You know what they say – what's good for the goose is good for the gander, although in the case of Men of the Harem (from the same writing-and-adaptation team as The Remarried Empress) we ought to reverse those genders. Latrasil, better known as Latil, never expected to ascend the throne of her nation, but after her father's murder and her oldest brother's decision to take the equivalent of religious orders, that's just where she finds herself. It wasn't just line of succession issues that surprised her – up until five years before the story's present day, Latil believed that she would marry Prince Hyacinth of a neighboring country. The two met when he was studying in her kingdom, fell in love, and then were abruptly separated when a coup attempt sent Hyacinth running home to fix things. The next time Latil heard from him, it was an invitation to his marriage – to someone else.

This could be said to be the inciting incident of Latil's story, although as she goes on, it feels like that may be selling her a bit short. Unlike Empress Navier of The Remarried Empress, Latil isn't a perfect lady. She may not have been raised to take the throne (that role was meant for her oldest brother, who opted out of ruling to become a sage), but since she got it, she has no intention of just sitting back and letting others use her. If anything, Hyacinth's betrayal opens her eyes to the unequal treatment she's been getting as a woman. When she attends his wedding (at her insistence; her father didn't force her to go), he tells her that his marriage to Aini is strictly political and that if she can wait five years, he'll divorce her and maintain his chastity to be faithful to Latil. He's shocked when she rejects this offer, because it occurs to her that, by prevailing international customs, even if Hyacinth leaves Aini, he'll still have a harem full of consorts, something that won't change if he marries Latil. And suddenly, being treated like all the other women doesn't sound like a great deal for her.

At this point, it should be evident to readers of The Remarried Empress that original author Alphatart has a few thematic elements linking their works. Chief among them is the treatment of wives and mistresses, and how the women can appear complicit in their entrapment. Hyacinth is Sovieshu Lite, thinking he's doing what's best for himself and Latil, but ultimately only really thinking about his own convenience, while Latil is a more overtly proactive Navier. She's not content to run things behind the scenes, she's going to be the scenes, and you'd better believe that hell hath no fury like her. Even more interesting is how she chooses to fight back. When she takes the throne, Latil isn't an “empress,” she claims the title of emperor and wears masculine clothing. And she's not going to break with (male) tradition and have only one royal consort; if the men can have harems, so can she.

This volume is much more about Latil proving that she can play like the boys than anything with romance or politics, although both elements are in place for later deployment. Courtiers sputter about her decisions, essentially, in their deepest hearts, aghast that a woman might want to have sex with multiple men or have children with different men. The two harem members who join in this volume aren't happy that they're not the royal consort (although Klein is laboring under a pretty major misconception.) The only people who unequivocally have Latil's back are her bodyguard Sir Sonnaught and her childhood nanny. If Latil were in the headspace to see it, I would peg Sonnaught as the true romantic interest of the series, but to her, he's just her brother's friend, and given how Latil was burned by love before, she may well not have a singular romantic lead in her story. And really, the main point of this volume is that she's remaking her world; if her motivation is making Hyacinth squirm, so be it.

HereLee's adaptation of Alphatart's original novel isn't quite as smooth as in the previous series the two worked on together. It occasionally feels as if we're missing a page or two in the narrative, and the story doesn't flow as smoothly as it could. Still, the portrayal of Latil as a flawed but determined heroine is excellent, and you don't get much more literal in the reverse harem genre than this, something that is also done well. Character and place names lack unifying elements, making every name sound a little awkward, but Yeongbin's art is beautiful. The details of backgrounds and clothing make this a delight to look at.

Men of the Harem explores a female power fantasy we rarely see. Latil is exercising and remaking her power as she sees fit, and we're allowed to see the flaws in her thinking that might get her into trouble later, at least with the more stodgy members of her court. It's an interesting book and a very good reminder that sometimes, to get the world you want, you have to burn parts of the old one to the ground.