The Empress's Harem and Other Unwanted Side Hustles

Lucien stood at the entrance of the study, his small hands gripping the hem of his tunic. His gray eyes, curious but cautious, flickered between his mother and the man sitting across from her.

The man looked a little like his father—the same black hair, the same sharp features—but his eyes were different. They weren't cold like the Emperor's. Instead, they were warm, almost gentle.

Lucien hesitated.

His mother was busy with documents, flipping through pages with her usual calm focus. The other man in the room, the one called Demitry, stood stiffly by the desk, eyeing her with barely concealed distrust.

Lucien ignored him. His attention was on the older man.

Allen Sirius Verdeca.

His grandfather.

Lucien had never met him before. Neither had his half-brother and sister, Roan and Elysian. The former Emperor had disappeared from court life long ago, leaving nothing but rumors behind.

Yet now, here he was. Alive. And staring at Lucien with a strange expression.

Lucien's heart pounded a little. He had never really had family beyond his mother. Everyone else either ignored him or saw him as a shadow of his father.

But this man…

Lucien swallowed. Then, before he could stop himself, he took a step forward.

And then another.

And another.

Then, in a small, careful voice, he called out—

"Grandfather?"

A sharp inhale echoed in the quiet room.

Allen blinked.

Lucien shifted his weight nervously, his fingers twitching. He didn't know if he had said something wrong, but—

The next moment, he was swept into a warm embrace.

Lucien let out a small sound of surprise as strong arms pulled him close, holding him tightly but gently. The scent of medicine still clung to Allen's clothes, but underneath it, Lucien could smell something else.

Something comforting.

Something that felt like home.

Allen's voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "You… called me grandfather."

Lucien blinked, peeking up at him. "You are my grandfather, right?"

Allen let out a weak chuckle, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed through Lucien's dark hair. "Yes," he whispered. "I am."

Lucien tilted his head. "Then… can I call you that?"

Allen tightened his hold on him. His voice wavered, but his answer was firm.

"Of course."

From the desk, Diana lifted her gaze briefly, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips curled into a soft, knowing smile.

Demitry, however, looked like he had just witnessed something unbelievable. His brows furrowed deeply, and he shot Diana a pointed look, as if demanding an explanation.

Diana only shrugged lightly before turning back to her documents.

She didn't need to explain anything.

The man who had been on his deathbed yesterday was now hugging his grandson like he had been given a second chance at life. That was explanation enough.

Lucien, still wrapped in Allen's embrace, hesitated before quietly speaking again.

"Do you… want to hear about my tutors?"

Allen pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on Lucien's shoulders. "Your tutors?"

Lucien nodded, eyes bright. "Mother teaches me a lot, but I also have other teachers."

Diana glanced up from her papers, raising a brow.

Allen looked down at his grandson, amused. "Oh? And who are they?"

Lucien perked up, proud to share. "For politics, I have Lucius Nightbane!"

Silence.

Allen's smile stiffened.

He turned his gaze toward Diana, who was still focused on her documents, pretending not to notice his expression.

"…Lucius Nightbane?" Allen repeated slowly.

"The Underworld King," Demitry muttered, his tone bordering on disbelief.

Allen's eye twitched. He looked back at Lucien, trying to maintain his calm. "And for magic?"

Lucien beamed. "Zephyr Magnus, the Magic Tower Master!"

Allen turned to Diana again.

She simply smiled.

Allen took a slow, deep breath, as if processing the absurdity of what he had just heard. He then turned back to his grandson, speaking as gently as possible.

"…Lucien, those are not normal tutors."

Lucien tilted his head. "But they're very good teachers."

Allen rubbed his temple. "I don't doubt that, but—"

Before he could finish, Lucien continued, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

"And for swordsmanship, Mother teaches me for now. She's very strong!"

Allen sighed, relieved. "At least that sounds reasonable."

Diana finally spoke up, her voice light. "For now."

Allen's eyes narrowed. "…For now?"

Diana calmly stacked her papers before meeting his gaze. "I'm only teaching him the basics. He'll need a proper instructor soon."

Allen frowned. "And who would that be?"

Diana rested her chin on her palm. "I was thinking of asking Theodore."

Silence.

Demitry made a choking noise.

Allen slowly turned to face Diana, his expression unreadable. "…You mean my Theodore?"

Diana nodded. "Yes, your rebellious younger brother. The one who ran away. The one who taught me the Imperial Swordsmanship."

Allen stared at her. Then at Lucien. Then back at Diana.

"…You learned from Theodore?"

Diana smiled. "I had to survive somehow."

Allen exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. "And… you're sixth circle now?"

Diana's smile widened. "Almost seventh."

Allen leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. His daughter-in-law had learned from his infamous runaway brother, mastered the Imperial Swordsmanship, and was now teaching her son the same path.

Not to mention—

His grandson's tutor lineup consisted of the Underworld King, the Magic Tower Master, and soon, Theodore Verdeca himself.

Allen looked at Lucien, who was still standing there, bright-eyed and eager.

"This is…" Allen trailed off before shaking his head. "Diana, this is madness."

Diana only shrugged. "My son is smart."

Allen sighed deeply. He was starting to understand.

Diana wasn't just trying to raise a strong successor.

She was raising someone who would never be controlled by the Empire.

A boy who would stand above all those who once sought to destroy him.

Allen looked at Lucien once more, taking in the quiet strength in his young eyes.

"…I see."

Lucien blinked. "See what?"

Allen softened, reaching out to ruffle Lucien's hair.

"That you really are my grandson."

Lucien giggled, leaning into the touch.

