QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)-Chapter 254: Ruined

Chapter 254: Ruined
Chapter 254
Lani
"You’re lucky, entry to this place is really really hard."
The female wolf’s words hang in the air like a secret code, one meant only for those deemed worthy. I glance at her, a faint tension pulling at my chest.
She is just an acquaintance — someone Edith insisted I endure, and honestly, I have. Tolerating her presence as a courtesy to Miss Veyron has been simple enough, but there is something about the way she moves, confident and fluid, that unnerves me now.
She leads me forward, past statues carved with elegant precision, their stone eyes seeming to watch us.
"I didn’t know Felaris had this," I say softly, curiosity prickling my nerves as we approach a hidden door.
She presses a hand to the cool marble, and the wall swings open, revealing a passageway that coils like a secret river into the depths of the academy. I slip inside, the door closing behind me with a faint click that seals the world outside.
"It’s meant to be a secret, safe place in case the academy is attacked, or the kingdom is at war," she explains. Her voice is casual, but the words carry weight.
"They used to meet here, because it was so inconspicuous."
The spiral of stairs beneath us seems endless. Each step echoes softly, the sound mingling with the faint strains of music that grow louder as we descend. My mind races. Safe haven? Secret gatherings? This isn’t the Felaris Academy I thought I knew. And yet, each step feels like a promise, a threshold I can’t retreat from.
When we reach a sturdy door, she halts and grips my arm, sudden seriousness knitting her brow. "You are not to speak of what you see, who you see, anything at all."
I chuckle nervously, unease curling in my stomach.
"I’m serious, Lani."
"I won’t."
"Swear on your family name."
I pause, the weight of the request surprising me. I almost turn back and refuse, but I’m already here might as well.
"I, Lani Moonfox, swear on house Moonfox, I shall not speak a word of what I see."
She nods, opening the door. I step inside.
And it is... ordinary. A salon, polished, warm, with a soft fire flickering in the hearth.
"Marie, you’re here!" A voice — deep, resonant, undeniably masculine — calls. My head snaps toward the sound. The source is a stag shifter by his antlers, a man with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. Yet he wears a dress and corset, and the incongruity halts me, heart thudding.
What is this?
"Don’t say a word, if you won’t be respectful," she whispers, guiding me with a gentle hand to the side.
She moves toward him, conversation flowing in murmurs I am too polite, too nervous, too wide-eyed to follow.
I look for a place to sit, and find a small couch, unoccupied, tucked into the corner. I move toward it, the soft cushions welcoming yet alien beneath me.
My gaze roams the room. People — all shapes, all sizes, all expressions — are here, and yet... different. Subtle differences at first, gestures, glances, touches that tell me nothing should be simple here.
Two male students I recognize lean close, lips meeting in a deliberate kiss. My stomach twists. I look away, heart racing, overwhelmed.
Uncomfortable.
stomach twists. I look away, heart racing, overwhelmed. Across the room, two female students follow suit, their familiarity unguarded, practiced. There is no modesty here. No rules I understand. My mind reels.
What is this place? What is happening?
What’s this behavior? How.....wrong.
Marie sits beside me without ceremony. "How is it?" she asks.
"You asked me, not to say a word if I won’t be respectful," I reply, stiff, still unsure how to navigate this strange world.
"Ha. Okay, Miss Fox Princess..." she teases.
"I told you not to —" I begin, but she cuts me off with a wave of her hand.
"Call you that, yeah yeah I know," she says, sliding closer. Her proximity sends a shiver up my spine.
"Are you not curious?"
I nod slightly. "Yes, what is this place, since when?"
"Oh, this place is a safe haven, for people of certain inclinations. It’s been around a couple of months now."
I blink. "What? How?"
"Obviously there is a backer, a really really good one, so the school looks away, because they’d rather not get that person’s bad side." She smiles knowingly.
The pieces fall into place. There is only one person with that much influence — the duchess. Her lover, a
female
Longear.
"But I was wondering whether you were curious as to why I brought you here." Marie’s voice lowers, intimate, teasing.
I hesitate. I do not respond.
"I have reason to believe your gaze strays towards the fairer sex."
"Impossible!" I exclaim, heat creeping to my cheeks. Several students glance our way, though their curiosity is casual, detached.
"Oh but it’s not. Miss Veyron seems to think that way too, which is why she introduced us," she explains.
"That’s absurd! You must know whom my lover is." I snap, almost offended by the implication.
"Yes, I’m aware. It’s his highness," she says lightly, dismissive, as if it’s something minor being the prince’s lover.
"Then, stop this....
misunderstanding
you have," I demand, but she only smiles, gentle yet probing.
"Please, most people in this room have lovers. That’s something irrelevant," she says, her hand brushing my arm.
I remain standing, wrestling with confusion and indignation.
"I do not understand why you and Miss Edith have this
misunderstanding
, but I assure you it is false."
Her fingers clasp mine, warm, grounding. "My lady, please, take a seat." Reluctantly, I sink back onto the couch.
"Surely there must be something she and I see that you are unable to," she continues, lifting a few strands of my hair, letting them slip between her fingers. Her touch is soft, deliberate.
"You could prove us wrong, you know," she murmurs.
"How?" I ask, though part of me knows the answer, knows the danger of curiosity.
She leans closer, her hands brushing the back of my neck. "W-what are you doing?" I stammer, breath catching.
"I must say, fox princess, your personality is not the best, but you surely do live up to your expectations. You are beautiful," she whispers.
My heart hammers. She leans in, lips brushing mine. I freeze.
"I know not what you do with his highness, but a kiss usually involves participation from both parties," she murmurs, teasing, testing.
I glare, half in outrage, half in something I cannot name. She kisses me again. This time, I do not resist.
*
Everything I knew is in flames.
Mating — what I had always believed was a duty, a chore, a ceremony for my partner’s satisfaction — feels foreign now, twisted by the reality of this new, forbidden pleasure.
Every night, I return.
Every night, I find myself pressed against different female students, exploring sensations and desires I never imagined could exist
I should feel shame. Morality, upbringing, loyalty — all of it screams at me to stop. Yet, I cannot. The pull is addictive, intoxicating.
The softness of another woman, her warmth, the unspoken consent of our encounters — it is more profound than any duty I have known. And I am ruined, caught between who I thought I was and who I am becoming.