Dragon King's Harem Chapter 426. I Just Want to Understand How You Think

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 426. I Just Want to Understand How You Think

Al exhaled through his nose. “I see… That’s why you’ve been preparing all this.” His sharp eyes studied me as if piecing together a puzzle. “Also… does she know about your plan?”

I shook my head. “I told her I’d help her, but I didn’t explain the details. She can’t contact me with her dream spell anymore, anyway. Not since I left the colder territories.”

Al ran a hand through his hair, his expression unreadable. “Just make sure she doesn’t misunderstand us. The last thing we need is the queen thinking we’re invading.”

I scoffed. “She was desperate enough to come to me, Al. A queen asking another king for help? That’s not a strategy. That’s desperation.”

Al let out a low whistle. “Yeah, when you put it like that… she must be at the end of her rope.”

“She is,” I confirmed. “And now, we’re her best shot at getting her son back.”

Al studied me for a moment longer before nodding. “Then we don’t have a choice. We do this your way.”

I exhaled, some of the tension in my chest easing. “Good.”

He stretched his arms above his head before cracking his knuckles. “We leave at sunrise?”

I nodded. “Be ready.”

Al flashed me a grin. “I always am.”

As he left, I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling. The pieces were set. Everything was moving forward.

Tomorrow, we'd be leaving. Tomorrow, we’d step into enemy territory. And by the time we left, the Snow Elf Queen’s son would be back where he belonged.

No matter what it took.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly, my fingers rubbing at my temple. Everything pressed against me, heavy but familiar. The Trojan Horse plan would be in motion, and if everything went according to plan, the Snow Elf Queen’s son would be back in her arms soon enough.

‘I hope everything will go well…’ I thought, though experience told me that was wishful thinking. Nothing ever went perfectly, but as long as we controlled enough of the chaos, we’d come out on top.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I said with a huff, already betting on who it would be. Eir? Guillotine? The chancellor? Maybe the duke?

Honestly, my bet was on the chancellor. He’d been on my case ever since I started leaving the palace more frequently. Between dealing with other tribal kings and handling my own internal affairs, I was rarely at my desk for long.

And then there was the whole situation with the Minotaur Tribe.

I still hadn’t visited them personally to demand compensation after the war. They had sent me a letter, though—an apology, a formal offer of payment, and their willingness to enter my alliance. The new Minotaur King was handling their internal mess after the previous king died at my hands. Politics there had turned ugly, which wasn’t surprising. The rumors that the new king had let the late king die to secure his own position were spreading like wildfire. It would be a while before things stabilized.

But it wasn’t the chancellor.

It wasn’t Guillotine, Eir, or even the duke.

It was Glasha.

I blinked, caught completely off guard. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, her stance stiff as ever. Her deep green skin practically glowed, her long, thick braids framing her sharp features. Those dark eyes of hers bore into me with their usual intensity—an intensity that, most of the time, was filled with irritation.

“Glasha,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t expect you.”

She scoffed, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Clearly.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk as I watched her. Glasha wasn’t the type to just drop by for a friendly chat. Hell, she barely spoke to me unless it was necessary. Our marriage had been purely political—a way to ensure peace between our people after the war. She wasn’t my wife in the same way Jyne or Sela were. She was more like… a political prisoner with a crown. She made that very clear every time we interacted.

So what the hell was she doing here?

“Something on your mind?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

Glasha’s jaw tightened slightly before she let out a breath. “I heard about your little plan.”

I tilted my head. “Oh? Which one?”

She shot me a dry look. “Don’t play dumb. The Snow Elf Queen’s wedding.”

I smirked. “Ah. That one.”

She walked closer, stopping just before my desk. “You’re planning to infiltrate a royal wedding. You’re taking a drake as a gift, disguising an attack as diplomacy, and planning a rescue operation under everyone’s noses.” She paused, crossing her arms again. “Have I got that right?”

I grinned. “More or less.”

Glasha exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

I chuckled. “That’s nothing new.”

Glasha didn’t laugh. She just stared at me, her arms still crossed, her expression unreadable. That was typical for her. She always carried herself like she was in the middle of a battle, like she was bracing for the next attack. Even now, standing in my office, she looked like she was trying to gauge whether I was a threat.

She was silent for a while before she finally spoke again. “Why did you do that?”

I leaned back in my chair, tilting my head. “Do what?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “This plan of yours. The infiltration. The rescue. Why?”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. “Guess.”

Her expression didn’t change. “I’m not interested in a guessing game,” she said flatly. “I’m not here to judge you. I just want to understand how you think.”

I studied her for a moment, tapping my fingers against the armrest of my chair. Glasha wasn’t someone who wasted words. If she asked something, she actually wanted to know. That was rare. Most people asked questions expecting to hear a certain answer. Not her.

“I do it because I can,” I said simply.

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Elaborate.”

I let out a slow breath, my eyes flicking to the window for a moment before returning to hers. “Because no one else will. Because people in power like to sit on their thrones, pretending they’re untouchable, while the weak suffer under their decisions. And because the second they think they have control over everything, someone like me comes along to remind them that they don’t.”

Glasha watched me carefully, her face unreadable. “So you do it to disrupt them?”

I smirked. “I do it to remind them they’re not gods.”

“So are you,” she reminded me.