The Price of a Man
Summary: After decimating the army of another and acquiring more land under your growing rule, you take some time to look around. While walking around you come across the public punishment of a man from his wife. The image seems to linger within some of your own harem members and while you like to think you are not soft, you cannot bear seeing the strain on your own harem members' face and act accordingly.
Pairing: Imperial!Reader, Concubine!Characters. Hints of Reader x Diluc, Zhongli x reader. Kaveh x Reader. But there is not much romance in this piece.
CW: Reverse Harem, cursing, morally grey reader. Heavy descriptions of matriatchial settings, sexism aimed towards men. Mentions of killing, starting a fire, whipping (not by reader), punishments (not by reader), the selling of men, threats from reader but not towards harem members.
Notes: This doesn't have much romance to it as I tried to focus more on the plot and politics which was, no doubt, one of the hardest things to write. Dialogue may be choppy.
Bodies brush against one another, a small crowd forming in the front of an estate. Women look on with a mixture of disinterest or even amusement, lips quirking up. Soft, muffled sounds of voices that are only covered by the sound of rushing wind and the echoing crack of something landing on something, or rather someone.
It was only the men who looked uncomfortable by they don't move from their wife's side. Flinches leave some of them as if feeling the hit on their own skin; others have their head bowed, sympathy in their eyes though they would never disrupt. If someone is bold enough to hit someone in public it is because they have a high enough position to be overlooked. Or in other words, there will be no consequences.
Leather. You can tell just by the sound that comes from it. Most likely some kind of whip but the sound is muffled enough that you know it's not hitting directly on skin - not that it will help with the pain.
By the way you can hear the sound even with the conversations and loudness of children running around, you don't doubt that whoever is flicking the whip has more than enough strength in their arms to break skin even through clothes.
The view is hidden from you, not that you minded. You were more than happy to just walk right by, hardly giving another glance to see what was going on. Your feet pause only when the two figures you were walking with are no longer next to you.
A glance over your shoulder and Diluc stands still, eyes wide, mouth parted that reveals only the smallest sliver of his tongue that licks at his bottom lip. His body was perfectly still, only the small rise and fall of his chest visible under the red robes but his breaths were shorter than normal. Next to him, the smaller form of Xiao had his head bowed and turned away from the crowd. His jaw flexed, hands balled into fists at his side; knuckles whitening by the second, no doubt his nails are about to break through his skin.
You follow Diluc's gaze and by now the crowd opens up a little, allowing small peeks of what had drawn all the attention. You stare blankly at the male on his knees, hands poised on his lap. The figure's back was angled towards you, giving you a full view of the purple bruises that marred his skin. Yellowish specks of his skin peaks out from underneath the blooming red whip marks. All of this was visible to anyone's eyes due to the dark maroon robe that was pooled at his waist now; not allowing him to cover any of the marks.
The women standing above him made you let out your own sigh, rolling your eyes under the cloth wrapped around your head. The Ministry. You vaguely recognize her, she was in charge of retaining knowledge and long held secrets of the land. What was her name? You can't remember it but it hardly matters. You do remember that she was furious and bold enough to insult you. You had found it amusing at the time which seemed to infuriate her even more.
Your eyes linger on the blonde male kneeling on the ground, tears in his eyes that fell silently down his cheeks but he made no move to try and cover himself up or defend himself. Properly trained, you think wryly. Punished into obedience, you correct yourself.
You know the people of this land are still hesitant about your arrival. You had come in and nearly massacred more than half of their army. No need to cause more chaos by getting involved with someone the people look up to. The Ministry members are practically divine beings to the public, something that has made you snort and chuckle.
You don't spare another glance as you face forward again, Zhongli by your side as the both of you walk forward a few paces.
"Your grace." Your feet stop their movements, looking over your shoulder as you look at Diluc.
Even he appeared shock at his own interruption. His lips part before they quickly close again, not a single sound leaving him. His eyes flicker from you to the man kneeling on the floor before back to you. There is an echo of the whip landing on skin once again and Diluc winces as if he was the one hit.
He doesn't have to say anything. You can read him without any of your magic. A bleeding heart. No doubt he feels the pain of the other like it's own. He cares too much.
"You want to save him?" You face him His hands twitch at his side, fighting the urge to curl them into his robes. He doesn't reply though, head bowed.
"He is hardly the first to be given such a public punishment. He won't be the last either. Will you intervene?" Your words goad him even if you both know nothing will come of it. "What, or do you think I should intervene?"
Diluc's own expression drops; Xiao's pinches together as he stares up at you. Zhongli is the only one who looks on impassively.
"Sure," you roll your shoulders, hands clasped behind you. "I could if I wanted to but I don't. I intervene and all it does is lead to problems with the ministry. Problems that go beyond one single man being given a public lashing for a punishment. He is none of my concern and he is none of yours either."
