The Empress's Harem and Other Unwanted Side Hustles

Liliana stood at the center of attention, a radiant smile gracing her lips as she spoke sweetly to the gathered nobles. She was dressed in an extravagant white gown adorned with shimmering jewels, lace cascading like waves down her arms.

Every inch of her attire screamed delicate, innocent, and pure—the perfect image of a devoted queen.

She knew exactly how to play the role.

And today would be no different.

The hall was filled with ministers, nobles, and foreign envoys, all waiting for the start of the meeting. She had expected Diana to arrive soon—expected the woman to make a fool of herself in the scandalous red dress she had so graciously sent to her.

The moment Diana stepped inside wearing that disgraceful thing, Liliana would act shocked, pretend to be concerned, and watch as the nobles whispered about how shameless their former Empress was.

It was perfect.

Cassian might have insisted on bringing Diana today—his reasons beyond Liliana's understanding—but in the end, it wouldn't matter. Diana would humiliate herself, and Liliana would be there to comfort her beloved Emperor afterward.

Then—

"His Majesty and Her Majesty, the Empress—entering the hall!"

All eyes turned toward the grand doors as the room fell silent.

Liliana smirked, knowing Diana's downfall was only moments away.

But then—

A quiet gasp rippled through the room.

And Liliana's smirk froze.

Because the woman standing at Cassian's side was not a humiliated, scandalous mess—she was Diana Hinsdale.

And she looked magnificent.

Dressed in a sharp, tailored ensemble, Diana strode forward with effortless confidence, a long navy coat flowing behind her.

Silver embroidery caught the light, weaving delicate patterns along the edges of her fitted jacket. The trousers, structured yet elegant, gave her a silhouette of power—commanding yet refined.

And at her hip—

A sword.

Liliana's stomach twisted.

Diana wasn't merely walking into the hall.

She was claiming it.

The nobles stood in stunned silence as Cassian escorted Diana forward, though it felt more like Diana was leading him. The contrast was striking—Cassian in his golden imperial robes, Diana in her dark, authoritative attire.

Liliana clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palm.

Why?

Why wasn't Diana being ridiculed?

Why were the nobles watching her in awe?

She turned her gaze toward Cassian, expecting to see anger in his eyes—frustration, at the very least—but instead, his expression was unreadable. He was staring at Diana, his jaw tight, his movements stiff.

Liliana knew that look.

It was the same expression he had whenever he couldn't control Diana.

And it infuriated her.

Diana walked past her without so much as a glance. As if she was nothing.

Liliana's heart pounded as her fingers twitched toward her skirt.

No, no—this wasn't supposed to happen.

Cassian was supposed to hate this.

He was supposed to be disgusted.

But instead—

He looked utterly defeated.

Diana reached her seat and sat down with a graceful ease, crossing her legs without a care for the strict protocols of court etiquette. She adjusted her glasses—glasses she had never worn before—and pulled out the meeting documents as if she were already bored.

Liliana swallowed hard, feeling the whispers creeping in from the edges of the room.

She felt it in the way the envoys from the Holy Empire hesitated, their expressions unreadable.

She felt it in the way the nobles didn't mock Diana—instead, they watched her with wary respect.

She felt it in the way Cassian finally turned to her, offering her a warm smile, a sweet word—but it felt hollow.

Because despite his attempts to focus on her, his presence had already been claimed by the woman beside him.

Liliana forced a soft giggle, placing a gentle hand on Cassian's arm. "Your Majesty, I was so worried. I wasn't sure if the Empress would arrive on time. I—"

Diana turned a page in her document, her voice cutting through the air.

"Queen Liliana," she said smoothly, not even sparing her a glance. "I appreciate the concern, but I do not require it."

Liliana's breath hitched.

Some of the nobles hid their amusement behind their hands.

Cassian sighed, rubbing his temple as if he were already exhausted.

Liliana hated this.

She forced a smile. "Of course. I only meant to—"

"Shall we begin?" Diana cut her off, adjusting her glasses again.

It was infuriating.

Like Liliana wasn't even worth her attention.

Liliana's fingers curled against her lap, but she forced herself to remain composed.

She glanced around the room, looking for any sort of support—but then—

Her eyes landed on him.

Lucien Nightbane.

Standing at the edge of the hall, dressed in the standard dark attire of a knight-in-training, his golden hair gleaming under the morning light. His violet eyes were unreadable, his posture relaxed yet sharp, like a wolf watching a gathering of sheep.

He was supposed to be just another servant among the guards—just another lowly knight standing among Cassian's men.

But—

He stood out.

Despite his silence, despite his lack of noble titles, his presence was undeniable.

And Diana—

Diana nodded to him.

Not to Cassian.

Not to Liliana.

To him.

Liliana felt a sharp, sinking feeling in her chest.

It was a single gesture.

But it felt like something shifting.

Like the game she thought she controlled was slipping through her fingers.

The meeting began.

Liliana felt like she had already lost.

****

Diana leaned back in her chair, her golden eyes scanning the hall, but her mind wasn't on the present discussion. It was on her.

Cardinal Celline.

