QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)
Chapter 196: The princess is a furry

Chapter 196: The princess is a furry

196 — Daphne POV

"Okay, okay—here’s what we’re going to do." I say, getting the attention of all three.

Princess, dragon, prince—three sets of very intense stares. I resist the urge to rub my temples.

"Princess—you are moving out of this castle. I can’t be sure if what you’re feeling is true love right now... or simply the result of having no other options."

She starts to open her mouth, ready to protest.

I shut it down with a single cold glare.

She closes her mouth with a pout.

"And you, Prince Gallant—" I turn to him, "—you cannot force a union without her consent."

He straightens, sparkling indignantly, but wisely keeps quiet.

"So—" I continue, voice firm, tone final, "—both Prince Gallant and Drake, you will court the princess for a period of one hundred days. At the end of this period, Princess Floribella will choose freely—whomever she wishes—and that person shall be recognized as her true love."

There.

Done.

Simple.

Of course, nothing is ever simple.

Because after that pronouncement... I had to physically drag a wailing, kicking, sobbing princess away from her dragon boyfriend. Through a portal. While the prince trailed behind me trying to look smug and noble.

We emerged in a quaint little forest clearing.

A cottage—freshly conjured—appeared with a flick of my wand. Cozy, comfortable, with everything she might need.

I placed the princess inside (still sniffling dramatically), summoned a shimmering barrier around the entire property, and cast the necessary spells:

One hundred days.

She cannot leave.

Neither of them can enter.

And—thank everything—I don’t have to speak any of those ridiculous rhymes or long incantations to cast it. Just intent and a flick of the wand.

Small mercies.

Finally, with the situation (temporarily) under control—I step back through the portal and return to my ridiculous rainbow-puke office.

I settle into the giant pink teacup chair with a sigh.

Peace.

*

"So you’re saying... you want me to turn him back into the beast?" I ask, folding my hands on the desk, eyeing the couple across from me.

They sit side by side in the oversized heart-shaped chairs across my absurd rainbow-puke office.

"...Yes," the lady says softly. The man beside her—a very handsome blond man in princely attire—just lowers his gaze and remains silent.

I glance between them.

Then back at my paperwork.

"Right. So... you two broke the curse with true love’s first kiss. Everyone cheered, there was a ball, fireworks, the whole thing. And yet—here you are. Two years into happily-ever-after. In my office."

They exchange glances. Embarrassed.

I sigh inwardly. "Look. I’m here to help. No judgment. No shame. Just tell me what’s going on."

The princess takes a deep breath, twiddling her fingers. "I love him. I love this form. I’m in love with who he is—"

"But," I say, already sensing it.

She blushes furiously. The prince grimaces.

"Our... intimate life," she says delicately, "...is... lacking."

"Nonexistent," the prince mutters.

"And when we do manage," the princess rushes on, "...I just... I can’t... I’m not... It’s not the same."

I blink once.

Okay. Well. This is getting interesting.

"And what exactly," I ask delicately, "...does this have to do with turning you back into a beast?"

More hesitation.

He struggles. "We... you know..."

Oh.

Ohhhhh.

I pull out the enchanted fairytale logbook, flipping to the correct Chapter.

The "Beast" form: seven feet tall, broad build, sharp claws, enhanced stamina, very long tongue, ahem... notable appendages.

I glance up at the very human six-foot prince—lean, handsome, utterly normal—and then at his slender, petite wife.

Well.

No wonder.

"You were... accustomed to certain... logistics," I say lightly.

She nods quickly, face red. "Exactly."

"And now," I say dryly, "you miss the beast dick."

She makes a helpless little noise and buries her face in her hands. The prince groans.

I close the book with a sigh. "I get it."

They both look up, hope in their eyes.

"Well. I get it," I say.

"Really, I do. But... I can’t permanently undo a happily-ever-after curse-breaking. It would cause a bureaucratic nightmare in the Narrative Department. The paperwork alone would take a century."

The princess looks crushed. Her husband looks quietly relieved.

"But," I add, sipping my tea, "there is another option."

They both perk up.

I reach into my desk drawer, rummage past candy hearts and stress balls shaped like dwarves, and pull out a gilded business card.

Madame Bibi — Specialist in Temporary Glamours & Enchantments. Time-Limited Transformations. Discretion Assured.

I pass it across the desk. "Madame Bibi. One of the top fairies in the business. She’ll arrange for... part-time transformations. Beast mode for a few hours nightly. You’ll still look good at court in the daytime, but come evening... well, you’ll both be happy."

The princess seizes the card like it’s a holy relic. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

The prince rises with her, a little color back in his face. He looks genuinely grateful—not thrilled about going full beast again, but clearly ready to do whatever it takes to please his wife.

"Best of luck," I tell them as they practically skip out of my office.

As the door closes behind them, I sigh, sip my tea, and stare out at the absurd rainbow-striped wallpaper.

Honestly.

There’s a princess that bangs a dragon, I’m sure another one with a furry kink really shouldn’t be surprising.

*

I’m in my office, enjoying a quiet moment with my tea—jasmine-vanilla this time. Lightly sweetened.

I swear, I’m getting addicted to this stuff. Who knew rainbow tea in a pink teacup could grow on a person?

Finally, a day with no screaming princes, love-struck dragons, or beast-dick restoration requests. Peace.

A little shimmer of magic catches my eye. A floating envelope—glittery, of course—materializes above my desk and drops gently onto the stack of reports I’m ignoring.

I raise a brow. Wipe a fleck of glitter off my sleeve.

The envelope reads:

To Madame Resolutionist — With Eternal Gratitude.

Ah.

I open it. Inside is a folded card with an elegant, if slightly over-excited, scrawl:

> "Thank you for helping us rediscover the spark in our marriage! Madame Bibi worked wonders. We’re closer than ever. Please accept this small token of our thanks!"

There’s also... a gift card to some upscale spa. One of those ’enchanted relaxation’ places that promises to "release tension from body and soul."

Huh.

I sip my tea.

Well.

Miss Furry Kink Herself and her husband are happy. That’s what counts. Who am I to judge?