Men of the Harem (137 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 149

“What are you talking about, La Til? A very long time ago, our country was larger than it is now, and there used to be an ocean. And why do you think merfolk wouldn’t be in a canal? Don’t you believe merfolk can live wherever they please? Why do you limit their dwelling place? You’re not even a merfolk yourself.

Also, I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell me whether or not you kissed my sibling. What’s the point of constantly sending me unnecessary information just to make me angry? Are you trying to keep stirring up my emotions and make me furious?

Well then, I’m sorry to disappoint you, La Til. I’m not even slightly angry about you kissing my sibling. A concubine can certainly exchange kisses freely. Even I, who am not a concubine, have done so—so my sibling, who is a concubine, can certainly do it too.

Anyway, since you started this, shall I share one excessive piece of information with you, La Til? Though I’m only saying it now—you’re actually terrible at kissing. I didn’t say anything before because I was worried you’d feel embarrassed.

Didn’t I mention my sibling said you kiss well? Try asking my sibling the same question—whether you’re actually good at kissing. I bet they’ll tell you you’re not. Even if they say you are, don’t believe it—it’ll be a lie.

And since it’s annoying, please don’t add things like ‘(laugh)’ to your letters anymore. (Annoyed)

P.S. My sibling keeps asking me via letter to send money—could it be that you’re secretly encouraging them to demand hush money from me?

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Thinking there probably wasn’t anything urgent, La Til checked the letter Hyacinth had sent before going to bed—and immediately regretted it. The moment she read it, all sleepiness vanished completely.

“Who’s bad at kissing? Encouraging hush money? And what’s all this about merfolk habitats—I’m not even a merfolk!”

La Til snorted. This was practically a declaration of war. Hyacinth was deliberately provoking her through this letter—she’d had a feeling about it ever since he first started acting like a thug.

La Til quickly ran to her desk with the letter, not even properly sitting down before frantically rummaging through the drawer for stationery. Suddenly, her hand stopped at one spot.

“……”

La Til picked up the object that had tumbled out between fresh sheets of paper and placed it in her palm. It was a dried-out, twisted grass ring—the very one Hyacinth had once made himself and placed on her finger long ago.

Hesitating for a moment, La Til forced open the brittle ring and tried slipping it onto her finger. But the moment she attempted to put it on, it crumbled instantly and fell to the floor.

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