I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

She faked a gasp, placing a hand over her chest. "Yours, is it?" she repeated, amused. "Since when does a queen belong to her grandson?"

He leaned in, his breath brushing her lips as he whispered, "Since last night—when she was moaning it into my ear."

The Queen's cheeks flushed deeper, but her smirk never wavered. "You really are insufferable."

Turning away, she reached for the towel and began wrapping it around her damp hair. Her playful smirk faded and after a brief silence, she spoke—her tone serious. "Can I ask you something?"

Julian, still standing shirtless near the window, turned his head with a half-smile. "Sure,"

The Queen met his gaze, her fingers tightening slightly on the towel. "About what you said before… the thing with Regina. Were you serious?"

Julian's eyes lit up with amusement, and he gave a low chuckle. "Yes," he said without hesitation. "I was completely serious."

She blinked, her brow furrowing. Silence settled between them for couple of seconds before Julian went on. "Not just her, but grandmother, And my sisters too."

The Queen's eyes widened in shock. "What?" she gasped, staring at him like she wasn't sure if he was joking or insane. "Gregoria as well?"

Julian tilted his head, that familiar cocky smirk returning. "Your old love rival?" he said with a soft laugh. "Yes, even Gregoria. She's mine now too."

She stared at him, stunned. "You're unbelievable."

Julian simply grinned. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

She lowered her head, her voice soft, laced with guilt. "I don't think I have the right to say what's wrong or right after what we did… but what about your family? Won't they crumble if they find out?"

Julian didn't answer right away. He turned his gaze back toward the capital, his hair fluttering in the breeze. "They sure will," he admitted plainly. "But this is the path I've chosen."

He paused, then spoke again. "I've always loved Regina more than a son should love his mother. Same with Grandmother… with Eleanor… and Eva. Maybe it started with lust, sure. Hormones. Power. But as I kept walking this road, I realized—it wasn't just about that. I was too invested. Too drawn to the women closest to me. It stopped being a game the moment I couldn't see them as just family anymore… but as women I wanted for myself."

He glanced back at the Queen. "I know what I'm doing is madness to everyone else. But to me.... I've never felt more certain."

The Queen could see it clearly—the fire in Julian's eyes. That raw, unwavering conviction. There was no hesitation, no shame, only the fierce determination that became clearer with every word he spoke.

"I might not have walked this path before," he said, "but I don't know why… fate just kept paving the way for me. I gained power. I gained influence. And maybe it makes me sound like some crazy dictator, but I took what I wanted. Because no one was ever going to hand it to me. And this... this was the only way."

His gaze locked onto her, piercing, intimate.

"I'm possessive of what I claim. That includes you, Grandma. The moment you gave yourself to me, fully, without hesitation—you became mine. Not just in body, but in spirit. And I won't share you. I won't let you go."

The Queen's breath caught. A strange mixture of emotions twisted in her chest—fear, wonder, desire. Her eyes lingered on his face, reading the truth behind his words, feeling the weight of the claim he had made.

Her voice came low, barely above a whisper. "Julian…"

She reached out without realizing, brushing her fingers along his cheek. "You speak like a tyrant, yes… but also like a man who loves too deeply for his own good." She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his chest.

Julian wrapped his arms around the Queen, pulling her close. In an instant, the familiar stone walls of the castle faded into something new—something vast and bright, almost unreal.

The sky above was endless, the landscape too dreamy to be real and as far as ones eyes could manage to see, everything was majestic and beautiful.

The Queen pulled back slightly, overwhelmed by the sudden shift. "Where... where are we?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Julian smiled with pride. "My world," he answered calmly. "Everything here... it's mine. I created this, shaped it."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and called, "Harem Manifestation,"

A figure began to form before them, her shape slowly materializing out of thin air. As the figure solidified, the Queen's heart skipped a beat. There, standing before them, was Regina—her daughter, whom she hadn't seen in years.

The silence between them lingered, but it wasn't heavy anymore. It was weary. Tired. Full of things left unsaid for far too long.

Regina stood tall, her gaze steadily meeting her mother's. The Queen—no longer the cold figure of rage and shame, looked back at her daughter not with bitterness, but with something softer.

"Regina," she said finally. "You've grown."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "You didn't expect me to?" The words weren't harsh, but weren't warm either.

The Queen smiled. "No. I knew you would. You were always stronger than me." She exhaled slowly, as if the words had been buried deep in her chest for years. "I just couldn't bear to see it."

Regina's guard cracked, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. This wasn't the mother she remembered. The one who spat venom when Alden's name was mentioned. The one who banished her from the palace like she was nothing but a stain on royal pride.

"You were angry," Regina said. "At everything. At me."

"Yes," the Queen nodded. "At Augustus. At Gregoria. At the way my life turned out. I hated her for taking him. I hated him for choosing her. And I hated you for choosing his son."

The Queen paused. Her eyes, so often hard and cold, watered faintly, not with tears, but with regret.