Men of the Harem (137 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 16
La Til frowned and looked at the knight.
She was annoyed that Anakcha had summoned her. Whether Anakcha starved for five days or six, who cared?
La Til disliked all of her father’s concubines, but she still treated them with the decorum expected by custom.
But Anakcha was the person La Til hated most, and her involvement in Prince Tulla’s affair had made La Til despise her even more. Honestly speaking, even if that woman were to starve to death, La Til wouldn’t want to visit her.
Yet one had to show restraint even when shedding blood. Everyone had already been horrified once after she’d executed her half-brother Tulla without hesitation.
Since the effect of that shock still lingered, there was no need to further cement an image of cruelty by openly killing the mother as well. Killing could always be done quietly anytime.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
[This is the timeline separator]The first memory La Til had of Concubine Anakcha was that she was “glamorous.” She wore a diamond necklace even larger than the Empress’s, and stood brightly beside her father with an elegant crown upon her head, clinging to his arm.
Anakcha had captivated her father like a cherry blossom in full bloom. Every time she laughed, her father beamed from ear to ear, while the little brat beside them whined and begged to go fishing.
Seated on her mother’s lap, La Til watched and wondered, Why is that woman clinging to my abamama instead of staying beside my emamama? Why isn’t abamama with emamama over there?
Back then, she’d been too young to be truly angry—just confused by how odd it all seemed. As soon as they’d returned to their quarters after the outing, her mother had burst into tears.
The second memory of Anakcha was of her being furious.
La Til had only one older brother—Lean—and yet one day, some brat she’d never heard of or seen before showed up, boasting that he was La Til’s older brother.
He then “advised” La Til to obey him properly, and La Til kicked him in the shin for his insolence.
The brat wailed and ran off crying for his mother. Just as La Til was about to kick him again—calling him a pathetic whelp—Anakcha came rushing over.
“Your temper is an exact replica of Her Imperial Majesty the Empress! Vile! Despicable! For someone so young, you’re utterly awful!”
Concubine Anakcha shrieked sharply and shoved La Til. La Til stumbled backward and fell into the pond. Anakcha seemed momentarily startled, but immediately turned away, fussing only over her own son.
“Who did this? Who dared push you?”
Seeing her soaked clothes, her mother was furious—but La Til didn’t tell her it was Anakcha who’d done it. Even if she’d wanted to, she hadn’t known the woman’s name then.
Anyway, La Til chose silence, fearing it would upset her mother.
Instead, the next time she saw that brat—the one who’d claimed to be her older brother and whom his mother clearly doted on—she kicked him even harder, three times in the shin, then ran off.
The third time they met, Anakcha glared at La Til as if she wanted to tear her apart. Seeing that fierce gaze, La Til smiled for the first time since facing her.
The woman who’d made her mother cry looked far more fitting twisted in hatred than smiling sweetly.
“Seeing you like this brings back old memories.”
And now. Anakcha glared at La Til just as she had back then. La Til stood with her hands clasped behind her back, smirking faintly as she looked down steadily through the iron bars at the woman.
She’d been annoyed when summoned—but now that she’d come, it felt like the right decision. How satisfying this was!
If only her mother hadn’t entered the temple… La Til felt a renewed pang of regret, then suddenly had a good idea.
She should write a letter to her mother. Surely her mother would want to witness Anakcha’s downfall. Wouldn’t she be delighted to see this sight?
La Til said nothing—but sometimes silence and expression conveyed an even more ruthless atmosphere. Anakcha bit her lip, her face darkening as bitter memories flooded back.
“Since childhood, Your Highness has always been cunning and wicked. Yes… I remember the old days too.”
“It’s ‘Your Majesty,’ not ‘Highness.’ You ought to correct your address.”
“To me, there are only two ‘Your Majesties’—my husband and my son!”
La Til smirked, lifting one corner of her mouth.
“It seems ascending to this position has made you rather lenient.”
“?”
“Back then, I used to get so angry whenever you spoke ill of me. But now… well, it just looks like you’re thrashing helplessly.”
Seeing Anakcha’s face twist in fury made La Til laugh even more gleefully.
