Dragon King's Harem Chapter 534. I Spoke with Faith

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 534. I Spoke with Faith

Her hands continued working along my shoulders, then downward across my arms. The sensation grounded me in the present.

“You stayed,” I said suddenly.

She stilled slightly. “Stayed?”

“When I was in hibernation,” I clarified. “Ten years. You had no reason to remain bound to me. No bond. No marriage contract. No promises exchanged.”

She resumed her gentle massage, her movements slower now, more thoughtful.

“I stayed,” she said quietly, “because someone needed to. Because I love you.”

“That’s not a reason. At least for royals like us.”

“It was for me.”

I turned slightly, enough to see her face over my shoulder. Firelight reflected in her eyes, soft and unwavering.

“You were unconscious,” she continued. “Barely breathing. Your body was burning through mana faster than any healer had seen. Many said you won’t wake up again. That you had lost against the curse.”

My jaw tightened.

“I refused to believe it,” she said simply.

“I was a healer,” she corrected. “I spoke with the authority of preservation. And… I spoke with faith.”

“Faith in what?”

“In you,” she said without hesitation.

The words settled deep inside my chest. Heavy. Quiet. Terrifying.

“You didn’t even know me well at that time,” I said.

“I watched you. You stood for me. You stood for Sela. For Eiron. For Almeric. For so many people whose own kings or families abandoned them… or were too powerless to help. You… the Dragon King… still chose to stand for tribes that weren’t even your own,” she replied softly. “I knew enough.”

She shifted slightly, moving beside me now instead of behind. Her hand drifted across my chest, palm resting above my heart.

“You slept for ten years,” she said softly. “But your body never stopped fighting. Every day your mana burned, healed. You protected everyone while unconscious. How could I abandon that?”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

“You never asked anything in return,” I said.

She smiled faintly. “I asked one thing.”

“What?”

“That you wake up.”

Silence filled the room, broken only by the low crackle of the hearth.

I reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The silk softness of it slid between my fingers like water.

“You were my first,” I said quietly.

Her cheeks flushed faintly, though she didn’t look away.

“And the most faithful,” I added. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“You always deserved it,” she said gently.

She hesitated after that. I felt it in the way her fingers stopped tracing patterns across my chest. In the way her breathing shifted, slower, deeper, like she was bracing herself before stepping into something fragile.

“There is… one thing,” she said quietly.

I opened my eyes, turning slightly toward her.

“The only thing that ever stayed in my mind was… when you woke up and decided to take me as your first wife.” Her voice trembled slightly, though she kept her gaze locked on mine. “Was that pity… or did you truly love me?”

The question landed between us like glass dropped onto stone.

I went still.

I didn’t look away. But I didn’t answer either. The hesitation was there. Clear. Heavy. Impossible to hide.

Evelina studied my face carefully. Her expression didn’t break. Didn’t accuse. Didn’t beg.

“I will accept anything,” she said softly. “Even if it hurts.”

My chest tightened.

“I… won’t lie to you,” I said slowly, my voice rougher than I expected. “Back then… it was more pity than love.”

She inhaled sharply, but she didn’t move away. Didn’t flinch. Her fingers remained resting lightly against my ribs.

“…Is it still one sided love then?” she asked after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” I said immediately.

The word came out stronger than I intended. Firmer. Honest.

“I do love you now.”

Her eyes shimmered slightly, but she stayed quiet, letting me continue.

“But in the past…” I exhaled, turning my gaze toward the ceiling, watching the slow pulse of protective glyphs glowing overhead. “Love wasn’t something I believed I could have. The Dark Lord’s curse… it hollowed me out. It didn’t just attack my body. It drained emotions. Warped them. Left everything feeling… distant.”

The memories clawed back easily. Too easily.

“I remember victories feeling empty,” I admitted. “I remember losing soldiers and feeling anger instead of grief. I remember sitting alone after battles and realizing I felt nothing at all. Just… silence inside me.”

Evelina’s hand tightened slightly against my chest.

“That curse stayed with me for the whole of my life,” I continued. “And when I entered hibernation… it finally burned out. My mana stabilized. My mind cleared. But before that… I was walking through life half alive.”

I turned back to her, meeting her eyes fully now.

“So when I woke up… and saw you still there… after ten years…” My throat tightened. “You hadn’t left. You hadn’t chased a safer alliance. You hadn’t abandoned a sleeping king who might never wake again.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t speak.

“I realized something then,” I said quietly. “I knew you were faithful. I knew I needed someone like that beside me. Someone steady. Someone who didn’t see me as a throne or a weapon.”

I swallowed hard.

“And I knew… if I didn’t try to give my feelings back to you… I would lose something irreplaceable.”

Silence stretched between us, filled only by the low crackle of the hearth.

Evelina reached up slowly, brushing her fingers along my jaw, her touch warm and careful.

“You chose me,” she murmured.

“I chose you,” I confirmed. “At first out of need. Out of gratitude. Maybe even guilt.”

“And now?”

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead gently against hers.

“Now… it’s because I want you. Not as duty. Not as obligation. But because you see parts of me no one else does. And you stay anyway.”

Her breath hitched softly.

“You could have walked away,” I added. “You had every right.”

“I never wanted to,” she whispered.

I brushed my thumb along her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, the faint tremble beneath it.

“I know,” I said.

Her eyes closed for a moment as she leaned into my touch, relief and vulnerability softening her expression in a way she rarely allowed anyone else to see.

“Thank you… for telling me the truth,” she murmured.

“I owe you that much,” I replied quietly.

I shook my head then, letting my hand drop back to the bed, exhaustion creeping in again.

“Tomorrow I’m walking Sela and Marissa into their nightmares,” I murmured.

“You’re walking beside them,” she corrected.

“Still hurts the same.”

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against mine. Her breath warmed my lips.

“They trust you,” she whispered.

“I’m afraid of breaking that trust.”

“You won’t,” she said with quiet certainty. “Because you worry about it.”

Her hands slid down my arms, fingers threading with mine, anchoring me there in the dim firelight.

The room felt smaller suddenly. Safer. Like the world outside the palace walls had retreated just far enough for me to breathe.

“You don’t have to dominate every battle,” she murmured. “Sometimes you just have to endure them.”

I closed my eyes again, letting her words settle. And then… sleep took over me.