The Empress's Harem and Other Unwanted Side Hustles

Lucien sat in the large porcelain bathtub, his small hands gripping the edges, his body submerged in the warm water.

His fingers were pale and wrinkled from sitting in the bath for too long, but he didn't want to move.

His thoughts wouldn't stop.

His father's words echoed in his head.

"No tutor? Then don't bother."

Lucien clenched his fists under the water.

Did he disappoint them?

Was he too weak? Too useless?

His chest felt tight.

He knew his mother had fought for him today. He knew she had stood up to the Emperor.

But what if she got tired of him too?

What if she left him like everyone else?

The water rippled slightly as he trembled.

He lowered his head, staring at his reflection.

His grey eyes looked dull, lifeless.

Like his father's.

The thought made his stomach twist.

Would he become just like him?

The door creaked open.

Lucien immediately tensed.

His body shrank into the water, his breath catching in his throat.

But the person who entered didn't scold him for being slow.

Didn't tell him to stop wasting time.

Instead, Diana walked in calmly, her silver hair tied back, her tailored white shirt slightly unbuttoned at the collar.

She wasn't wearing a gown.

She wasn't covered in jewelry.

She looked… normal.

Lucien blinked at her in confusion.

Diana sat down on the chair near the bed, crossing one leg over the other, her sharp gaze settling on him.

"How much have you learned from your tutors so far?" she asked.

Lucien swallowed.

He carefully stepped out of the bath, drying himself quickly before slipping into the soft nightwear the maids had left for him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his small legs dangling over the floor.

"...A little," he admitted softly.

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Be specific."

Lucien hesitated.

Then, slowly, he recited what he had learned.

His history lessons were scattered—fragments of events with no real depth.

His etiquette lessons were strict but shallow—mostly about posture and memorizing rules.

His swordsmanship training had barely begun—he had been forced to hold a wooden sword for hours, but no one had taught him how to use it properly.

Trade and politics? Hardly anything.

Magic?

He had never even been allowed to test his affinity.

Diana frowned.

Lucien flinched.

She was angry.

She was disappointed.

He lowered his head, gripping the sheets tightly.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered.

Diana sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temple.

"Why are you apologizing?"

Lucien bit his lip. "...Because I'm stupid?"

Silence.

Lucien didn't dare look up.

He waited.

Waited for the sharp words.

For the cold scolding.

For his mother's patience to finally run out.

But it never came.

Instead, he felt a hand on his head.

A warm, steady hand.

Lucien's breath hitched as Diana gently ruffled his hair.

"You're not stupid, Lucien," she said, her voice calm but firm. "You were just never taught properly."

Lucien blinked up at her.

Diana leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"From now on, I will handle your education personally," she stated. "You will learn etiquette, war, military strategy, and swordsmanship directly from me."

Lucien's eyes widened.

His mother would teach him?

"But…" he hesitated. "What about trade and politics? And magic?"

Diana smirked slightly. "I have two people in mind for those subjects."

Lucien tilted his head. "Who?"

"You'll see soon enough."

Lucien fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve. "Will they be nice?"

Diana chuckled. "No."

Lucien shrank a little.

"But they will be the best," Diana continued. "And I'll make sure they teach you properly."

Lucien hesitated.

He wasn't sure he could do it.

Could he really learn all of that?

Could he really live up to his mother's expectations?

"...What if I'm not good enough?" he asked quietly.

Diana's expression softened.

She reached out, lifting his small hand in hers.

"Then we'll try again," she said simply.

Lucien stared at her.

His mother had never spoken to him like this before.

She had always been dramatic, emotional, unpredictable.

But now?

She was steady.

Unwavering.

Safe.

Lucien swallowed hard.

"...O-Okay."

Diana gave his hand a small squeeze before letting go.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

Lucien hesitated, but then he shyly reached out and grasped the edge of her sleeve.

Diana blinked in surprise.

"...Yes," he admitted softly.

Diana smiled gently. "Then let's eat."

She stood and guided him toward the small dining table set up in his room.

As they ate, she began their first lesson.

"Tell me," she said, cutting a piece of meat. "What do you know about the founding of the Empire?"

Lucien thought for a moment.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat.

"...A long time ago, there was a war?"

Diana sighed. "Sit here."

She patted her lap.

Lucien froze.

He glanced at her hesitantly.

"...I'm too big," he mumbled.

Diana smirked. "You're five, Lucien. Get over here."

After a moment, Lucien carefully climbed onto her lap.

She adjusted him so he sat comfortably, his small back leaning against her chest.

Then, she began to speak.

She told him about the first Emperor. About the great wars. About the rise of the imperial family.

Lucien listened, enraptured.

His mother's voice was calm, steady, soothing.

For the first time…

History didn't feel boring.

It felt alive.

He leaned against her, his fingers curling slightly against her sleeve.

Diana continued, her hand resting on his back.

She didn't rush him.

Didn't scold him for being slow.

Didn't tell him he was useless.

---

The candlelight flickered softly in the dimly lit bedroom. The scent of lavender and old parchment lingered in the air as Diana turned a page in her book.

