The Empress's Harem and Other Unwanted Side Hustles

Diana lounged on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, her golden eyes half-lidded with boredom. She had been reading a book—had being the key word—until Lucius strolled into the room, holding a stack of documents.

The sight of paperwork made her sigh.

"I hope you're not here to make me do actual work."

Lucius smirked, tossing the stack onto the table beside her. "Unfortunately for you, I am."

Diana groaned. "Just burn it."

Lucius snorted but didn't argue. He flopped onto the couch beside her, stretching his arms behind his head. "It's about Evan."

At that, Diana perked up slightly. "Evan?"

Lucius nodded. "That kid is a monster."

Diana arched an eyebrow. "You say that about Lucien too."

Lucius exhaled. "That's because it's true."

Diana chuckled.

Lucius grabbed one of the documents and tapped it against his knee. "Evan learns fast. Too fast. It's barely been a week, and he's already picked up reading, writing, and politics. And he has a photographic memory—he remembers everything he sees once."

Diana hummed. "That's impressive."

"It's terrifying," Lucius corrected. "He already understands that if you keep gaining power, people will try to put Lucien on the throne."

Diana sighed and stretched her arms lazily. "Well, if Lucien doesn't want the throne, I'll just destroy the monarchy."

Lucius blinked.

Then stared at her.

"...Excuse me?"

Diana tilted her head, a smirk playing at her lips. "What? If those old foxes try to use my cute son as a pawn, I'll simply dismantle the whole system."

Lucius ran a hand down his face. "You say that like it's as easy as burning a letter."

Diana shrugged. "It's not hard."

Lucius groaned. "Diana."

Diana yawned and waved a hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. I won't go that far yet. But if anyone pushes Lucien into that mess, they'll regret it."

Lucius eyed her warily but didn't argue. He had no doubt she meant what she said.

Diana sat up, stretching. "So, why did you really come?"

Lucius leaned back against the couch. "The Emperor invited you to a general meeting."

Diana blinked. "Cassian?"

Lucius nodded. "Most likely because of the Holy Empire delegates."

Diana frowned. "Why would that concern me?"

Lucius shrugged. "Your mother was a paladin."

Diana scowled. "That doesn't mean I want anything to do with them."

Lucius smirked. "Try telling them that."

Diana sighed, rubbing her temples.

The Holy Empire had always been a thorn in her side. Even in her past life, they had meddled in her affairs—judging, whispering, waiting for her to slip.

And now, they were back again.

Lucius lazily tilted his head toward the corner of the room, where a large box sat on the table. "Speaking of annoying things, that's from the 'queen'."

Diana stared at it.

Then groaned.

"Liliana?"

Lucius nodded.

Diana narrowed her eyes at the box. "What is it?"

"A dress," Lucius said.

Diana's lips curled. "Open it."

Lucius sighed and reached for the box. He tugged off the ribbon, lifted the lid, and—

He whistled lowly.

Diana peeked inside.

Then, she laughed.

It was red.

A scandalous shade of red.

The fabric was silky and clung to the body, with a plunging neckline and intricate embroidery.

It was exactly the kind of dress she had worn in her past life—the kind that had earned her whispers of being a seductress.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Familiar, isn't it?"

Diana smirked. "Liliana never changes."

In her past life, she had worn something just like this to a banquet. Back then, she had been invited as Empress, while Liliana had stood beside Cassian, playing the gentle, perfect consort.

And Diana?

She had been humiliated.

But now…

Diana's smirk widened. "Does she really think this will work again?"

Lucius chuckled. "She certainly hopes so."

Diana picked up the dress, letting the fabric slip between her fingers. "I'm supposed to wear this to the meeting?"

Lucius nodded. "And the meeting is the day after tomorrow."

Diana sighed. "Of course. Classic last-minute sabotage."

Liliana had probably intercepted the invitation.

Diana should have officially been Cassian's partner for this event, meaning she should have received notice weeks ago.

Instead, Liliana had delayed it until the last moment, giving Diana no time to prepare.

Diana rolled her eyes. "Annoying."

Lucius smirked. "So? What will you do?"

Diana thought for a moment.

Then, she turned to Lucius. "Do you know someone who can help me?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "With what?"

Diana waved at the dress. "I'm not wearing this. I need a proper outfit. But my usual designer is in the west, and I don't have time to send word."

Lucius tapped his chin in thought. "Well… there is someone."

Diana leaned forward. "Who?"

Lucius grinned. "The Marchioness of Rozen."

Diana blinked. "Rozen?"

Lucius nodded. "She's an eccentric old woman, but she's a genius with fabric. And more importantly, she hates Liliana."

