had no energy to banter back, nor even the presence of mind to notice his unusually grim expression.

When the carriage finally rolled close through the garden, La Til took a deep breath and deliberately softened her expression into a faint smile. She intended to appear both poised and majestic—as a proper emperor should.

‘My consort must be in that Carissen-style carriage.’

Spotting the only carriage among the Tariyum fleet decorated in Carissen fashion, La Til slowly approached it. But the moment its door clicked open and a silver-haired man stepped out—

La Til’s smiling expression froze completely.

‘Him!’

That man. It was him—the man who’d caused a drunken scandal the night before Hyacinth’s wedding. Hyacinth’s younger brother!

She couldn’t recall his name—something starting with “Kl… Kl-something.”

‘But why is he here? Where’s my consort? Why is that man stepping out instead?’