[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining":3,"chapter-qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-72":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1854661,2462,"Chapter 72: Stalker","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-72",72,"\u003Cp>Chapter 72 – Daphne POV\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I have a stalker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A bad one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not the creepy-breathing, hiding-in-your-wardrobe kind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No, this one’s... elegant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...And cute.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And clumsy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Duchess.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Duchess Evelyne Callum.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My not-wife-but-sure-feels-like-it-sometimes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’ve seen her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I think everyone in this castle has seen her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But since she’s—you know—the duchess, no one’s saying a word.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She lurks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On balconies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In garden paths.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind columns.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, I caught her pretending to look at a bush. A very dead bush. For ten full minutes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She thinks she’s subtle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’s not.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s even funnier because she wears those enormous gowns—layers of silk and structure and dignity. She’s basically a mobile tent made of lace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And yet, there she is now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I head toward the stream, basket of cloths in hand, and in the distance—there she is.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blonde hair coiled like spun gold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blue eyes trying desperately to not make eye contact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’s doing the whole leaning-casually-against-a-tree act, as if it’s perfectly natural to be standing on damp moss in designer brocade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s adorable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And so out of character.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’System, is this what she was like in the original narrative?’ I ask mentally, eyebrow twitching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[Of course not.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>’Any explanation? Because I’ve done nothing to the original narrative. You’ve seen that. I’ve been on my best fake noble behavior.’\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>[It’s out of character. I don’t know what’s going on.]\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Great.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>---\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I arrive at the stream with the grace of a woman who’s long given up on pretending to be scandalized.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jane, as always, knows when to disappear. She murmurs something about collecting herbs nearby and vanishes like mist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Good girl.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I undress slowly, folding each layer with practiced ease. The corset peels off like a second skin. My shift follows. Then the underthings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Until I’m bare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Completely.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The breeze is light today, teasing across my skin as I reach for that coarse, fat, rectangular thing they call soap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At least they’ve figured out how to add oils to it now. It no longer smells like disappointment and despair. There’s a touch of lavender. Maybe citrus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I step into the water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s cold, but bearable. Familiar, even.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then—that feeling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The weight of a gaze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I pause.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Huh. Still?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She usually runs away by now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I glance casually toward the trees. Nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But I can feel her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’s getting bold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Feeling mischievous I walk straight into the stream. Naked. Unapologetic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In full view.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stretch my arms again—slowly. Gracefully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I begin to wash. Purposefully slow. Hands gliding down my neck, across my collarbone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Still watching.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>God, what is going on today?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I move to my hair, lathering with care. Letting suds glide down my spine. I make a show of it—nothing obscene, just enough grace to blur the line between sensual and sacred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—my chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I trail my hands there slowly, like I’m in a perfume ad.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>CRACK. STUMBLE. THUD.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Footsteps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rushing. Panicked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She runs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I snicker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s so fun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>***\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Evelyne POV\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bath is warm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Fragrant, even.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rose petals float across the surface, soft and bruised at the edges, while steam curls around the edge of the wooden tub like silk unraveling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But I feel cold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sit motionless in the water, my knees pulled close, arms limp at my sides.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And obsession.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They curl inside me like twin serpents, tightening around my ribs until it’s hard to breathe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t understand it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’ve always understood myself. My purpose. My role.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I knew what I wanted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Power. Safety. Distance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But ever since her...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’ve been unraveling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why am I like this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What is it about Lady Daphne that undoes me?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She says nothing. She keeps to herself. She wears that polite, dull expression like a mask—yet I see through it. I know there’s something else there. Something sharp and warm and dangerous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I see it in the way she moves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the way she looks at me sometimes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What do I want from her?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t know.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I wish I did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s unnatural.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These thoughts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These... feelings.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they don’tfeelnew.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They feel like echoes of something I’ve felt for years.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like a memory I shouldn’t have. A bond I never forged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’ve heard the whispers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tales of nobles and soldiers laying with men instead of women. Of courtesans who favored the embrace of their own sex.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Always spoken in hushed, scandalized tones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Vile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unholy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But here I am.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A woman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sitting in a bath, heart racing over another woman’s body. Her voice. Her smile. Her bare skin glinting in the sun like a myth made real.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Am I no different from those men?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A question I can’t answer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The petals swirl around me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pink and red. So delicate. So perfectly arranged to soften a truth that refuses to be softened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I want her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not in the polite, distant way a duchess is allowed to want things. Not in the manner of courtly favor or strategic alliance. Not even in the shallow desire of a nobleman claiming a mistress.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s not like that.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s worse.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This is wrong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s inappropriate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it doesn’t feel wrong.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s the worst part.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It feels like something buried deep inside me is finally trying to surface, like something old and half-forgotten pressing against the skin of this life I’ve built like a bruise just beneath the surface.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I want to talk to her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I want to ask her—what she meant when she hugged me. If you think about it’sherfault for holding me like that for budding these emotions in me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My maid knocks at the door, muffled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Grace, the water will cool soon. Shall I bring the robe?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t answer right away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My eyes flick to the surface of the water.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The petals have stilled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I rise slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"I’ll dry myself.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Yes, Your Grace.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She leaves. I step out of the bath and wrap the towel around myself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My decision is already made.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tomorrow, I’ll speak to Lady Daphne.Privately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Enough hiding around and tip toeing. Time to put an end to this.\u003C\u002Fp>",1002,"2026-06-09T07:29:29.584Z",1,"novelbin.me","3b44327ea09ae704c01b1abc08bf9829e5a9fcbc5afa72040cdfa3b09f9c4ee4","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-73","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-71",399,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fqt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-cover.jpg"]