QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)-Chapter 259: Choose

Chapter 259

Lani

I’m in my room when the door slams open so hard the hinges rattle.

Lira storms in, her face flushed, hair slightly mussed, and her night robe thrown on hastily. She looks like someone who didn’t even finish thinking before acting.

"Is what His Highness is saying true?" she demands, gripping my shoulders like she can squeeze the truth out of me.

I let out a long breath and take a step back, gently prying her hands off me.

"Yes," I say simply.

Her lips part. "That can’t be."

I guide her toward the bed and sit her down, taking her hands in mine.

"Lira," I begin softly, trying to ease the sting of what’s to come.

"I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first."

She looks at me with confusion and hurt. "I thought... you were doing well with him. That everything was fine."

"Lira..." I trail off, searching for a way to say it that won’t break her more than it has to.

Finally, I rip the bandage off. "I don’t like His Highness."

Her eyes widen. "But you do—"

"No," I cut in firmly. "No, I don’t, Lira."

The silence that follows is sharp.

"I never have," I admit, my voice low but steady.

Her confusion is written all over her face. She’s never seen me like this , never heard me say something that could shatter everything we’ve always just assumed between us.

"I liked him because you liked him," I continue. "Because you’ve always liked him. And I thought... if we both liked him, then we’d be together forever. That it would make sense."

"Lani..." she whispers, as if saying my name might rewind time.

"But I know now that’s wrong," I say. "Don’t I deserve the chance to find someone who makes me happy? The way he makes you happy?"

Her throat bobs as she swallows, struggling to find words. "I’m sorry. I didn’t know."

"I know. I didn’t tell you."

"Why didn’t you, Lani?" she asks softly, almost like she’s asking why I betrayed her.

"I don’t know. Maybe I was scared. Maybe I didn’t want to disappoint you. Or maybe... I didn’t want to lose you," I whisper.

Lira’s eyes glisten. She looks like a storm that isn’t sure if it wants to rage or rain.

"I see," she says finally.

And just like that, silence fills the room—not the comfortable kind, but the heavy, fragile kind that can break with the wrong breath.

***

Felix

I don’t understand why Lira is sulking over my breakup with her twin when neither of us—the actual people involved—seem to care that much.

I shake my head. Love is strange.

My steps carry me toward Miss Edith’s accommodations almost automatically. It’s been a while since I last saw her. I push open the door without knocking.

She’s pouring water into a glass. And she’s not alone.

Duchess Nyxclaw is seated in the room like a cat in a sunbeam—small, dangerous, and entirely in control of the space.

Two sets of eyes turn to me.

"Well, if it isn’t the little lion," the duchess purrs, raising her glass.

"Lady Nyxclaw," I answer stiffly.

She arches a brow, amused. "Wow. I can’t remember the last time anyone called me lady."

She finishes her drink, then hands the empty glass to Edith. And Edith—my proud, fiery Edith—takes it like a servant.

My jaw tightens. I’ve never seen her like that before.

"Well," the duchess says, rising smoothly, "since you have company, I’ll take my leave. Remember what we talked about, little panther."

"Of course, Your Grace," Edith replies with a bow that’s too deep for comfort.

The duchess glides past me like smoke, small but carrying an aura that makes the room feel too small for her presence. She doesn’t even spare me a second glance as she slips out.

The door clicks shut.

"Your Highness," Edith greets, smiling faintly.

I walk in, sit where the duchess was seated, and she promptly climbs into my lap. Our tails tangle like they always do,effortlessly, familiarly.

"It was a surprise seeing her here," I say, hands settling around her waist.

She chuckles softly. "Did you forget? Veryron is a vassal state to Nyxclaw."

Right. I did forget that.

"I’ve also never seen you so... respectful," I tease.

She tilts her head, lips curling. "It’s only natural to show respect to the woman who ripped my ex-fiancé’s heart out of his chest."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"Don’t worry," she says easily, "I’m not bothered by it. It’s tradition in Nyxclaw."

"Ripping out hearts?" I ask incredulously.

She laughs. "No. Ensuring the heir is the strongest panther. The weak die. It’s just how it is."

