July 22, 2026

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 573. All Stupid Kings Deserve to Fall

The reaction was instant.

Not loud at first.

It moved like a chill under silk.

A few nobles stiffened. One fairy attendant covered her mouth. Several dwarven guards took half a step back before remembering they were supposed to be surrounding me. Even the musicians, who had already stopped playing, somehow looked like they wanted to stop breathing too just in case breathing made the situation worse.

Evelina’s arms tightened around me.

Her face went pale.

Half acting, half real worry, because even though she knew the plan, hearing me say those words in public still hit something deep.

“That curse again…,” she said, voice trembling.

I nodded slowly, pretending the movement hurt.

My hand dug harder into my chest, fingers curling into my coat. I forced my breathing to hitch, uneven and rough, like something under my ribs was waking up and scraping claws against bone.

A faint shadow crawled over my fingers.

Just enough.

But enough for everyone who knew about my bloodline to feel their survival instincts kick the door open.

Because yeah.

They knew.

The Dark Lord curse wasn’t some private family embarrassment hidden in a dusty royal archive. It was history. A nightmare tied to the Dragon King’s lineage. The kind of curse that made old rulers lower their voices and young nobles pretend they weren’t scared because fear wrinkled expensive clothes.

Murmurs spread across the hall.

“The curse…”

“If it awakens here…”

“Gods…”

Yes.

Exactly.

Be afraid.

Not of me.

Of what happens when stupid kings poke dragons during a poison banquet.

And then I saw it.

Queen Elowen glanced at Seranaya.

Seranaya glanced back.

Then both of them almost smiled.

I laid the bait down like fresh meat.

And they took it with teeth.

Elowen’s eyes brightened with calculation. Seranaya’s trembling bride expression softened for half a heartbeat before she buried it beneath concern again.

They believed it.

Or at least they believed enough.

Dragon King weakened. Curse triggered. Foreign delegations poisoned. Dwarven king angry.

Perfect murder scene.

Evelina rose slightly, still supporting me with one arm. “Let me heal you,” she said quickly.

I grabbed her wrist, making the movement look desperate. “No.”

Her eyes widened.

“Heal yourself first.”

The hall heard that too.

I needed them to hear.

“You should be able to do it, right?” I asked, voice strained.

Evelina froze. Then she lowered her gaze. Shook her head.

“I tried,” she whispered.

A ripple moved through the guests.

Evelina, healer of light, unable to neutralize poison?

Terrifying headline.

“I tried to neutralize it,” she continued, voice cracking just enough to sound ashamed. “But it keeps failing. This is a new type of poison. I… I can’t do anything.”

Then she lifted her eyes, wet and determined.

“But I can soothe your curse,” she said. “I can do that. Please, Your Majesty. I can do it.”

I turned my head toward Marissa.

Time for the ugly part.

“Marissa.”

She looked up immediately, already understanding.

“Do you know how to cure this?” I asked.

She shook her head from side to side, slowly, like the answer cost her something.

“I… I…”

Her fingers curled into her dress. “My knowledge is limited, Your Majesty…”

I forced my face colder.

And I hated it.

“I took you as my wife for this.”

The words cut through the hall.

Marissa flinched.

Perfectly.

I wanted to bite my own tongue off.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I… I’m sorry.”

The dwarven guards watched, uncertain now. Nobles exchanged looks. Even some nymph attendants looked satisfied.

Let them think my house was cracking.

Seranaya took one graceful step forward, clutching Durharn’s hand like a frightened bride who still had kindness in her heart.

“You okay, Dragon King?” she asked softly. “Should I check on you?”

I glared at her.

Fiercely.

That part came very naturally.

My stare landed on her like dragonfire compressed into a look, and for the first time, her lashes fluttered with something almost real.

Fear? Maybe.

Durharn immediately pulled her closer. “Don’t worry about him,” he growled. “Worry about me.”

The jealous poisoned groom.

“If he falls,” Durharn spat, “he deserves it.”

The hall froze again.

Even Elowen looked like she was enjoying this now.

She tilted her head slightly, voice smooth as moss over a knife. “Do you think he deserves to fall, my king?”

Durharn’s jaw tightened. His eyes stayed on me. “All stupid kings deserve to fall.”

Oh. Wow.

That sentence was going to look amazing in the crystal.

Sela’s hand under the table didn’t move, but I knew the crystal caught everything.

Seranaya gasped softly. “My king…” She gripped his hands tighter, pressing herself closer. “Please don’t say that.”

Her voice trembled like she was begging from a place of love.

“Even though he has slandered me… even though he accused me of poisoning you… please don’t say that.”

I almost cringed hard enough to break character.

This entire marriage was a theater production written by poison and daddy issues.

“I’m fine, my love,” Seranaya whispered. “Please don’t let him enrage you.”

Then she lowered her voice.

Just loud enough for Durharn’s poisoned mind.

“Don’t think any criminal thoughts. He is still this world’s protector.”

The knife hidden in prayer.

‘Don’t think about killing him.’

Which meant think about killing him.

‘He is this world’s protector.’

Which meant he can be replaced.

I stayed silent.

I had to admire the precision.

She didn’t order him.

She wrapped treason in concern and fed it straight into his ear.

Durharn’s breathing grew heavier. His glare locked onto me. “No,” he muttered.

Seranaya looked up at him. “My king?”

Durharn straightened, poisoned body shaking but pride holding him upright. “He isn’t worthy.”

A murmur went through the hall.

Seraphel’s eyes narrowed sharply.

The Fairy Queen’s face turned grave.

Durharn lifted his hand. “This world needs a new protector.”

Ah… The idiot said it.

The hall became so quiet I could hear someone’s cup trembling against a saucer.

Durharn’s finger pointed at me again.

“Guards!”

The dwarven soldiers stiffened.

“All of you!”

His voice cracked, raw with rage and poison.

“Kill the Dragon King!”