Lucien lay beside her, snug beneath the thick blankets, his small head resting against her arm.

He had long since grown accustomed to sleeping beside his mother.

Diana didn't mind.

She found it strangely comforting—the soft weight of her son pressed against her side, the steady rhythm of his breaths.

In her past life, she had spent too many nights alone. Too many nights drowning in regret and sorrow.

But not this time.

This time, she would cherish the warmth while she still had it.

Lucien peeked up at her as she quietly read, his grey eyes shining with curiosity.

After a moment, he spoke.

"Mother?"

"Hm?" Diana hummed, her fingers lazily flipping a page.

"You said you have two people in mind to teach me," Lucien mumbled, shifting slightly under the blanket. "Who are they?"

Diana smiled, closing her book.

"They are…" she paused, choosing her words carefully. "Unusual."

Lucien blinked up at her, waiting.

Diana leaned back against the pillows, one arm draped behind her head.

"Your politics teacher is someone with a rather shady background," she said lightly.

Lucien's eyes widened.

"Shady?" he echoed.

Diana smirked. "Very shady."

Lucien frowned. "But… but aren't teachers supposed to be, um… not shady?"

Diana chuckled. "That depends on what kind of teacher you need."

Lucien tilted his head. "What's wrong with him?"

Diana tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Well," she said, "he hates paperwork. He could probably conquer the world if he wanted to. But he's too lazy, so instead, he ran away from home."

Lucien's mouth fell open slightly.

"H-He ran away from home?!"

Diana nodded sagely. "Yes. Because responsibility is his worst enemy."

Lucien furrowed his brows.

"But… if he hates responsibility, will he even want to teach me?"

Diana smirked. "Oh, he won't want to. That's why I'll have to persuade him."

Lucien hesitated. "...How?"

Diana's smile turned cryptic.

"You'll see."

Lucien pouted but didn't press further.

Diana then continued.

"As for your magic teacher…"

Lucien perked up.

"He's a maniac."

Lucien stiffened.

Diana laughed at his reaction.

"He's not dangerous," she reassured. "Well, not to you."

Lucien frowned. "Then… what kind of maniac?"

Diana's lips twitched in amusement.

"The kind who loves magic so much he forgets to eat, sleep, or talk to people properly," she said.

Lucien's expression turned thoughtful.

"So… he's really strong?"

"The strongest," Diana confirmed.

Lucien bit his lip.

"...Mother, where did you find them?"

Diana's smile faltered slightly.

A memory stirred.

A battlefield, shrouded in smoke.

Corpses littering the ground.

Blood soaking the earth.

And in the distance, standing atop a mountain of bodies, a man dressed in dark robes, his golden eyes gleaming like a predator's.

The Underworld King.

He had ruled the empire's criminal network with an iron grip.

In her past life, he had remained neutral—never aligning with the imperial family, nor the rebels.

Until the war had reached his doorstep.

Until Diana had given him a reason to choose a side.

She remembered the first time they met—he had sat lazily on a throne made of bones, watching her with sharp amusement.

"An empress begging for help? How rare."

"I don't beg," she had replied coldly. "I negotiate."

"And what can you offer me that I don't already have?"

Diana had smiled then, slow and knowing.

"A way to ruin your enemies without lifting a single finger."

She had outplayed him.

And he had hated it.

But in the end…

He had helped her.

Then there was the other one.

The Magic Tower Master.

A madman obsessed with knowledge.

Diana had met him in the middle of battle, surrounded by flames and destruction.

He had been laughing.

Laughing as the world burned around him.

"What a fascinating war!" he had exclaimed, eyes gleaming with unrestrained excitement. "Do you mind if I use this as an experiment?"

Diana had stared at him blankly.

"I will throw you into the enemy camp myself if you don't shut up."

The man had grinned.

"Oh? I like you."

And just like that, he had decided to follow her.

Not out of loyalty.

Not out of duty.

But because he was bored and she was interesting.

Diana exhaled softly, shaking off the memory.

They hadn't met her yet in this life.

But they would.

And she would make sure they fell into her hands again.

Lucien tugged at her sleeve, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Mother?" he asked softly.

Diana glanced down at him.

He was watching her with wide, curious eyes.

"You were thinking about something," he said.

Diana smiled.

"Just remembering old friends," she murmured.

Lucien tilted his head. "Are they good people?"

Diana chuckled.

"That depends on your definition of 'good,'" she said.

Lucien frowned.

Diana reached out and tucked him under the blanket.

"You'll understand when you meet them," she said.

Lucien still looked unsure, but he didn't argue.

Instead, he hesitated before gripping the blanket tightly.

"...Mother," he mumbled.

"Hm?"

Lucien flushed slightly.

"...Will you stay?" he asked softly.

Diana blinked.

Then, slowly, she smiled.

"Of course," she said.

She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Lucien turned bright red, quickly burying himself under the blanket.

Diana chuckled at his reaction.

For now…

She would let him sleep in peace.

But soon, very soon…

She would begin laying the traps.

And those two bastards would have no choice but to fall right in.