QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL) Chapter 280: Change

Chapter 279

Felix

I finally breathe after she’s left.

The air rushes back into my lungs in a ragged, desperate gasp, as if I’ve been held underwater.

I stand, my legs unsteady. The stack of parchnts blurs into a aningless grey block. I won’t be able to work again tonight.

I leave the office. Velesia is at her post, a statue in the dim torchlight. She bows slightly, a perfect, chanical incline of her head. I barely acknowledge her, my mind a thousand leagues away, already trudging the lonely path to my chambers.

***

Edith

It took two weeks of constant asking. A wife’s gentle probing, a queen’s subtle inquiries. I may have had to threaten his shadow, the snake to finally get so information.

The Duke of Panthers had paid him a visit. And after more pressure, drawn from my own rising panic, he confessed the rest.

A request. An order really.

I cannot leave this in his hands. I’m fond of the king, but I cannot leave this in his hands.My fear is a cold, constant companion. I have seen what happens to those who stall the Panther.

That is why I had this eting organized, in a sunlit salon that feels like a gilded cage.

I look at the wolf noblewoman across from . Marie. She holds her composure like a shield.

"You are not in trouble, Marie."

"It is hard not to feel that way, Your Majesty," she says, her voice carefully level.

"I cannot wish to speak to an old acquaintance?" I ask, layering warmth over the steel beneath.

"We last saw each other years ago, at the academy," she replies, her wariness a palpable force in the room.

"Exactly." I let the word hang. Then, I shift tactics, aiming for a more vulnerable joint. "Don’t be like that. I introduced you to your lover, the other Moonfox."

She rely looks at , her gaze hardening. She sees the move for what it is.

"I understand that was your kindness at the ti," she says, choosing her words with precision, "and not because you wanted... your current seat."

A faint, approving smile touches my lips. Clever girl. "You speak as if one reason negates the other. Kindness and strategy are not mutually exclusive." I place my teacup down.

The soft click is a period in the small talk. "I need a favor."

"Anything within my abilities, Your Grace." The formality is back, walls slamming up.

"That... club. From the academy. The secret one." I keep my voice devoid of judgnt, purely factual. "I’m sure now that you’ve all graduated, there must be sothing analogous. A society. A network. In the capital."

She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. The slight flare of her nostrils, the minute stiffening of her tail against the chair leg—confirmation enough.

"I need you to get a list," I say, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "Of its most prominent mbers. Nobles. Influential commoners. Those who value discretion above all."

Her composure shatters. She leans forward, her hands clenching into fists on her knees, her wolf ears perking straight up in alarm.

"Surely, you cannot ask that."

"I can," I reply, my own voice turning to ice. "And I am."

She ets my gaze, and for the first ti, I see not fear, but furious, principled defiance.

"I cannot. I would rather you send to the guillotine. I will not betray a single soul. Not one na. What you ask is not a favor; it is an execution of trust."

The silence stretches, I see it in her eyes—she ans it. She will choose martyrdom over treachery.

Threatening her will yield nothing but a noble corpse and a scandal I cannot afford.

I change tactics. The hamr did not work; perhaps the lever will.

"Your loyalty is admirable," I say, my voice softening into sothing that is almost genuine. "But I am not doing this for malicious reasons. In fact, my reasoning is sothing that could benefit people of your... specific proclivities."

She rely looks at , her defiant expression unchanging, but a flicker of confusion now lives in her eyes. "How," she asks, the word bitten off, "could that possibly be?"

I lean forward, my hands spread slightly, a gesture of openness.

"Do you not desire a ti when you do not have to et in shadows? When you do not have to hide behind marriages of convenience? When you could walk through the gardens of the capital with the one you love, hand in hand, like any other couple in this kingdom?"

Her composure cracks.

Her eyes widen, and she looks down at her own tightly fisted hands, the knuckles white. A tremor runs through her. She has imagined it. Ofcourse she has. Every night, in the dark, she has probably dread of that sunlit garden.

"I’m sure you know I have no such prejudices," I continue, my voice low and steady.

"I cannot say the sa for the rest of the kingdom. For the nobles who clutch their traditions like lifelines. For the laws that see your love as an aberration."

The room is quiet again, I reach for my cup of tea, the movent deliberate, giving her space to breathe, to think. I take a sip. It is no longer warm, it’s cold and bitter. I place it back on the tray with a soft click.

"What does that," she asks, her voice hoarse, "have to do with having a list? A list that exposes them?"

I et her gaze, my expression one of cool, pragmatic reason.

"How else will we convince the council? With philosophical argunts about love? They will nod and adjourn. We need to make it real. We need to show them that the people this law affects are not faceless strangers in the shadows. They are their own cousins. Their trusted stewards. The daughters of their allies. The poets they admire. People they know, respect, and rely upon. People they would never dream of casting out... until they are forced to see them clearly."

She is silent again, the internal war playing out across her face—loyalty against hope, fear against the desperate need for a future.

"I cannot," she says finally, each word a struggle, "make that decision for everyone. To offer them up... even for this."

"I will provide you with an answer," she continues, her spine straightening with a new, determined resolve, "after I speak with them. After I relay your words, your... proposal. I will ask. But I cannot give them up without their consent. It must be their choice."

A slow, genuine smile touches my lips. It is a better outco than I had hoped for.