Diana's lips curved ever so slightly as she returned to her work.

Allen sighed again, this time with something close to resignation.

He had been given a second chance.

And, looking at his grandson's bright eyes, he would make sure not to waste it.

No matter how absurd this new future seemed.

*****

Cassian walked through the grand halls of the Empress's Palace, his boots clicking softly against the marble floor.

He had been coming here often lately. More than he used to.

It wasn't duty that brought him here—it was regret.

He knew he had made mistakes. Many of them.

But nothing haunted him more than the way Lucien flinched when he got too close.

That small, involuntary reaction, the way his son's shoulders tensed, the way his gray eyes dimmed in quiet expectation of something unpleasant—

It reminded Cassian too much of himself.

When he was a boy, he had flinched too. Around his mother. Around the people who called him a burden.

And now his own son flinched because of him.

The guilt was suffocating.

Lucien was his child. His flesh and blood.

A son he once called a mistake.

Cassian clenched his jaw, forcing the thought away.

He could fix this.

He had to.

And Diana—

Diana had always been easy to please.

That woman adored him once, didn't she?

She used to cling to him, smiling sweetly, always laughing at his words. If he gave her gifts, if he paid her attention, she would soften. She would let him back in.

Yes, that's how noble ladies were.

Diana loved expensive things. Fine jewelry. Dresses. Perfumes.

If he indulged her, she would forgive him.

She would let him see Lucien more.

It made sense.

Unlike Diana, Liliana was pure.

Liliana was kind. She was weak, delicate, innocent—everything a woman should be.

Diana, on the other hand, was a noble lady through and through. Arrogant, distant, proud—just like his mother.

Cassian hated noblewomen like that.

But Diana was still his wife.

And as long as she was, she should be by his side.

Cassian exhaled and adjusted the small velvet box in his hand.

Inside was an exquisite necklace, one of the finest from a foreign trader.

Diana would love it.

And if she softened, they could spend more time together.

Like before.

Like when things weren't so complicated.

Cassian reached the drawing room and stepped inside without hesitation.

Diana was seated on a plush couch, looking through documents, her silver hair cascading over her shoulder.

Lucien sat on her lap, stiff but composed, his small hands resting on the papers.

When Cassian entered, the child looked up. His gray eyes—his eyes—met his, and for a second, Cassian almost thought—

But then, as always, Lucien tensed.

His shoulders stiffened. His fingers curled slightly.

And Cassian felt something twist deep in his chest.

He ignored it.

He turned to Diana instead.

"I brought you something," he said, offering the box with a smile. "It's from a foreign trader. I thought you'd like it."

Diana blinked, looking between the box and his face.

"…Do you need something?" she asked curiously.

Cassian frowned. "What?"

Diana tilted her head. "Do you need my help with something? Is it Liliana?"

Cassian scowled. "No. This has nothing to do with Liliana."

Diana's confusion only deepened.

Cassian exhaled, placing the box on the table in front of her. "It's a gift. For you."

Diana stared at it for a moment.

Then, without a word, she pushed it back toward him.

"No need."

Cassian's smile faltered. "What?"

"I don't need it," Diana said, her voice calm. "Jewelry doesn't suit me anymore."

Cassian's patience thinned. "That's not true. You used to love gifts like this."

Diana hummed. "Maybe I did."

She wasn't being arrogant, but to Cassian, it felt like arrogance.

He had seen this kind of attitude before—from noble ladies who thought they were above everyone else. From women like his mother, who used wealth and power to control others.

And Diana—

Diana had always been like that.

It was just that, before, she used to direct all that arrogance toward him adoringly.

Clinging to him.

Loving him.

Now—

Now she was acting like she didn't need him at all.

And it infuriated him.

Cassian clenched his fists. "Is this because of your brother? The Duke of Hinsdale?"

Diana raised a brow. "What about him?"

Cassian scoffed. "You don't need my gifts because your family has enough money?"

Diana blinked at him, as if he had said something strange.

"…I don't understand," she admitted.

Cassian grit his teeth. "Of course you don't."

He was trying, damn it.

Trying to be kind. Trying to make things right.

But Diana was pushing him away.

Just like his mother used to push him away.

Cassian's voice turned sharp. "You think because you have some good tutors for Lucien, you don't need me anymore?"

Diana frowned slightly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Cassian inhaled sharply. "I am your husband, Diana."

Diana nodded. "Sure."

Cassian's eyes darkened.

That wasn't the response he wanted.

She was supposed to smile. To laugh. To soften, like she always did.

Not… this.

Not this indifferent, unbothered version of her.

Lucien, who had been silent the entire time, clutched the fabric of Diana's dress.

Cassian noticed.

Noticed the way his son instinctively sought her comfort.

Not his.

And for the first time in his life, Cassian felt something he couldn't quite name.

Something that made him feel small.

Weak.

Rejected.

Just like he had felt as a boy.

Diana looked at him, still puzzled. "Cassian, what are you actually trying to do?"

Cassian's mouth opened.

But no words came out.

He didn't know.

He didn't know what he wanted.

Reconciliation?

Forgiveness?

Did he want Diana to go back to the way she used to be? Did he want Lucien to stop looking at him like he was someone to be feared?

Did he want to fix something?

Or was he just trying to convince himself that he wasn't as horrible as he had begun to realize?

"…Forget it," Cassian muttered, grabbing the box.

Diana didn't stop him.

She simply watched, her golden eyes unreadable.

Cassian turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

But as he walked away, the weight of Lucien's flinch, Diana's indifference, and his own suffocating guilt followed him like a shadow.