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Dragon King's Harem Chapter 452. Broken Vow
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 21:17:47 +0000 UTCDragon King's Harem Chapter 452. Broken Vow
The music changed.
That soft, elegant type of elven string harmony that made everything feel a little too perfect. Like the air itself had been combed and perfumed. A dozen crystal instruments sang in harmony, echoing off the frost-carved arches of the ceremonial hall. The crowd hushed.
And then she appeared.
Maria.
The Snow Elf Queen.
My eyes locked onto her the second she stepped through the archway, flanked by priestesses and trailing a ceremonial frost veil that shimmered like moonlight on ice. Her gown was white—of course it was—but not just any white. It was the kind that gleamed, like freshly fallen snow under starlight. It fit her perfectly, high-collared and long-sleeved, modest in cut, but every inch of it screamed royalty. Power. Sacrifice.
She looked like a statue carved from ice and purpose.
All around me, the hall stood.
Delegations rose from their velvet-lined seats in unison. Even Callum Shadowsoul stood—his expression carefully neutral, hands folded politely in front of him like he wasn’t a snake wrapped in charm.
And me? I stood too. Of course I did.
But I didn’t move—not the kind of move that mattered. Not the one she was hoping for.
Because for a half-second… I just watched her.
Maria didn’t look left or right. Didn’t smile. Didn’t pause.
Her face was still. Cold. The kind of cold that only came from someone holding everything in with sheer force of will.
But her eyes… her eyes were scanning.
And when they found me, just for a second—just one second—they flickered.
Hope.
There was hope in them. Just a flicker. A silent plea behind all that frosty elegance.
I felt it.
She was begging me to do something.
To stop this madness.
But I couldn’t move. Not yet.
Not because I didn’t want to—but because it wasn’t time. Not yet. My soldiers were still out there in the walls and halls, moving like ghosts, trying to take out as many of Cedric’s loyalists as they could before everything went to hell.
One wrong move, one second too early, and Cedric would trigger the rune buried in her son’s chest without blinking.
Kaelen may have already been moved and drugged for safety—but Cedric didn’t know that. Not yet. Which meant we still had leverage. Still had time.
The only thing that made me anxious was the fact I couldn’t order Al to accompany them to secure Kaelen. Normally, he’d be the one I trusted most to handle that part—but with the Witch King here, I needed Al close. Watching. Ready to strike if that snake tried anything.
Callum didn’t just attend events. He dissected them.
And if he sensed even a ripple of what was really happening underneath this ceremony, the whole thing could detonate before I gave the word.
So I held her gaze. Gave her the smallest nod. Just enough.
I saw her jaw tighten.
And then she looked away and kept walking.
The priestesses whispered incantations with every step she took, leaving trails of faint glowing symbols on the floor that faded behind her—some blessing about harmony and union and eternal devotion. A beautiful lie written in light.
The aisle was long. Too long.
And at the far end of it, waiting like a blade dressed in silk, stood Cedric.
Duke Cedric.
His smile was perfect. Pleasant. Polished.
If I hadn’t known what I knew, I might’ve thought he actually gave a damn. But I did know. I knew about the rune. I knew about the threats. I knew he wasn’t just marrying her for love—he was winning. Securing power by turning her into a symbol, a contract, a cage.
I clenched my fist under the tablecloth. The chair creaked beneath me as I shifted. Jyne placed her hand on my arm—light, grounding.
Sela was still as stone beside me, but I could feel her mana humming like a coiled bowstring.
We were close.
So damn close.
Maria reached the altar.
The ceremony began.
Elven vows were always long. Ceremonial chants. Exchanges of magic-infused tokens. Oaths not just to each other but to the land, to the tribe, to the balance of the moon and stars. It wasn’t just a wedding—it was a binding. A pact with nature. With history. Designed to be poetic. Eternal. Claustrophobic.
A priestess stepped forward, her voice high and clear, echoing gently through the hall.
All I could think was how many more guards do we need to drop before I can move?
I was counting in my head. Imagining where my men were. How many targets left. How long it would take to clear the last sentry above the north wing balcony. The one I saw glance toward Cedric three times in five minutes.
“By the moons that grace our night, by the stars that mark our fate, we gather to bear witness,” she intoned, holding up a silver circlet wreathed in frost runes. “Two souls, bound not just in love, but in duty. Two hearts, sworn not just to each other, but to the realm.”
Maria didn’t move. Cedric gave the faintest nod.
Another priestess held up a crystal vial. “Do you accept the bond of ice and light? To stand not beside your chosen alone—but beside all who walk this land, as their sovereign and their shield?”
“I do,” Cedric said, voice smooth, effortless.
“I do,” Maria echoed—low, controlled, barely audible.
The high priestess turned, gesturing for them to lift their hands toward the ritual altar.
“Then offer your mana. A thread of will, a line of self. Bind it to the vow. Let it sing.”
Almost there.
Then…
A sound echoed from the side corridor.
Not a weapon. Not magic.
A voice.
Broken.
Wounded.
And loud enough to silence the music in an instant.
“We’re under attack!”
Everyone turned. The guests, the priests, the nobles, even the damn orchestra dropped their bows mid-note.
A figure stumbled into the hall—blood staining his silver uniform.
Captain Vaelis.
The head of the Snow Elf Royal Guard.
He limped forward, clutching his side, face pale, eyes wide with fury and disbelief.
His voice cracked as he pointed toward the upper balconies. “The soldiers—they’ve been slaughtered. Every corridor. Shadows—dragon shadows—they’re inside the palace! Your Majesty, they’re here!”
