[{"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-74":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},1854663,2462,"Chapter 74: Breathe","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-74",74,"\u003Cp>Chapter 74 – Evelyne POV\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I read the morning report with one brow arched.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It seems the duke was... quite productive yesterday.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Three removals, two official investigations launched, and a sealed message sent to the Crown for audit support. Not bad. Not that I feel anything about it, of course.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I fold the parchment neatly and place it back on my desk.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Let him have his victories.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stand. My dressing gown is still tied loosely around my nightgown. The early light hasn’t yet spilled fully into the estate, the sky barely streaked in hints of rose and silver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t know why my feet are moving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I tell myself it’s nothing. That I just want to speak with her. That it’s a matter of estate etiquette—a formal check-in, perhaps, to ensure harmony among the ladies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But I’m using the lesser-known corridors.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The servants’ paths. The side hallways. The ones that don’t pass through the central staircase or draw unnecessary attention.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because I’m still in my nightclothes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because I don’t want to be seen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And that, in itself, should be enough of a warning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What am I doing?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why am I like this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Something inside my chest screams at me to turn around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To go back to bed. To remember who I am.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But my feet don’t stop.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside her door, I find her maid.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She bows quickly, eyes respectfully lowered.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Your Grace.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I nod.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Open the door.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She hesitates, but only for a second, then obeys.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The door creaks open.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I step inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It smells...clean.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soft. Subtly floral. There’s a kind of calm in this room I never feel in my own. The morning light has only just begun to filter through the gauzy curtains, casting long, quiet shadows across the rug.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There she is.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Daphne.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Asleep, curled into the blankets, hair messy, face soft in a way she never allows when she’s awake. Her guard is down. Entirely unguarded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Peaceful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now that I’m here... what was I planning to say?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I walk silently to the edge of the bed and lower myself to sit. The mattress shifts, barely, under my weight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was always going to be like this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course she’s asleep. It’s just past dawn. The maids haven’t even brought in the morning tea yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What was I hoping for? A dramatic confrontation? An accusation?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Or something else?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I stare at her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My hands feel cold.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My chest, hot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Why are you up so early?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A sleepy voice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not alarmed. Not surprised.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just tired. Familiar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before I can respond, her hand snakes out from the blanket and grabs my wrist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Come here.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She pulls.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I don’t resist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, I’m in her bed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Arms wrap around my waist, tugging me in. My cheek brushes against her shoulder, and her breath fans across my collarbone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She holds me like I’m hers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t move.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t breathe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I feel like I’ve just been struck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My heart is a traitor, slamming against my ribs. My entire body is frozen, stiff with confusion, panic, and something worse—longing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her grip tightens, just slightly, as if she can sense the hesitation in my muscles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She murmurs something—soft and low—against my skin. I can’t make it out, but the tone is so... intimate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Too intimate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Let me go,\" I whisper, my voice barely above breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A protest, in theory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But even I can hear the betrayal in it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t sound like a woman who wants to leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sound like someone begging not to be left behind.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She shifts behind me, pulling me in tighter, her breath warm at my nape.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"A couple more minutes,\" she says, voice muffled against my neck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Can I not have them with my wife?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She kisses me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not on the lips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not even properly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just a soft, reverent press of lips against the side of my neck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But it’s enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My heart drops.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Straight into my stomach. Into the floor. Into the very core of the earth itself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wife.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That word rings in my head like a church bell. Shattering. Echoing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wife?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wife?!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The warmth of her body. The calm in her tone. The way she said it—like she’s said it a thousand times before. Like it belongs to me. Like I belong to her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sit frozen, eyes wide, breathing shallow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her hand shifts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It trails along my waist, up toward my chest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slowly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Deliberately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’ve never felt so overwhelmed in my entire life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The fabric between us might as well not exist. Her palm presses over my chest like it belongs there. Like I belong to her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And the worst part?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I feel heat surge through my entire body.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This is not right. This is not what I came here for.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My breath catches. Panic takes over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I lurch forward in a blind rush to get away, to escape the heat crawling down my spine and the thoughts screaming at me to stay.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But I move too fast.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My foot catches the edge of the rug.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I fall—hard—with a loud thud as my shoulder hits the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For a moment, there’s silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And then—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Duchess?!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her voice is sharp with surprise.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I look up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’s standing over the bed, blinking sleep from her eyes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’s wearing a large white shirt—definitely male in cut—and it hangs loosely over her thighs, baring far too much skin and still managing to look effortlessly divine.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her dark hair is a wild halo around her face, and there’s a smear of pillow-crease across her cheek.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She looks... human. Confused. Beautiful. Beautiful???\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I want to die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I try to stand, scrambling to recover even a shred of dignity, but my ankle twists and I stumble again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’s beside me in a blink, kneeling down, one arm reaching to steady me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Careful,\" she says gently, fingers curling around my elbow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I flinch at the contact.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But I don’t pull away.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her hand stays firm on my arm, steadying me with a confidence I can’t understand. Like she’s done it before. Like she’s held me together more times than I know.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She gently guides me back to the edge of the bed, lowering me down like I’m made of glass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And I let her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’m just... sitting there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Completely dumbfounded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She kneels in front of me, barefoot, nightshirt brushing the tops of her knees, and starts checking me for injuries with the same seriousness a physician might have shown.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She brushes back the fabric at my sleeve, examines my elbow for bruises, gently presses around my ankle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her fingers graze skin, and I flinch again—but not from pain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From how careful she is.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From how familiar this feels.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From the quiet way she doesn’t even ask permission—just knows what to do.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Meanwhile, I just sit there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like a doll.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like a fool.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My mind is blank, and somehow, too full.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I don’t stop her. I don’t tell her to step back or call for a maid or remember who I’m supposed to be.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Because right now... I can’t remember how to breathe.\u003C\u002Fp>",1185,"2026-06-09T07:29:29.584Z",1,"novelbin.me","037d073f7dc72cad7417aa12b01318d63b0aff185f0811f4ca580613cbc30eb1","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-75","qt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-chapter-73",399,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fqt-i-hijacked-a-harem-system-and-now-i-m-ruining-cover.jpg"]