Truthfully, objectively speaking, she could understand Anakcha’s position—if she tried. To Anakcha, her child was Tulla, and the Empress’s children were his rivals. In the contest for affection, Anakcha had always won.
But in the battle for the throne, her son had lost.
As a consequence, a woman who’d lived luxuriously for over twenty years was now imprisoned in a tower—and so Anakcha surely despised La Til to death.
Yet understanding someone’s position was entirely different from accepting it. The reverse held true as well—if Tulla had seized the throne, Anakcha wouldn’t have left the Empress and La Til in peace either.
In any case, quarreling with a defeated enemy was absurd. So instead of provoking her further, La Til asked haughtily,
“Well then. Why did you summon me?”
At that question, Anakcha—who’d been fierce just moments ago—suddenly looked weak. She hesitated, unable to answer immediately. When La Til simply waited patiently, Anakcha finally asked in a trembling voice,
“My son… where is my son now?”
Huh? She still didn’t know? La Til raised an eyebrow.
Of course, Anakcha hadn’t been present at the execution order’s location. Tulla had first been imprisoned, then executed—so by the time Anakcha was dragged away and confined, she likely hadn’t yet learned her son’s fate.
But over a month had passed—La Til had assumed someone, perhaps a guard, would’ve informed her by now. Glancing sideways at the royal guard knight assigned to Anakcha, the knight immediately bowed his head deeply.
La Til turned back to Anakcha. The woman looked up at her, fear etched on her face.
“Hmm…”
La Til paused in thought. What should she say? Since Anakcha would spend the rest of her life imprisoned here anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to lie and let her cling to hope.
If La Til told her Tulla was still alive, Anakcha might believe that one day he’d kill La Til and come rescue her.
‘Should I ease her mind or not? Should I not tell her?’
“Your son is dead.”
But La Til chose to make her suffer.
“I ordered his execution myself.”
She said it with a light laugh—and Anakcha’s face froze as if suddenly plunged into icy water. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at La Til. Her blue lips trembled violently, and slowly her complexion turned pale.
“Th-that… that can’t be! Tulla is your older brother!”
“He was your son.”
“!”
“He tried to kill me.”
“But…”
“He tried to steal what was mine.”
“This…”
“He made my mother cry.”
“You wretched creature!”
After shock came rage. Concubine Anakcha shrieked as if ripped apart by lightning and grabbed the bars tightly.
“If Tulla had become emperor, he wouldn’t have killed his own sibling like this!”
“Do you really think Tulla—someone who tried to seize the throne even by inviting foreign powers—would’ve left me, a lifelong thorn in his side, alive?”
“Tulla isn’t a heartless monster like you!”
“Ugh, well, I’m not heartless toward my own mother either.”
The moment she finished speaking, Anakcha spat. Her saliva splattered onto La Til’s face. Everyone around flinched simultaneously.
“Oh…”
As La Til reached out her hand, Sarnet immediately offered a handkerchief. Wiping the spit from her face, La Til muttered,
“You’re really testing my patience.”
Sarnet, looking threatening, swiftly drew his sword and—in the blink of an eye—slid it through the bars, pressing the blade against Anakcha’s throat.
“You traitor! You, a knight of Her Majesty, how could you assist in killing the son she loved most? You’re a rebel! A villainous minister!”
Anakcha yelled at Sarnet too, but he remained expressionless. Watching this, La Til lazily smiled and whispered as if revealing a crucial secret,
“That’s enough, Sir Sarnet. If we kill her, it shouldn’t be with a blade.”
At La Til’s gesture, Sarnet immediately sheathed his sword. Anakcha stepped back out of the blade’s reach—but couldn’t escape the chilling words La Til left behind.
“Well. If that was all you wanted to ask, I’ll take my leave.”
“You cold-blooded, wicked—”
“Yes, yes. I’m terribly evil. So even if you starve to death from your hunger strike, I won’t care. Don’t bother with pointless antics from now on.”
Waving her hand dismissively, La Til turned to leave.
“You think you’ve won now, don’t you?”
When neither threats nor pleas worked, Anakcha fell silent—only to shout again just as La Til was about to step out of the prison.
La Til had one foot already in the corridor but turned her head to look back at Concubine Anakcha. The woman gripped the bars tightly, glaring at La Til with terrifying, haunting eyes.
