QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)-Chapter 75: Excuse

Chapter 75 – Daphne POV

’System!!!’ I mentally scream like my sanity depends on it—because, honestly, it does.

The world halts.

Color bleeds out of the walls.

Time stops.

Everything turns black and white, frozen like a paused movie.

And right on cue, that familiar blue orb materializes in front of me, bobbing with soft light like it’s just here for moral support instead of soul maintenance.

I don’t waste time.

I jab a finger toward my bed, where Duchess Evelyne Callum—yes, the duchess—is seated beside where I just was lying, hair tousled, robe slightly askew, and looking like she doesn’t realize she just gave me an emotional crisis.

"This!"

[Host.] The orb’s voice is as mechanical and flat as ever.

"Look at this! How the hell am I supposed to stay away from the plot when this is happening? Do you have a solution? Suggestions? A defibrillator?!" I hiss, pacing with frantic energy and jabbing toward the still duchess again like I caught her stealing royal jewels.

I hate what I’m feeling.

Like I’ve betrayed Jiang Yuxi.

With a cheap knockoff.

With blonde hair and blue eyes and a face that keeps haunting me.

It wasn’t intentional. I know that.

But it still feels like cheating.

Like treason. Betrayal.

[Host, I cannot interfere with characters unless they go extremely out of line.]

"You don’t think crawling into my bed and me groping her in sleep is out of line?"

[No. The karmatic threads around her are unchanged. The world does not register it as deviant. So I can’t act.]

"Ha."

I run my fingers through my hair. Frustration pulses under my skin.

This is the part where I would go to a gym. Punch a bag. Run until my lungs burn. Something physical. But no. I’m a noble lady. I can’t even walk briskly without raising eyebrows.

"So what now?"

[...]

Silence.

"System."

Still nothing.

I snatch the floating orb from the air and squeeze it like a stress ball, ignoring the startled spark it gives off and its indignant robotic screeches.

I twist. I knead. I mash.

[HOST THIS IS ABUSE—]

The world abruptly resumes.

Coward.

Color rushes back into the room. The frozen scene snaps to life.

Duchess Callum is blinking up at me, still seated on the bed, disoriented but poised.

I school my face into a polite mask.

"I don’t see any injuries," I murmur. "But you should see a physician, just in case."

She doesn’t answer right away.

Just stares.

And then nods.

***

Evelyne POV

"I should get going," I murmur, standing too quickly.

The light outside is much brighter now. Morning has fully arrived while I was... spiraling.

I leave the room as calmly as I can, but my nerves are shattered.

What am I doing?

What am I becoming?

*

Later, walking through the garden paths, I find her again.

Lady Daphne.

Her hair is in a single loose braid over one shoulder, dress simple, movements light. Our maids trail behind us at a respectful distance.

She doesn’t speak. Neither do I.

Until I do.

"I apologize for this morning. It was improper."

The words feel brittle in my mouth, formal armor to protect whatever soft, irrational thing is clawing its way up my throat.

"That’s okay, Your Grace. I should apologize too... I mistook you for someone. Someone very dear to me."

She doesn’t look at me when she says it. Just straight ahead.

That same faraway tone again. Like she’s speaking from another life.

"I heard you say... ’your wife.’"

I didn’t mean to bring it up.

I planned not to.

But my mouth is a traitor.

She pauses mid-step.

Then continues walking.

"You were wed?" I ask, quieter this time.

No answer.

Only the soft sound of her shoes against the gravel.

"You know that’s not possible, Your Grace," she says finally, her voice calm—but laced with something broken.

"But in another world, another lifetime... I hoped me and her would be wed. Actually—" she exhales softly, "I believe we were."

The ache in her voice guts me.

It carves through me like glass under skin.

I open my mouth, then close it again.

"I take it... coming to House Callum must have been difficult."

She doesn’t answer.

I glance at her—and wish I hadn’t.

Her expression is full of so much grief it doesn’t belong in someone so young.

It’s haunting.

And suddenly, my jealousy—sharp and toxic—wilts into something small and childish.

"Pardon me, but why are you here, Your Grace?" she asks after a long, still stretch of silence.

Her voice is polite, even gentle—but there’s an edge behind it. Not sharp enough to cut, but certainly enough to make me feel exposed.

I keep my gaze forward. Composed.

"Taking a walk," I say lightly.

She doesn’t let it go.

"You know that’s not what I’m trying to say."

Of course it’s not.

I glance at the sky, as if I might find answers there. But there are none. Only clouds and consequences.

I don’t know why I came.

I don’t know why I keep seeking her out.

But I can’t very well say ’Because I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s driving me insane.’

So I come up with something safer. Something... acceptable.

"I wished for us to get along."

She hums softly.

"Why?"

A simple word. But it feels like a knife aimed at my mask. novelbuddy.cσ๓

Still, I respond.

"Nothing too special," I say, reaching for the rehearsed version of the truth.

"We seem to be in the same position, you and I. And, honestly, the other ladies are so interested in household politics and schemes... you seem like-minded. You don’t appear interested in that."

There. Neat. Logical. No danger.

I almost feel proud.

A very good excuse.

But she gives me a look—a sideways glance with tired, perceptive eyes—and for a moment, I wonder if she’s about to call my bluff.

Because maybe I’m not the only one who knows how to wear a mask.

It feels like she sees straight through mine.