Dragon King's Harem Chapter 286. Are You A Masochist?

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 286. Are You A Masochist?

"I'm not going to deny that," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret. "As kings, they hold great responsibility for their actions. So when they are driven by greed and ambition. Sometimes, their crimes’ consequences are far-reaching and affect innocent people as well."

Due to my own statement, I took a moment to reflect on the weight of my role as a leader. It wasn't an easy burden to bear, knowing that my decisions could impact the lives of so many, both within and outside of my tribe.

Glasha's uneasiness was evident as she listened to our conversation. I could see the conflict in her eyes, torn between understanding my position and empathizing with the victims of the war.

Evelina, always the caring and diplomatic one, quickly picked up on Glasha's discomfort. She turned to me with a gentle expression, her voice soft and reassuring. "Erm… I think we should stop talking about this and talk about something else," she suggested, trying to change the topic to ease the tension in the room.

I smiled gratefully at Evelina, appreciating her ability to sense the emotions in the room and diffuse any potential conflicts. "You're right, Evelina," I said, grateful for her intervention. "Let's shift the conversation to something lighter."

Glasha flicked her gaze at me, her eyes guarded and defiant. "If you think about my feelings, you don't need to worry," she replied coldly, her tone tinged with a hint of bitterness. "I have prepared myself for this."

Her reply caught me off guard, and I turned to her with a furrowed brow. "Prepared yourself?" I repeated, trying to understand the meaning behind her words. It was clear that Glasha was putting up a brave front, but her walls were beginning to crack, revealing the vulnerability she was trying so hard to conceal.

As the others exchanged concerned glances, I struggled to find the right words to comfort her. "Are you a maso---" I started to ask, but quickly caught myself before using a ‘Masochist’ term that might not be familiar in this world. "Are you intentionally pushing others away?" I asked, trying to get to the root of her reluctance to accept help and support.

Glasha's expression softened slightly, but the walls remained intact. "I don't need anyone's pity or sympathy," she replied, her voice tinged with pride. "I can handle this on my own."

I sighed, realizing that Glasha was not yet ready to open up and let us in. "You don't need to be strong all the time," I said, my tone gentle but firm. "Acting strong when you're hurting inside will get you nowhere. It only makes others misunderstand you."

She had grown up in a world where strength and defiance were valued, where showing vulnerability was seen as a weakness. Her father's harsh and antagonistic demeanor had shaped her into the fierce warrior she was today, but it had also left deep scars on her heart.

I understood that Glasha's resistance to opening up wasn't just about us or our marriage. It ran much deeper than that. She had spent her whole life opposing her father, pushing back against his domineering ways. And now, with me as her husband, she might have felt like history was repeating itself, like she was once again faced with a man she needed to resist.

But I was determined to show Glasha that I was different from her father. I wanted to be a partner, a husband, someone she could lean on and trust. I didn't want to be another source of contention in her life.

Glasha frowned at me, her eyes filled with defiance and a hint of sadness. "Pardon me for my personality, Your Majesty. I'm a warrior. Even though you have taken my weapon and I have become your wife, deep inside, I am still a warrior," she explained with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Her words struck a chord with me. I could see the pride and strength that radiated from her, even in her moments of vulnerability. Glasha was a force to be reckoned with, and I respected that about her. But I also knew that beneath that tough exterior, there was a heart that needed to be healed.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, contemplating her words. "Stubborn is not a warrior’s attitude, Glasha. It's the attitude of someone who refuses to accept help and pushes away those who care about them," I said, trying to get through to her.

Glasha's eyes narrowed, and she looked away, her jaw clenched. "I don't need anyone's help," she muttered stubbornly.

"But you do," I insisted gently. "We all need help sometimes. No one can face their battles alone. Even the strongest warriors have moments of weakness. That doesn't make them any less fierce or brave.”

Glasha's brows furrowed as she pressed her lips together, her eyes still holding a hint of defiance. I could tell that my words had struck a nerve, and for a moment, the tension in the room was palpable. But I didn't want to ruin the celebratory atmosphere, so I quickly tried to diffuse the situation.

"Just forget it," I said with a sigh, waving my hand dismissively. "This is supposed to be a celebration, remember? I'm not interested in arguing right now."

Evelina chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "He's right, Glasha. Let's put our differences aside for now and enjoy the moment," she said with a warm smile.

Glasha hesitated for a moment, and then slowly nodded. "Fine," she muttered, still looking a bit annoyed. But she seemed to relax slightly, and I could see her shoulders sag a little as she let go of some of the tension.

The rest of the meal continued in a more light-hearted manner, with my other wives engaging in friendly banter and sharing stories about their activities while I was away at war. Glasha remained mostly quiet, but I noticed that she was more relaxed than before.