The Mind-Reading Mate Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me novel Chapter 106

Chapter 106: Suicidal Intruder (II)

"No need to make a scene." Primrose finally sat back down. "But you can ask Salem to come here."

"I can’t leave you alone, Your Majesty," Callen said with a frown. He was clearly growing more uneasy, his queen looked far too calm for someone who had just learned someone wanted to poison her food.

"Then ask one of the nearby soldiers instead," Primrose replied. "If they ask why, just say I wanted to eat in the kitchen and needed someone to confirm the food was still safe to eat."

Callen hesitated but finally nodded. "In that case, I’ll tie her up before I go find someone."

Primrose shook her head gently. "You don’t need to. She won’t do anything to me."

"Your Majesty, you can’t trust someone you just met!" Callen argued. "Especially after she just admitted to poisoning the palace supplies!"

Primrose waved her hand. "Don’t worry about it. She didn’t do it."

When Callen opened his mouth to argue further, Primrose cut him off again. "Like I said before, I can read people the moment I meet them. Do you not trust my judgment?"

Callen closed his mouth and finally responded after a brief pause. "I believe in you, Your Majesty."

Even so, he didn’t break eye contact with Primrose as he stepped out of the kitchen. He walked backward and left the door wide open.

"Let’s see ... what should I eat first?" Primrose turned back to the food on the table, completely ignoring the presence of the young woman sitting nearby.

The young woman frowned. "I just told you I poisoned the food, and you still want to eat it? Your Majesty, do you have a death wish?"

Such a bold girl.

"If the food on this table was poisoned, you wouldn’t have eaten it," Primrose said calmly, pointing to a half-eaten meat pie on the table. "Did it taste good?"

The young woman blinked in confusion, then lowered her gaze. "I didn’t eat that."

Primrose shrugged. "Then it must’ve been a mouse," she murmured. "But there are no mice in the palace kitchen."

From the minds of the maids who often brought food from the kitchen, Primrose had learned that Edmund had become extremely strict about kitchen cleanliness after she arrived at the palace.

He had ordered the cooks to make sure that not a single rodent or dirty animal could contaminate the ingredients. If even one was found, he’d demand the entire kitchen be relocated somewhere cleaner.

He probably gave the kitchen staff endless headaches, but because of that, Primrose could now eat without worrying about rats contaminating her food.

"What’s your name?" Primrose asked, finally deciding to start with the clear broth soup. A sense of relief washed over her the moment warm food entered her stomach.

"Hazelle," the young woman whispered. "Just Hazelle."

She didn’t have a last name?

Well, that didn’t matter. Primrose was fairly sure someone had given her that name just based on her eye color alone.

"It’s not poisoned," Primrose said. She explained that Hazelle had already eaten the food. If it had been poisoned, Hazelle would’ve collapsed long before her.

"But still ..." Callen sighed, long and tired. He was starting to realize that maybe becoming the queen’s personal guard wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought, especially if the queen didn’t seem to know the meaning of caution. "Your Majesty, you really shouldn’t eat something unless you’re sure it’s safe."

Primrose rolled her eyes and snatched the spoon back from him. "I’m starving. Besides, if I do get poisoned, Salem can handle it."

"Please don’t eat any more, Your Majesty!" Callen quickly pushed the table away from her, just far enough so she couldn’t reach. "If His Majesty finds out I let his wife eat suspicious food in the middle of the night, he’s going to set me on fire himself!"

Primrose let out a dramatic sigh, clearly annoyed, but didn’t argue. She could tell Callen was being serious and a little too stubborn for her to win this one.

She eventually sat there in silence, waiting for Salem to come.

After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Salem finally arrived at the kitchen, looking visibly annoyed, as if he’d been dragged out of bed in the middle of the best sleep of his life.

His coat was half-buttoned, his hair a mess, and he still had ink stains on his fingers, probably from scribbling down another bizarre formula before being summoned.

He didn’t even try to hide his frustration.

"Your Majesty," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you ever sleep through the night like a normal person?"

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