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

Chapter 421:

Caspian

I never thought they would betray me.

After all those months sailing together—after the storms, the battles, the trust we built—they do this to me?

The kingdom must be in chaos.

I wanted to be back at sea. But not like this.

I look at the chains binding my arms. They are loose but heavy—meant to restrain, not harm. The metal is cold against my wrists. The links clink softly when I move.

In front of me, Nancy brings me a cup of water.

"Thirsty, Your Highness?"

"My thirst is the least of my worries."

She does not even look guilty.

Her face is calm and composed.

"It is common sense to never trust a pirate," she says.

"A pirate, huh?" I say.

I look at the cup of water. Then at the chains.

"Water. I would rather you take these off me."

She does not respond.

"It is not as if I can escape the boat," I say.

She looks at me for a while before speaking.

"I do not have the authority to make that decision," she says.

She leaves.

A few minutes later, the chains are off me—under orders from Marina. Or should I call her the new captain of the Devil’s ship now?

I stretch my wrists. The skin is red where the metal pressed against it, but the weight is gone.I stand and walk.

The door is not locked from where I was being kept, in the storage hold.

I climb the stairs.

I step onto the deck.

The sea is vast. The sky is blue. The wind is warm.

I lean against the railing.

I am oddly calm.

I do not know why they have kidnapped me.But what I feel instead of fear is a sigh of relief.

To be away from everything. The crown. The court. The endless obligations that weigh on my shoulders like chains heavier than any metal.

I look around. The Bunny is similar and different. There are new faces—young sailors I do not recognize. Some old faces are gone, retired or dead or simply elsewhere.

Everyone on the ship ignores me.

They carry out their duties. They do not look at me. They do not speak to me.

"Different from the last time you were here, is it not?"

A voice.

I turn.

Naia is standing beside me. Her dark hair is loose. Her beads click softly as she moves. Her painted lips curve into a knowing smile.

"It is."

"Well, our old captain retired." She leans against the railing beside me. "And while the little pirate might not be the Devil, she is doing a good job."

"She always wanted to be captain of her own ship," I say, thinking of Marina.

"Indeed." Naia nods. "Dreams are coming true." She looks at me. "And what of you, Your Highness? The monster of the seas is no more. I hear your kingdom is attaining stability."

"Of course."

"But you do not sound particularly happy."

"Do I not?"

"Hmmmnn." She takes my hands without warning.

I jump in surprise.

She studies my palms.

"It says here," she murmurs, "that you shall experience a great love."

I look at my palms, trying to see what she is seeing.

"An all-encompassing, consuming, dark kind of love," she says.

"A dark kind of love?"

"Not all forms of affection are pleasant, little prince."

I frown. "When is love ever not pleasant?"

She gives me a cryptic smile and sashays away, leaving me puzzled.

She is extremely beautiful, but a tad bit odd.

I mean, she must be odd if she fancied Smith. That man is as old as the king—my father. He has gray hair, wrinkles, and the kind of stoic silence that comes from decades of military service.

I shake my head and turn back to the sea.

The wind is warm. The water is blue. The horizon stretches endlessly before me, and for the first time in years, I feel like I can breathe.

I do not know where they are taking me. I do not know what awaits me at the end of this journey. But standing here, on the deck of The Bunny, with the salt spray on my face and the weight of the crown temporarily lifted from my shoulders—

I am free.

*

is a beautiful island I am led onto. So beautiful it hardly feels like a place on earth. The sand is white beneath my boots, soft as powder, warm from the sun. The water is so clear I can see the bottom—sandy and smooth, scattered with shells that catch the light like scattered jewels.

I walk.

Ahead of me, the island rises into a gentle slope. Trees crowd the edges, their leaves rustling in the warm breeze.

I notice the purple bird in the distance.

It circles once. Twice. Three times.

Then it makes eye contact with me.

I try not to show it, but I take a sharp intake of air.

Once close to the house, it—like the rest of this island—feels surreal. I have never seen such design nor materials before. The walls are smooth, painted a pale color I cannot name. The roof is dark and angled. The windows are so clear they look like there is nothing there at all.

Maybe it is a style belonging to the eastern lands?

I stand outside with Marina.

She does not look at me.

I do not look at her.

The silence stretches.

In a few moments, the Devil walks out.

She is wearing a simple shirt, loose trousers, and bare feet. A child is strapped to her chest—a small thing with dark hair and bright eyes, clutching a fistful of her collar.

She makes eye contact with me.

I feel like a bird brought for slaughter.

"Thank you," she says. "You can go now."

Marina nods. She turns. She walks away.

I almost ask her to stop and stay with me, to not leave me alone here. But I do not say anything.

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