Dragon King's Harem Chapter 412. Collecting Women Like Trophies

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 412. Collecting Women Like Trophies

Marissa didn’t miss a beat. “Either. Both. Take your pick.” She shifted to sit closer, her knee brushing against my thigh. The movement was casual, but the intent wasn’t lost on me. “You don’t think I’m just here to carry your child, right? Or maybe you think I’m just the daughter of an old friend you felt obligated to save?”

The bluntness of her words hit me like a bucket of ice water. My chuckle came out awkward, almost forced. “Marissa…”

She smiled at me, but there was a sharpness behind it, a challenge. Her gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Marissa wasn’t like the others. She didn’t go for soft words or comforting reassurances. She cut straight to the bone, and damn if it didn’t leave me raw every time.

“I’m serious,” she said, her voice dipping lower, softer, but not losing its edge. “What am I to you, Argod?”

I leaned back against the headboard, rubbing the back of my neck. “You’re Marissa,” I said simply. “A friend, a wife. Maybe… The only one who can call me out on my bullshit and not make me want to set something on fire.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she let out a soft laugh. “High praise coming from you.”

“It’s the truth.” I shrugged. “You’re also the one who refuses to let me wallow, which, if I’m being honest, is really inconvenient right now.”

She smirked, leaning in just enough that I could feel the coolness of her breath against my cheek. “And here I thought you liked me for my charm.”

“Oh, your charm’s definitely part of it,” I admitted, a faint grin tugging at my lips. “But if you’re looking for compliments, you’ll have to wait until I’m not dead tired.”

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, the usual sharpness in her eyes dulled. “You can rest, you know. You don’t have to carry the world’s responsibility every second of the day.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the world,” I muttered, letting my head fall back against the headboard. “It’s not exactly the forgiving type.”

Marissa reached out, her fingers brushing against my arm. The gesture was light, almost hesitant, but it carried this weird sense of comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. For someone as cool and collected as Marissa, it was practically an act of affection.

“You’re really tense, you know,” she said, her voice soft but teasing. “Want me to help with that?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Help how?”

Her lips curved into a faint smirk. “A massage. What else?”

I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “A massage, huh? You offering to add ‘royal masseuse’ to your resume?”

“Why not?” she said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “I’ve got skilled hands. Unless, of course, Your Majesty is too proud to accept my help?”

I rolled my eyes at the ‘Your Majesty’ bit but couldn’t help grinning. “Alright, sure.”

Marissa patted her lap, signaling me to lie down. “Come on, get comfortable.”

I hesitated for a second, but honestly, I was too tired to argue. So, I shifted, laying my head in her lap and closing my eyes. The fabric of her dress was cool against my skin, and her fingers started working at the knots in my shoulders almost immediately. Her touch was firm but careful, her fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles that made me sigh in relief.

“This isn’t bad,” I muttered. “You’ve done this before?”

“Maybe,” she replied, her tone playful. “Why? Worried I’ll break you?”

I snorted. “Hardly. Evelina’s done this before, though. She’s got magic hands—literally.”

“Oh?” Marissa said, her fingers pausing for a beat before continuing. “And here I thought I was special.”

“Don’t get jealous,” I said, smirking a little. “You’ve got your own charm.”

She laughed softly, the sound low and melodic. “So… Why’d you change? You’re not exactly known for being approachable, Argod. But after your hibernation… you’re different. Warmer.”

I opened my eyes, staring up at her. The way she was looking down at me—curious but not judgmental—made me pause. She wasn’t fishing for compliments or trying to pry for the sake of it. She genuinely wanted to know.

“Let’s just say…” I started, exhaling slowly, “It’s because I managed to lift the Dark Lord’s curse.”

“I see…” she whispered.

The silence stretched between us for a moment, not awkward but heavy. Marissa’s fingers resumed their work, her touch gentler this time.

“I’m glad,” she said softly. “That you’re… you again. It suits you.”

I chuckled, closing my eyes again. “Suits me, huh? Guess the harem thinks so too.”

Her fingers faltered, just for a second, and I opened one eye to glance at her. “What? Too much?”

Marissa rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “You and your harem. It’s like you’re collecting women like trophies.”

“That’s not what it is,” I said, though I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my lips. “They’re not just… there. They’re part of this, part of me. And they’re all here by choice.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Even Glasha?”

I sighed, shifting slightly, trying to get comfortable again. “Glasha’s… complicated. You know that. It’s more like… a political marriage than a normal one.”

Marissa’s fingers paused for a second before resuming their gentle rhythm. “I can see that,” she said thoughtfully. “But I also see something else.”

I cracked one eye open to glance up at her. “Oh? And what’s that?”

She tilted her head slightly, her silvery-blue hair catching the dim light of the room. “You and Glasha. You’re both struggling. Well, she is, for sure—I’ve been watching her for a while now. But you… I only just saw it today.”

I blinked, her words hitting me harder than I expected. “Struggling? Me?” I let out a short laugh, though it came out more bitter than amused. “You’re imagining things.”

“No, I’m not.” Marissa’s voice was calm, steady, the kind of tone that made it hard to argue. “You’re good at hiding it, Argod. You always have been. But today, after you came out of her room…” She shook her head. “It was written all over your face.”