"Your Grace," Diluc tries again, this time more firmly but he still wavers. His voice is soft but edged with something desperate. "Please..."
Your gaze flicks back to him, catching the way his head remains bowed, refusing to meet your eyes directly. He's trying, you know. Trying to speak out, unable to ignore such a scene of cruelty. It's amusing in its futility.
"You've grown bold," you murmur, stepping closer. Your tone is teasing, but your words make him flinch. "Tell me, what will you do? Give him your robe? Promise him it gets better?"
Diluc's lips part, trembling slightly as he struggles to form a response. Xiao shifts uneasily beside him, his own hands clenched into fists, but he doesn't speak out of turn.
"Your silence tells me enough." You step away again, your hands clasped loosely behind your back. The sound of another lash cuts through the air, and the man kneeling lets out a choked gasp.
Diluc flinches. Xiao glowers. You don't miss it.
"Zhongli," you say suddenly, your tone sharp enough to make your knight snap to attention. He steps forward immediately, bowing his head slightly in deference.
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Take care of something for me," you say, your voice low, almost lazy. "I expect you to be swift."
Zhongli doesn't question you. He doesn't need any more information either. He nods once, his expression unreadable, before turning and walking away without a sound. Diluc and Xiao both glance after him but say nothing, their confusion carefully masked.
You turn back to the scene in front of you, your eyes falling on the ministry woman. She's standing tall, her expression hard, but there's a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes as she watches the punishment unfold.
It isn't long before the commotion begins. Shouts ring out from the direction of the ministry's archive, and the woman in charge stiffens, her eyes darting toward the source of the noise.
"Fire!" someone yells. "The archives are burning!"
The ministry woman curses under her breath, hitching her skirt up and turning to leave. She barks orders to the guards nearby, and soon the punishment is all but forgotten as chaos erupts. The crowd soon dissipates, not longer caring about the punishment. You hear questions about what happened but you don't pay attention to them.
Diluc remains still, hands fisting at the side of his robe despite the fact that it forms wrinkles in his usual pristine clothes. Both him and Xiao are staring up at the growing fire, eyes wide.
"You want to help because he's a man; sure, I understand. You've always had a bleeding heart but he is not the one you need to worry about. The ministry is powerful in these lands, admired. I could very well make a possible enemy of them all because you care far too much."
Your hand curls under Diluc's chin, fingers brushing his jawline as you direct his attention. "It will be your undoing, sweet boy." You whisper low enough for only him to hear. Perhaps your words are cruel but he needs to hear them. You need him to hear them, so that he knows what sympathy can do and it is not always good.
Diluc stares at you, his lips parted slightly as if he wants to speak, but he doesn't. He simply bows his head again, his shoulders trembling faintly with relief.
As Zhongli returns silently to your side, the faint scent of smoke clinging to him, you give him the barest nod of approval. He bows his head in acknowledgment, his expression as calm and composed as ever.
"The man's fate is paused but I doubt it will be the last punishment he faces, he is still bound to his wife."
The man is still kneeling on the ground. His body shakes, body trembling with pain. Without all the attention on him and the punishment looming over his head, he clutches at the robe laying around his hips, his fingers which are red and raw around his nails, tug the robe up and back over his shoulders. The red and purpling marks disappear from view.
"Let us go. Now."
The sound of water dripping fills your ears. The inn wasn't the most extravagant but it was on the outskirts of the land, far away from the ministry and any possible ears straining to learn secrets, something to provide the ministry with the power to kick you out of their land.
Your land now.
On a tatami mat, underneath a wooden gazebo, you gaze at the small pond with brightly colored koi-fish swimming around. Flowers were blooming around, providing a sweet scent in the air. One of your legs is bent at the knees, resting your foot on the ground with your elbow resting on your knee. The other is crossed on the ground in front of you. You take a sip from the small glass, savoring the bitter burn.
The soft brush of fabric gliding against the ground comes up from behind you. Diluc. You do not even need to turn to know. His footsteps were always soft, even, as if he puts a lot of thought into something as simple as walking properly. Well he probably was.
He bends down, settling on his knees adjacent to you on the other tatami mat. You glance at him. He was wearing his nighttime robe and his hair was out of his pristine updo, only pulled back into a ponytail with a few hairs dangling free. You fight the urge to push it behind his ear, tug out the updo, let it all fall and then use it to tug him….
You clear your throat, lowering your hand, placing you glass back on the floor. He refills it even though you didn't ask for him to.
"You're pouting," you muse out, voice level but deceptively blank. Well not exactly, but you know him well enough to know something was wrong. The way his eyes glaze out of focus as he becomes lost in the thought. His fingers that have become a slight pink due to him constantly wringing his hands together. The way his breath gets more labored when he falls too much into the depths of his mind.