“But you’re wrong, Latrasil. You cruel, wicked, heartless demon—you’ll be betrayed by the one you hold most dear! You’d better watch out for the person you trust most.”
Then, as if driven mad, she began cackling uncontrollably. The shock of hearing her son had been executed seemed greater than La Til had expected.
“I’m not cursing you—I’m not insane either. Everything I’ve said is true. Later… later, when that day comes, you’ll remember my words!”
[This is the timeline separator]Having been spat on by someone she hated and hearing ominous curses shouted with wild, glaring eyes left a sour taste in La Til’s mouth—though she wasn’t afraid. She skipped dinner and returned straight to her bedroom.
Worried, Sarnet followed her all the way into her chamber and, after watching her anxiously for a moment, finally asked,
“Are you alright?”
La Til answered honestly.
“She spoke so meaningfully. It’s… a bit unsettling.”
“It was meant only to sour Your Majesty’s mood. There’s no need to worry about it.”
“Of course, it could just be spiteful rambling…”
Frowning, La Til unbuckled the sword at her waist and placed it on the bed.
“But the letter thief and the assassin still haven’t been caught. That’s what concerns me.”
If not for those two unresolved matters, she could’ve mocked Anakcha even more after hearing such insults. But with those hanging over her, the whole encounter left a bitter aftertaste.
Hearing La Til, Sarnet also muttered seriously,
“I must stay awake for several nights if needed and quickly cross-check all the ledgers brought from Meloshi.”
“Shall I help?”
“Working late with Your Majesty would bring me joy—”
“But?”
“—but if I make Your Majesty stay up late, the Chief Attendant will surely want to snap my neck.”
Knowing the Chief Attendant was exactly the type to do that, La Til burst out laughing.
“That’s true.”
Yet even as she laughed, her mood remained unsettled. The menacing look in Anakcha’s eyes—gripping the bars, eyes blazing—lingered unpleasantly in her mind.
“Sir Sarnet. Increase surveillance on Anakcha. Assign multiple verified individuals to watch her simultaneously.”
“Yes.”
After giving her second order, La Til fell into deep thought for a while, then spoke again.
“And tomorrow… I should go incognito.”
“Incognito?”
“You may not be close to Gesta, but you still know what kind of person he is. But we know nothing about the merchant Tasir or the Mercenary King Calain, right?”
“You don’t mean…”
Sarnet’s expression hardened.
“You’re planning to meet the prospective concubines yourself? In person?”
“Whether meeting them directly or observing from nearby, it’s better to see them before they officially enter the palace as concubines.”
These men would become La Til’s future consorts. Some might even share her bed.
No matter how skilled the royal guards stationed beside her were, as knights, there would always be a distance they could never cross. But concubines could step right inside that boundary—among the very few who could be alone with her.
“I want to verify them before they become mine. After seeing Anakcha, I feel it’s better to judge in advance—who they really are, whether they’re fit to become concubines, whether they’ll be helpful or dangerous…”
Unconsciously, La Til untied her high ponytail—then, realizing belatedly that Sarnet was still standing beside her, she gave an awkward smile.
“Oh. Right, Sir Sarnet.”
“Shall I undo it for you?”
“No—actually, about the handkerchief… What should we do with it? Anakcha spat on it.”
“!”
“Should I… give it back?”
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
MANGA DISCUSSION
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Chapter Comments (2)
I can’t wait for latil and her son to meet
I can’t wait for latil and her son to meet
Inline Comments (22)
The sensation of that touch remained vivid—but was it really just a dream? Still
Scary. What is this? Ghost? I don’t think he’s one of the concubine. Either La Til was dreaming or he was a ghost.
Gesta hadn't always been this dense. Back when they were younger, he'd shown fla
On the contrary, Gesta is smart. He chose the style of I’m nice and weak and poor in order to win everyone’s pity.
Only after Ranamun cut in coldly did La Til finally regain her composure. She al
Ranamun is very proud. La Til has never visited him except for one night. The poor guy thought he would win her heart easily.
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Kitsune
Such an unpleasant feeling is hovering after this part. I wish for some enjoyable moments soon.