Diana smirked. "Perfect."

Lucius leaned back, stretching. "I'll arrange it. But you owe me."

Diana chuckled. "Fine. I'll buy you a drink."

Lucius scoffed. "At least make it two drinks."

Diana laughed and flicked his forehead.

Lucius grumbled, rubbing the spot, but then—

To Diana's surprise, he suddenly leaned over.

And rested his head on her shoulder.

Diana blinked.

Lucius wasn't the type to seek physical comfort.

And she wasn't the type to allow people close.

Yet…

She didn't move.

Lucius let out a sigh. "You've been busy."

Diana hummed. "I always am."

Lucius closed his eyes. "Try not to set the palace on fire tomorrow."

Diana smirked. "No promises."

Lucius chuckled.

And for a moment, they sat in comfortable silence.

Outside, the palace continued to scheme.

But inside, Diana simply leaned back against the couch, smirking.

If Liliana wanted a battle…

Then a battle she would get.

*****

Diana stood in front of the mirror, running her fingers over the smooth fabric of her new attire. The tailor had done an exceptional job despite the rushed timing, though she still didn't understand why he had looked terrified when Lucius dragged him into the palace.

Well, she didn't care either.

The Underworld King had his ways.

And Diana had more important things to focus on.

She adjusted the cuffs of her jacket, admiring the balance between nobility and power reflected in the structured cut and silver embroidery. Unlike the extravagant gowns expected of an Empress, this outfit was practical yet regal—tailored trousers for ease of movement, a long outer coat that flowed with authority, and intricate lace accents that softened the strong silhouette.

It was her.

Neither a warrior nor a queen.

Not a knight, nor an Empress in the way the palace demanded.

Just Diana.

She glanced at her reflection once more. No elaborate makeup, just a simple touch of color to keep her from looking exhausted. Her silver hair was tied into a high ponytail, secured with a blue-and-white tassel ribbon—a keepsake from her late mother. The only jewelry she wore was a pair of blue drop earrings, small but striking.

Diana let out a slow breath.

It was time.

Outside the Empress' Palace, Cassian was already waiting for her.

The Emperor looked as regal as ever in his golden attire, his black hair and gray eyes making him a striking figure beneath the morning sun. He stood beside the grand carriage, his expression unreadable as he watched her approach.

Diana barely spared him a glance.

She had expected him to say something about her attire. About how she had once again ruined Liliana's "hard work" by refusing to play the role of an Empress properly.

And indeed, as she reached the carriage, Cassian finally spoke.

"You're wasting Liliana's effort," he said, his voice even. "She went out of her way to prepare a dress for you."

Diana smirked, stepping past him. "I never asked her to."

Cassian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Must you always be this difficult?"

Diana gave him a sidelong glance as she placed a foot onto the carriage step. "I could ask you the same thing."

He reached out to offer his hand, but she ignored it, climbing into the carriage without his help.

Cassian's jaw tightened, but he followed suit, settling into the seat across from her as the carriage began to move toward the Grand Palace.

For a moment, silence filled the space between them.

Then—

"Have you no shame?" Cassian asked suddenly, his gaze steady on her.

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

Cassian leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter but no less firm. "I've given up, yes. But the delegates—do you think they will respect you if you refuse to act like an Empress?"

Diana scoffed. "I am an Empress, Cassian. No amount of silk and jewels changes that."

"That's not the point," he snapped. His fingers curled into fists against his lap. "This is diplomacy. Appearances matter."

Diana tilted her head. "And whose appearance are you concerned about? Mine? Or yours?"

Cassian's lips parted as if to retort, but then he hesitated. His gray eyes flickered with something unreadable before he looked away.

Diana watched him for a moment, a slow realization settling in her chest.

He looked... tired.

Not in the way one did after a sleepless night, but in a way that came from something deeper.

A tiredness of the heart.

She thought back to her past life.

If only Cassian had loved someone better than Liliana—perhaps a mistress who didn't want to harm her and her son—perhaps she could have shared.

But no...

Diana clenched her jaw.

She had been stupid back then.

Stupid to believe that her position as Empress would keep her safe.

Stupid to believe that Cassian's indifference wouldn't turn into apathy.

It had taken Lucien's death for her to realize just how foolish she had been.

And now?

She would never let history repeat itself.

She sighed and leaned back against the seat. "I know what I'm doing, Cassian."

He frowned, watching her carefully. "Do you?"

Diana smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Cassian exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

They didn't speak again for the rest of the ride.

But as they approached the Grand Palace, Diana could feel his gaze lingering on her, filled with something between frustration and something far too late to matter.

And she?

She only stared out the window.

Her path was already set.