I finally understand why Grandfather always says Nyxclaw must be left alone. Seeing as to how they are still practicing such barbaric traditions.

"I see," I murmur.

She leans in. "It’s just different. But it’s our way."

"Hm."

I shift slightly. "Why was she here?"

"She wanted me to pass on a message to my father," she answers.

"Speaking of fathers," I say casually, "he and Duke Snowfrost were something else during the vacation."

She giggles lightly.

"I apologize. My father can be a bit... enthusiastic," she says.

"Right. He was acting like his daughter is already crown princess," I say offhandedly.

The change is instant.

Edith freezes, then slips off my lap.

"What’s wrong?" I ask, confused.

"You should leave," she says sharply.

"What? No. Talk to me." I reach for her, but she steps away.

"I don’t like the tone you used," she says, folding her arms. "Is it so unbelievable that I could be crown princess?"

"You know that’s not what I meant," I start.

"Then what did you mean?" she demands.

"I meant... you’re not crown princess yet, so your father’s behavior seemed—odd," I explain.

She laughs—a short, cold sound. "Leave," she repeats.

"Edith," I say, catching her hand.

She rips it away, and that stings more than I expect.

"I’ve come to understand something," she says.

"Understand what?" I demand.

"That you’re not serious about us, are you?" she whispers.

My stomach twists. "What? That’s not—"

"The duchess was right. I shouldn’t have—"

"What’s wrong with you?" I snap, grabbing her shoulders.

She scoffs bitterly. "What’s wrong with me is that you don’t take us seriously. You mock my father, my efforts. And I’ve been investing everything into this relationship because I thought it was going somewhere."

"Marriage?" I repeat, startled.

"Yes, marriage!" she fires back. "I’m twenty-six, Felix. I don’t have time for childish games. I already wasted years on a man who ended up dead. These past months I’ve given you everything—my loyalty, my time, my support—and you..." Her voice cracks. "...you’ve never even considered me as a real future."

I stare at her, stunned.

"Have you ever," she whispers, "seriously thought about us?"

"I have," I say, and for the first time I realize I’m not sure how convincing that sounds.

She exhales shakily. "I can’t do this, Your Highness."

My heart lurches. "No. No, Edith, let’s think about this. Don’t make any rash decisions."

She crosses her arms, steadying herself. "I suppose... I was being sensitive. With everything the duchess said. Let’s revisit this later."

"What did she say?" I ask.

She looks away. "I’ve received a marriage proposal from a foreign prince."

The words hang heavy between us.

"She told me to consider it. Because you’re not serious. And your tone just now... proved her right."

"No," I say quickly, stepping forward. But she steps back.

"I’ll see you later, Your Highness," she says, eyes downcast.

Edith’s steps are sharp against the wooden floor after I leave. She doesn’t slam the door — she never does. But the quiet click behind me is somehow louder than a shout.

I storm down the corridor, heat burning behind my ribs, my jaw tight.It wasn’t a fight. It was worse. A line being drawn.

She thinks I’m not serious about us.

I rake a hand through my hair, the weight of it all pressing down. I’ve been careless. Playing at love like it’s a game because I’m the prince, and people always stay. They orbit me because they have to. Because of who I am.

But Edith isn’t like the others. She’s never needed me. If anything, I’ve needed her more than I realized.

I clench my fists. No. If I go back now, I’ll only make it worse. She’s not like the girls who melt when I ask them to stay. She’ll tell me to leave again. And this time, it will hurt worse.

"Your Highness?"

I turn at the sound of a voice. A maid, startled, carrying a tray of folded letters. She bows so quickly I almost don’t catch the movement.

"Shall I deliver your correspondence in the morning?" she asks timidly.

"Yes," I mutter. But then something on the tray catches my eye. An envelope—heavy parchment, sealed with wax. Nyxclaw’s crest.

"Give me that one," I say. She hands it over with trembling fingers and scurries away.

The seal cracks too easily beneath my thumb. Inside is a single sheet. A message from the duchess herself.

Little lion,

A throne is not built on soft promises and half-measures. Choose wisely before someone else chooses for you.

— Nyxclaw