Dragon King's Harem Chapter 572. Reckless
Dragon King's Harem Chapter 572. Reckless
Seraphel’s eyes narrowed.
The air around her shimmered faintly.
“You are poisoned, manipulated, and panicking in front of every guest here,” she said. “Pull them back.”
Durharn coughed, then spat the words out like burning coal. “I will not let criminals hide behind foreign crowns.”
Seraphel’s expression went cold.
“If the Dragon King becomes angry and goes on a rampage here,” she said, each word calm and lethal, “I will turn a blind eye.”
The hall went silent.
She continued, gaze fixed on Durharn.
“You clearly brought this upon yourself.”
Beautiful.
I almost smiled again.
But no.
I stayed silent.
Because silence was useful now.
If I spoke, I became part of the argument.
If I stayed quiet, the room had to look at the absurdity on its own.
A poisoned king ordering sick soldiers to surround a foreign ruler while other royals warned him openly.
Let that image burn.
Let everyone see it.
And then… A faint movement beside me.
Sela.
Tiny.
So subtle even Durharn didn’t notice.
Her hand moved beneath the table, fingers brushing the inner seam of her sleeve.
I didn’t look directly.
I knew what she held.
The crystal.
Not just any crystal.
[Broadcast Crystal: Recorder Type]
One of the pieces we brought for exactly this reason.
A live transmission.
Perfect.
It would capture everything.
Proof.
Proof for the kings and queens in my alliance.
Proof that Durharn was incompetent.
Proof that the Nymph Queen manipulated the throne.
Proof that whatever happened next wasn’t random violence from the Draconis Empire.
It was response.
Documentation mattered.
Kings loved stories only when they controlled them.
So we brought our own storyteller.
Sela’s thumb pressed the activation rune.
For a second, the crystal pulsed silently under the table.
Secret mission successful.
Well.
Half successful.
Because proof was nice, but it wouldn’t save anyone currently breathing poisoned air.
That part?
We had to handle ourselves.
Elowen finally moved.
“My king,” she said softly, directing her voice toward Durharn but letting it carry enough for everyone to hear. “Perhaps we should not rush.”
‘Ah. Here comes the snake.’
Durharn’s face flickered toward her, desperate for support.
Seranaya clutched his arm tighter, eyes wet and pleading.
Elowen turned slightly toward me.
Her expression was sympathetic.
Disgusting performance.
“I think the Dragon King may not know anything,” she said gently.
Interesting angle.
She was pulling him back?
No.
No, not back.
Sideways.
“After all,” she continued, “he is a ruler invited here as an honored guest.”
Her gaze drifted to Sela.
Then Marissa.
“But perhaps… those close to him may have acted without his knowledge.”
The hall shifted again.
Some nobles looked toward my wives.
The guards tightened.
Sela’s expression didn’t move.
Marissa smiled faintly.
A dangerous one.
Elowen’s voice softened even more.
“His wives have histories tied to our peoples. Painful histories. Old wounds.” She lowered her gaze briefly, like she carried grief she absolutely did not deserve to claim. “Maybe they believed this wedding would bury justice forever.”
I felt Evelina go still beside me.
Elowen was good.
She was trying to isolate my wives from me.
Make this a crime of revenge rather than a coup.
She lifted her eyes again.
“Or maybe,” Elowen murmured, “something else has moved behind all of us.”
A second escape path.
Blame the wives if useful.
Blame unknown enemy if needed.
Keep herself clean.
I finally laughed.
Softly.
Just once.
Not loud.
But it cut through the hall harder than shouting would have.
Every gaze turned to me.
I slowly leaned back in my chair, still surrounded by spears, still pale from my fake poisoning, still smiling just enough to be deeply annoying.
“Queen Elowen,” I said calmly. “That was impressive.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
I tilted my head. “Really. Clean work.”
Durharn growled, “You dare—”
I lifted one finger.
He stopped.
Not because I commanded him.
Because the room felt the air change.
My smile thinned. “You accused my wives.”
I looked at Durharn.
Then at Elowen.
“And now you suggest they acted without me.”
My gaze drifted slowly across the guards surrounding us. “Interesting.”
The soldiers shifted uneasily.
I lowered my hand to the table.
Tap.
One finger.
Just once.
The sound was small.
But every dragon instinct in the room heard it like thunder.
“I’ll ask only once,” I said softly. “Are you sure this is the path you want to take?”
Durharn’s face hardened.
The poison had made him pale, but rage gave him color again.
“I thought being the king of dragons made you wise,” he spat.
A few nobles flinched.
“But sadly,” Durharn continued, voice rough with sickness and pride, “I was wrong.”
Seranaya’s hand tightened around his arm.
“My king,” she whispered quickly, eyes wide with perfect fear. “Please, don’t say that. He is the Dragon King.”
I caught it instantly.
So that was the play.
Push Durharn. Let him insult me. Let him threaten me. Let him make the first visible move. Then if I killed him? Tragic, yes, but understandable. The mad poisoned king provoked the Dragon King. The realm protector acted in self-defense. Seranaya became grieving queen. Elowen became sorrowful mother. The dwarven throne fell into their hands without them staining their fingers.
Fine then.
They wanted my hand?
I’d give them my best acting.
I slowly lifted my palm.
Heat gathered above it, thin red-gold embers curling between my fingers like newborn fire.
The guards panicked instantly.
Several spears shifted forward.
Durharn’s eyes widened.
Seranaya’s breath caught.
Elowen watched too carefully.
“You…” I growled, letting my voice crack with anger.
The flame flickered brighter.
Then…
I groaned.
Hard.
The fire died in my palm.
My hand flew to my chest as I staggered sideways, knees nearly buckling.
Evelina caught me immediately, arms wrapping around me with perfect panic. “Your Majesty!”
Her voice shook beautifully.
“What happened?”
I clenched my teeth, forcing my breathing ragged as I gripped her shoulder.
“The poison…” I rasped.
I let my eyes sharpen with fake pain, then lowered my voice just enough for horror to spread.
“It triggered the curse…”