He startles, placing the bottle back on the ground and then place his hands on his thighs. You watch as he takes a breath, fingers tapping against his robe. "Forgive me," he murmurs out, voice as soft and gentle as it ever is.
"I did what I could in my position," you shrug, downing the alcohol in the small glass before placing it to the side.
Could you have done more? Yes.
Would you have? No.
The only reason you intervened was because of how much it distressed Diluc and Xiao even if it wasn't as obvious in the latter. The poor man that was being punished is probably hurting more in the privacy of his wife's home. You don't tell Diluc this even though you know he suspects.
"I know," he answered.
He knows you were the reason for the fire. He doesn't address it, not openly because you don't seem to think too much of what you did. You hardly care about it so he decides it is best to just appreciate that you heard him out and did do something about it.
"I cannot get involved in every dispute or wife who punishes their husbands," you wave a hand, lazily explaining as you rest. "It is, by law, their prerogative. We are still the strangers in this nation. I am seen as the ones who massacred their families, tore down their infantry. How do you think it would appear if I came in and decided to alter everything, offer out punishments without any explanation."
You shake your head. It's already a mess with the Ministry pushing back against you. Trying to use sly tricks to get a one-up on you. Pity for them that you know all their tricks.
Diluc knows all of this. He knows. He also knows he shouldn't be causing you any problems. You were right in your words from earlier. He cares too much and he usually tries to push that need to care for others onto you or the other harem members. But when he sees it with his own eyes, the pain, the punishment, the humiliation that other women force onto their husbands, it's hard to forget.
He could have ended up like that. In the beginning of the marriage, he expected to. He expected to be demeaned, punished, used. He was taught to expect it all and bear it without a complaint, to do as his wife requires. He wouldn't say you were kind in the sense other people think about kindness. But you've never raised a hand to him that was meant to inflict pain. You never demeaned him, degraded him. Never let others either. He's treated better than he ever thought possible.
"I'm sorry," he says the only thing he can think of. His head lifts, even with your eyes covered, he knows your eyes meet his. He can feel it with the weight that encompasses him, the air feeling like it is pressing down on him but it's not stifling. It's comforting, like a weighted blanket.
"I know what I did was selfish and based entirely on my own feelings." He thinks back to the man. "I know he was just a single man but no one seemed to care. They all just… watched on," his voice dropped. "And he appeared to be in so much pain. I couldn't - I needed to do something."
But I didn't, he think. You were the one who stopped the man's pain at least for a short while. Diluc couldn't even bring himself to say something to you asides from pleading with you.
"You realize that I stopped nothing, correct? I am sure they will come to know that the fire was orchestrated by me, I'm sure they already think that," you snort, shaking your head. "They are looking for anything to undermine me and once they find even the slightest of a connection, they will not drop it. Especially not those damn Ministry fools."
Diluc's heart aches for numerous reason. The tension in your tone, the tiredness that he's learned to detect with the soft sighs that leave you after you speak. Also for the man, the bruises littering his skin, the wet cheeks, the idea that he could be in the process of being punished right now.
It is stupid. He didn't know the mans name. Didn't know his story but he is sure it was not easy. Yet this man continues to linger in his mind.
He knows he made it more challenging for you, something he never wanted to do. Not when you already have so much on your shoulders.
"I am aware, Your Grace." His voice is defeated. It makes your eye twitch. You roll your shoulders, keeping your gaze in front of you on the small pond.
"Then why must you look so despondent? Did you think a small gesture of kindness would do much in the long run," you shake your head. "Men in his position do not know kindness even if it’s a robe tossed over their shoulders or soft words meant to comfort them."
His eyes lower, face shifting, pinching in a way you know is meant to hold back the whirlwind of emotions inside of him. It leaves an uncomfortable tightening within your chest that you're not accustomed to. For a minute you wonder if it was the alcohol affecting you.
Gods, maybe you were becoming too soft. It is hard to even glance at his downturned face and not feel the need to go and burn down that which is causing him so much grief. It would be easy to. You know who and what is troubling him: two insignificant people in the grand scheme of things.
You've killed others for less. Some of the blood coating your hands comes from individuals who were foolish enough to aim a negative look or inappropriate words towards your harem members. What would be a few more? Though you know killing would cause more problems later on. Most of all, it would not cause Diluc to feel any better.
There is only one thing that will. One action that you really do not care to do but you may do just to stop Diluc's grief.
The negotiation hall was grand, adorned with tapestries of woven gold and deep crimson, but the air felt suffocatingly thick with protocol. You sat at the head of the long, polished table, an emblem of your power, your chin resting lightly on your hand. Beside you stood Zhongli, his impassive face betraying nothing.
