Dragon King's Harem Chapter 481. I Want to Help

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 481. I Want to Help

I shook my head, unable to stop the laugh that escaped me. It wasn’t bitter, for once. Just… tired. Soft. Real.

We kept walking a bit more until I finally muttered, “I’ll talk to Maria later. For now… she needs to calm down a bit.”

Jyne nodded, her fingers still looped around mine. “True. That breakfast gave me a headache. Those people really weaponized diplomacy. Like, I almost missed Sela’s complaints.”

I snorted. “Almost?”

“She’s easier to deal with. Complaints first, cries over the tableware later.”

Fair.

The rest of the morning into noon blurred into quiet wandering.

I left Jyne in the inner corridor when she decided to go check on Sela and Kaelen in the garden.

Me?

I went up.

To the balcony.

I needed air. And height. And space.

The moment I stepped into the arched stone alcove that opened to the open sky, I felt that chill slap my cheek. A soft, biting breeze rolled in across the city, sharp as the light reflecting off a thousand shards of broken snow.

I leaned against the rail for a bit. Then sat on it. Legs dangling over ancient marble. No guards. No servants. Just me. And the city.

I could see better from up here. The full breadth of the capital—white rooftops, ice-worn walls, crumbling towers that hadn’t been fixed since yesterday. Snow blew through cracked archways and broken windows like ghosts trying to come home.

A glass of wine would’ve helped. Just a little warmth in the throat. But this place was still half on edge. Servants moved fast, always with wide eyes and trembling fingers. I didn’t ask for anything.

I didn’t want to be another pressure added to the pile.

So I just sat there and watched. Let the wind numb my fingers. Let the silence talk louder than it should.

Most of the snow elf homes were built close together—huddled in against the cold, made of pale stone and enchanted ice. So similar. So uniform. It made me stand out more than usual. Black coat. Black hair. Blue eyes.

A black dragon in a kingdom of winter-blooded ghosts.

No, I didn’t dislike it. But sometimes… it reminded me how far I was from home. And how far I might stay.

Below, I could see patrols moving in slow circuits. Elven scouts in glimmering pale armor. Restoring some order. Checking that nothing burned… or boiled. Most people were back out, moving, sweeping, carrying broken wood, wrapping up lost items in cloth.

But remnants of the chaos still lingered.

A toppled spire near the western gate. Rubble. Scorch marks—maybe from spells. Or explosives. Collapsed buildings, cracked roads, broken lamp posts twisted in awkward directions like they’d melted and refroze in place. Windows still shattered. Smoke stains. Bloodstains.

I spotted one of the front gates. Destroyed. Half-hinged and dented inward. As if someone had rammed it with full force from inside and out.

A tower nearby had fallen. Not a full collapse, but enough to make it unusable. The clean-up would take weeks. Maybe longer.

The nobles in that hall this morning didn’t see this. Or if they did, they didn’t care. To them, this was already behind them. The important part was Cedric was dead. The heir was alive. The queen was standing.

But me? I saw the city.

And I saw the scars.

What happened in the throne room was just one part. One piece of a bigger war. Outside the palace walls, different types of fights took place yesterday—some louder, some quieter, some that left this city bleeding under its frost.

Even here… in this very palace, where we feasted like royalty?

They couldn’t serve us real food last night—not because they didn’t want to, but because they couldn’t trust their own kitchens. Traitors could have poisoned the bread. Tampered with the wine. The chefs could’ve been loyalists to Cedric. Or just scared. Or dead.

That was the reality we stepped into.

Jyne’s voice snapped me out of it.

“The mess is bigger than I thought,” she said softly.

I turned my head. She’d joined me. Quiet as snowfall. Leaned beside me against the rail, her eyes following mine to the city below.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “I thought the same.”

She tilted her head slightly. Her hair caught the breeze and floated. “You’re not just thinking about the clean-up though, are you?”

“Nope.”

“You’re thinking about what’s going to come after it.”

I nodded.

Because once the ice melted, once the ruins were cleared, once the food stopped being carefully taste-tested by terrified staff—then the real test would come.

Would the nobles unite behind Kaelen?

Would the people accept a child on the throne—even if Maria guided him?

Would the other tribes back down… or circle closer?

I didn’t like how it looked.

“I don’t want her to burn for this,” I said finally.

Jyne’s hand found mine again. She didn’t speak right away. But when she did, her voice was quieter.

“She’s stronger than you think.”

“I know,” I said. “But strength only buys you so much time when the wolves are hungry.”

We stood like that for a while. No words. Just the wind and the ruined skyline.

Then she said, “Still gonna talk to her later?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you going to say?”

“…No idea.”

Jyne smiled. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

She leaned against my shoulder, letting her warmth bleed into me. Her hand rested lightly against my arm, grounding me again.

The cold didn’t bother me much. I was used to it by now. But her presence made it easier to ignore the weight of it.

The broken kingdom.

The boy with too much silence in his eyes.

The queen who gave up everything to stand on her feet again.

I stared at it all—at the wreckage and the snow and the lives trying to pick themselves back up. The world down there kept moving. Quiet. Wounded. Brave.

“I want to help,” I said, voice low. Almost lost to the wind.

Jyne, still leaning gently against me, looked up. “You helped,” she said. “You helped enough.”

I shook my head. “No. I mean… the aftermath.”

Jyne didn’t argue. Not this time.

She just stepped back and let go of my hand. Gave me a look that said, Then go.

So I did.

I stepped onto the ledge, let the cold wind rush up my coat, and opened my wings.

The snow scattered as I lifted into the air.

And I flew.