Dragon King's Harem Chapter 467. Not a Miracle Worker

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 467. Not a Miracle Worker Callum didn’t stop her. He wanted me to answer too. I kept my voice casual, but delibe

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 467. Not a Miracle Worker

Callum didn’t stop her. He wanted me to answer too.

I kept my voice casual, but deliberate. “Yes. But I’m not a miracle worker. I simply apply knowledge differently than others might.”

“And this knowledge… can it be taught?” she asked, voice softer, but the intent sharpened beneath.

“Maybe,” I said. “If someone’s prepared to understand the cost,” I added, just for challenge.

Her eyes flickered with something—curiosity? Ambition? Respect? A dangerous blend of all three.

“And what was the cost for you?” she asked.

I let a small, dark smile stretch across my lips. “Ask me again when your hands look like mine.”

She inhaled slightly. Not out of fear—but caution.

Callum broke the moment with a faint laugh. “Ah, excellent. This is good. You see, Your Majesty, it’s not only marriage I’m offering. It’s compatibility.”

I glanced toward him now, my patience wearing thin. “You mean opportunity.”

He met my gaze, eyes glittering with cold amusement. “All alliances are opportunity. It’s just a matter of who recognizes them first.”

I took another sip from my goblet, letting the wine sit on my tongue before swallowing.

“You’re not subtle, Callum.”

He smiled wider. “I never claimed to be.”

Thiphania folded her hands again, her voice softer now. “You’ve fought for many, Dragon King. But who fights for you?”

I stared at her for a long moment, letting the silence stretch.

“That,” I said finally, voice low, “is a dangerous question.”

“And those,” she whispered, eyes locked onto mine again, “are the only ones worth asking.”

The tension between us pulsed like a heartbeat—steady, unspoken.

This was no simple marriage offer.

This was a chessboard.

And all of us were already moving pieces.

But I could say this much—Thiphania knew how to play the game.

That question—'Who fights for you?’—if it had come from someone else, from just another ambitious daughter of a noble, maybe it would’ve landed differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have brushed it off.

But coming from her? Callum’s daughter?

The heir of the most dangerous manipulator in the room?

Yeah. That was something else.

‘She’s smart,’ I thought.

And not just politically smart. No, this was precision-level charisma, laced with just enough vulnerability to seem sincere.

She knew how to seduce—not just physically, but strategically. To take the temperature of the room. To offer softness while implying steel. To ask the right questions and turn attention her way.

And yeah…

I had to admit—she knew how to pull favor without ever reaching for it.

She leaned slightly toward me, still relaxed but her voice teasing now. “I heard you took the orc princess as your wife. I guess that’s… politics?”

I let my gaze settle on her, not answering immediately. Her tone was even, almost playful—but her eyes?

Calculating.

I nodded. “It is.”

She didn’t look away. “So you don’t love her.”

That made me pause.

A loaded question.

But the tone didn’t come from jealousy. No. It came from interest. Like she was tallying data. Measuring affection. Testing the depth of my connections to see if I was emotionally careless—or loyal to those I claimed.

‘Wait… is she measuring my harem and our intimacy?’

I narrowed my eyes slightly and replied, “If I said love could bloom after you get to know someone more deeply, would you believe it?”

Her lips parted—she was about to agree, maybe even use it.

That kind of answer was easy to build a bridge from. Something she could twist gently into shared vulnerability, into closeness.

‘Oh wait… she could use it to make us closer even.’

But I didn’t let her.

I held up a finger, my tone calm but firm—cutting off the path before she could walk it.

“…But,” I added smoothly, “it depends on both sides. If one of them says no, then it’ll always be a no.”

She froze for a second. A brief silence. Then her head tilted slightly, eyes never leaving mine.

“And you?” she asked softly. “Did you love her?”

I didn’t blink. Didn’t try to soften it.

“I learn to love her,” I said. “And she learn to love me.”

Callum exhaled softly behind his wine, the faintest hint of amusement in his breath.

“Trust,” he said idly, “is such a rare currency these days.”

“It is,” I muttered, not looking at him. “Which is why it matters more than gold or bloodlines.”

Thiphania nodded slowly. “Then I suppose… it means you believe love can be chosen. Not just fallen into.”

“I believe,” I said, “that love is earned. Not bought. Not arranged. Not declared in a contract.”

She smiled again, faintly. “Even if it starts as a negotiation?”

“Especially then,” I said.

Callum chuckled softly again. “How delightfully romantic. Almost enough to forget we’re discussing marriage from the edge of a throne room still wet with blood.”

My gaze slid toward him. “You picked the timing, not me.”

He raised his glass in mock salute. “And I do admire how well you wear the crown even while it’s still warm.”

I looked back at Thiphania, who was still watching me. Still gathering everything I said like a scholar collecting signs.

“Let me ask you something now,” I said.

She blinked once, then nodded. “Of course.”

“Why you?” I asked plainly. “Why send yourself? You’re powerful. Skilled. But you’re also a target. I could use you. Your father could’ve sent others. So why are you standing here in your own skin, wearing your own name?”

She didn’t answer right away.

Callum, to his credit, stayed silent too.

Thiphania finally said, “Because I didn’t want to marry a name. Or a myth. I wanted to see if the man they whispered about in the dark was real.”

I stared at her for a long moment.

Then gave a slow, tired smile. “And?”

She matched it.

“You’re real,” she said. “And much more dangerous than they think.”

I leaned back slightly. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”