Dressed in the pristine white and crimson robes of the Holy Empire, the woman sat with a composed expression, her hands delicately folded on the table. Her long silver-blond hair, loosely tied, framed a face that was as soft as it was sorrowful—like someone who had already seen too much of the world's cruelty yet still chose to remain gentle.

Diana hated it.

Hated how her gaze was drawn to this woman.

Hated how even in this life, she couldn't forget what happened in the last one.

In her past life, Celline had died screaming—burned at the stake as a heretic.

Her crime?

Trying to save people.

Trying to expose the Holy Empire's corruption, the human experimentation they conducted in secret, the horrors they claimed were done in God's name.

The commoners had adored her, had wept when she was dragged to her execution. Even the nobles, who rarely cared for those without power, had turned their heads away, unable to stomach the sight.

And Diana—

Diana had stood there, watching it happen.

She had extended a hand, just before the flames consumed her, whispering, Work with me. Let's destroy them together.

And Celline, bound in chains, had smiled sadly.

"How can I kill my own?"

"May God grant me mercy, Empress."

Diana had clenched her fists then, seething, frustrated, helpless.

"How can you love something that hates you?" she had wanted to scream.

But Celline had only looked at her knowingly, as if Diana was the one who didn't understand.

"Are we not the same?"

Diana had hated that.

Had hated how Celline had seen right through her.

Because in the end, Celline had died for them, just as Diana had died for Cassian.

And now, here she was again—alive.

Back in this room, listening to the murmurs of politics and trade, surrounded by men with slimy words and empty promises.

Diana's grip on her documents tightened.

She had sworn to herself she would not repeat the past.

And yet, looking at Celline, she felt that same frustration creeping up again.

Why had she come here?

Did she already suspect something?

Did she still hold those same dangerous ideals?

Or—

Did she already know she was walking toward death again?

Diana exhaled slowly, schooling her expression back into neutrality. The meeting had begun, and her silence was already being noticed.

The discussions dragged on—taxation, trade agreements, the ongoing issues with flooding in the eastern regions. The Holy Empire's envoys spoke in practiced diplomacy, their words slippery, their expressions unreadable.

Cassian was the one leading the talks, as always. He asked sharp questions, negotiated terms, and carried the weight of the empire's interests on his back.

Liliana, seated beside him, smiled sweetly, nodding in agreement every now and then—but it was clear to anyone paying attention that she had no real interest in these discussions.

And why would she?

Liliana had never needed to work for anything.

She had always been the beloved one, the victim, the one everyone protected.

Diana's gaze flickered back to Celline, who was still listening with a serene expression, though her sharp blue eyes told a different story.

She's watching.

She's evaluating everything.

Diana could already tell—Celline didn't trust the people around her.

And neither did she.

Cassian's voice cut through the murmurs of the room.

"We must discuss the refugee situation," he said. "With the floods in the border regions, there have been increasing numbers of displaced people seeking shelter in our lands. The Holy Empire has always emphasized charity, so I assume we will have your cooperation in ensuring these people are taken care of?"

One of the Holy Empire's delegates—a man Diana recognized as Count Gervais—cleared his throat. "Of course, Your Majesty. The Holy Empire has always believed in assisting those in need. However, there is the matter of maintaining order. Refugees, while deserving of aid, can bring... instability."

Diana resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

How typical.

Cassian didn't seem impressed either. "Instability," he echoed flatly.

"Yes," Gervais continued. "Surely, Your Majesty understands. There have already been cases of theft, of unrest. If we do not control the influx, we may face long-term consequences."

Cassian leaned back slightly. "So your solution is?"

"We propose... a structured system," Gervais said. "Perhaps designated zones, under careful supervision. Temporary housing until they can be properly integrated."

Diana almost laughed.

Ah, so you want a cage.

Liliana, ever the performer, let out a delicate sigh. "It is a difficult situation," she murmured. "We must think of our people's safety as well."

Celline finally spoke.

"There is no instability without cause," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Desperation leads people to desperate actions. If we focus only on control and not relief, we will not solve the problem—we will only delay it."

Diana's eyes flickered toward her.

Celline's expression remained calm, but there was something in her gaze—a fire.

Even here, even now, she was speaking for the powerless.

Diana closed her eyes for a brief second, memories flashing behind her lids.

"Are we not the same?"

She inhaled deeply and opened them again.

She was not the same woman as before.

And this time, she wouldn't just stand by and watch.

She leaned forward, finally drawing attention to herself for the first time since the meeting began.

"A structured system isn't the worst idea," she said, her voice measured. "But if you treat them as criminals before they've committed any crime, they will become exactly what you expect them to be."

The room fell silent.

Gervais frowned. "Your Majesty—"

Diana tilted her head slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Did I interrupt?"

Gervais hesitated, clearly unsure whether to answer.

Cassian, who had been quietly watching Diana since she first spoke, exhaled through his nose. "Continue," he said, rubbing his temple.

Diana offered him a mockingly sweet smile before turning back to the delegates. "Refugees are not stray dogs to be herded into cages. If we are to host them, we should be giving them opportunities to integrate into society. Education, apprenticeships, temporary labor positions. If they have something to work for, they are less likely to take what they need through unlawful means."

Celline's gaze met hers, unreadable.

Diana could almost feel the question in her eyes.

Who are you?