Across from you sat Lady Samara, a high-ranking official from the Ministry, her deep emerald robes a testament to her wealth and influence. She sipped delicately from her glass of wine.
“You understand,” she said, her voice honeyed but laced with steel, “that Kaveh is not merely a possession but my husband. Breaking his vow to me would be... unconventional.”
Unconventional. A polite way of saying taboo. You smiled faintly, tilting your head just enough to make her falter. “And yet here we are,” you said, your tone smooth, almost bored. “The longer you delay, the more tempted I am to simply take what I want without regard for your ‘formalities.’ Name your terms."
She chuckled, leaning back in her chair as though she had the upper hand. “You misunderstand me, your grace. This isn’t about price alone. It’s about precedent. If I were to part with him, what would stop others from demanding the same? Vows such as these hold our society together.”
You allowed the silence to stretch, your gaze unwavering. Zhongli shifted slightly behind you, his presence a quiet reminder of your authority. “You forget,” you said at last, your voice soft but cutting, “that I am the precedent.”
Lady Samara stiffened, the tension in the room palpable. “Even so,” she said carefully, “Kaveh is a husband of noble standing. He is educated, refined, and capable in art and homecare. Releasing him from his bond with me will not come cheaply.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You reached for the goblet before you, sipping slowly before setting it down with a deliberate clink. You lean back, folding your hands neatly in your lap. "It appears as if your are the one who misunderstands. This is not a negotiation." The air in the room drops. "The price is a mere courtesy I am giving you. I could just as easily take him by decree if I so desired. The ministry may be a stronghold in this land but the land and all of its people and possession are now under my control."
You let out a sharp laugh, leaning forward, elbows braced on the table. You stare directly at her, watching as she suppressed a shudder even with your eyes covered by a cloth.
"I allowed your ministry to stay in place because I do not want to cause unnecessary riots among the people. But do not think that I will not tear it all down. You know as well as I do that no one would be able to stop me should it ever come down to this."
Her lips tightened, though she quickly masked her irritation with a practiced smile. Though you spot the slightest of wavering in her face at your threat that you made no move to hide. "Of course. But surely Your Grace recognizes the value of maintaining... goodwill, especially with one such as myself."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. "Goodwill, yes. But do not mistake my patience for obligation. Name your price." You repeat at what you said earlier but sharper, letting her know that you are growing bored and tired: a dangerous thing.
Her lips parted, but she hesitated. You could see the calculations racing through her mind. To name a price too high would risk your wrath. To name one too low would devalue her standing. Finally, she said, “Five estates. Three within the capital, two along the southern trade routes.”
You tilted your head, pretending to consider her words, though you had already made up your mind.
“Done,” you said at last, your tone leaving no room for argument.
She blinked, caught off guard by your swift agreement. “And… and a formal decree,” she added hastily, grasping for more leverage. “One that acknowledges my contributions to this nation and ensures my continued influence within the ministry.”
You smirked. “Greedy, aren’t we?” But you nodded nonetheless. “You’ll have your decree. My scribes will prepare the documents by nightfall.”
Her relief was palpable, though she tried to mask it. Rising from her seat, she bowed stiffly, her hands trembling as she gripped her fan. “I thank you for your generosity, Your Grace. Kaveh is now yours."
Zhongli stepped closer once she was out of sight. “You were rather lenient with her.”
“I was fair,” you corrected, rising to your feet. “She thinks she’s won, but she knows the cost that comes with defying me. Besides, it may do good to have some kind of... business transactions with minsitry memebers. This may just yet get us through the door."
You gaze down at the man, his arms are folded, the sleeves of his robe hanging off his elbows revealing marks on his pale skin.
"Kaveh, was it?" You ask. "Just nod, I have no need to hear any long answer." You add on before he can speak.
He nodded, hair falling in front of his eyes which are lowered.
"I want to be clear." You step in front of him, a foot apart. "I am not doing this for you, nor because I have pity or any care for your former situation. I am merely bringing you in my harem because someone dear to me asked for you."
Kaveh's stomach lurched. Asked for him? It sounds like a proposition, one that men who sell their bodies or company would be asked for. Even with the churning of his stomach, the bile burning in his throat he does as he always does: nods and offer a submissive bow of his head.
You incline your head, turning around. "Come."
You lead him back to the carriages, remaining a few steps in front of him. You get to one of the carriages, pulling back the maroon cloth, so he can step inside. "You want to thank someone one, the person who managed to change the course of your fate is inside. Do show your proper appreciation." You hold out a hand to help him up.
Kaveh's eyes are warily looking between you and the opening of the carriage. His feet carry him to the opening, placing his own hand on top of your own, his other hand braces on the edge of the carriage as he steps up and into his new life
