February 12, 2026

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 530. Unification Ceremony

“Huh,” I muttered, reaching for the scroll. “Either they’re not planning to kill me…”

“Or,” Eir offered, “they want everyone to see it happen live.”

I snorted. “Cheerful as ever.”

I unrolled the scroll with careful fingers, letting the thick paper crackle as it spread across my desk.

The invitation was formal. Ornate. Written in high dwarvish with golden ink and that unmistakable tone of pompous court excess.

You are hereby invited to the Grand Unification Ceremony between His Majesty King Durharn Stoneblood and Her Highness Princess Seranaya of the Nymph Tribe.

Yeah. There it was. The polished lie.

Unification.

The kind of word that sounded peaceful if you didn’t know someone had to die for it.

The details followed, location, time, guest list, feast offerings. All very official.

I leaned back in my chair and whistled. “They’re going big. Full ceremonial suite. Public display. They even listed the gift protocol. Which means they’re expecting foreign dignitaries.”

Eir nodded. “Your name is at the top of the list. Bolded.”

“Of course it is,” I muttered. “Because what’s a cursed wedding without a fire-breathing wildcard at the reception?”

Eir cleared his throat. “You’re attending, I assume?”

I glanced at him. “You think I’ve been drowning in paperwork for a week just to not walk into that snake pit wearing full armor and a smile?”

Eir exhaled. “Then I’ll send confirmation and begin assembling the escort detail. Shall I also prepare your wardrobe?”

“No gold cape,” I said flatly.

“But it matches your—”

“No gold cape, Eir. I don’t want to look like I’m there to bless the marriage.”

He sighed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

I rolled up the scroll again and leaned forward. “We need to be sharp for this one. Sela and Marissa will need extra eyes. Have Al run recon again. I want full scans of the guest list, seating charts, magical field placements, if someone’s smuggling a cursed spoon into that palace, I want to know before it stirs the soup.”

Eir bowed. “Consider it done.”

“And tell the kitchen,” I added. “No mushrooms this week. If I see one more fungus-based pastry during paperwork lunch, I’m declaring war on agriculture. I read enough reports about fungus this week.”

Eir hesitated. “That might be a slight overreaction, Your Majesty.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Also, tell Sela and Marissa to get ready. We’ll leave next week.”

Eir nodded, turning halfway to the door, but paused. “Anything more, Your Majesty?”

I didn’t look up right away. Just ran a hand down my face, fingers dragging past my jaw, through my hair.

Finally, I exhaled and waved vaguely. “Nothing… just make sure Sela’s preparing what I asked for.”

Eir turned back, one brow raised. “You mean the, uh… the rune-linked crystals?”

I nodded. “Yes. The ones that can livestream.”

“Live… stream?” he echoed, blinking.

I paused. The term slipped out naturally.

Right. Right. The terminology.

They didn’t understand that concept.

“Not stream like water,” I muttered. “I mean… the ones that can communicate in real time. With images. Sound. So I can see and hear what’s happening somewhere else without being there physically.”

He looked like he was still trying to translate it through about three layers of magical theory, political etiquette, and battle command. “…You mean— like remote scrying?”

“Yes, Eir,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Remote scrying, but with less ritual setup and more reliability. I want eyes and ears in the event. Not after. I want to be able to call an emergency move if needed.”

Eir nodded quickly. “Understood. I’ll tell Lady Sela.”

“Good. Just make sure it works.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Then he bowed, quick, sharp, and finally left.

Scroll in hand.

Mission clear.

Mind probably overloaded.

And me?

I slumped back in my chair.

The leather creaked under my weight, the flames of the hearth crackling in the corner like they were mocking me for not having already torched the rest of the office.

I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling like it had the answers.

It didn’t.

I exhaled slowly. Long. Controlled.

“I hope everything will work…” I muttered to myself.

And I meant it. Because the more I thought about it, the more twisted this wedding became.

I’d already read some of the guest names. Some were powerful. Monarchs of the old factions. Commanders from neutral territories. Even a few wild cards I didn’t expect to come out of their caves unless the realm itself was shaking.

Which raised the question…

Was the Nymph Queen still planning to execute the poison plan?

Or had she changed course?

She had everyone coming. Everyone important. Everyone visible.

Was this about love?

No. That was laughable.

Was it about alliance?

Maybe.

But what if this wasn’t just about the dwarves?

What if this was her stage?

What if this entire thing, this wedding, this over the top spectacle, was a power move to show the realm that she could not only sway the dwarven crown, but invite the other rulers in, sit them down, feed them drinks…

…and prove that none of us could touch her?

Not with words. Not with armies. Not even with the truth.

Hostages.

Symbolic submission.

A throne built not from blood but consent.

“Or worse…” I muttered, eyes narrowing at the last flicker of firelight, “she plans to humiliate us.”

A public ceremony. A love-blind king. All eyes on her. All kings in one room. If she plays it right, even a hint of fear from us, even a single misstep, could be twisted to show the whole realm that we, the old powers, the protectors of the balance, couldn’t stop her.

I smirked.

My claws drummed against the desk.

“I can’t wait…” I whispered. “To play this next chess round.”

Because if she wanted to make this a game?

Good.

I’d already moved my pawns.