Her words slipped through the door and straight into Edmund’s heart like a dagger.
[How could she not be afraid of me?]
[I look like I just slaughtered a whole army—wait, I did kill a lot of people tonight.]
[Shit! What if she wants to divorce me again after finding out I’ve killed people?]
[No! No! If she divorces me, the human kingdom will think it’s her fault and might punish her.]
[Damn it! I should’ve learned how to kill without turning into a walking puddle of blood.]
Primrose slowly stepped back from the door, not because she wanted to run away, but because she was trying to make sense of what she just heard.
From the mess in Edmund’s mind, it was clear now why he was so afraid of her reaction. The Emperor of Vellmoria would indeed make things difficult if they ever divorced, and Edmund knew it.
No wonder he looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown.
Well, he wasn’t wrong at all.
To be honest, if Primrose hadn’t been able to read his mind, she might have been terrified, because seeing someone covered in blood from head to toe wasn’t exactly comforting.
But now?
Now that she knew what was going on inside his head, she realized that all the fear she once had toward him ... was just gone.
Was Edmund scary? Yes.
But was she afraid of him? Not anymore.
He was cold, ruthless, and strong, but at the same time, he could be so awkward, so soft, so strangely considerate.
He wasn’t the kind of king who punished people over silly mistakes.
When a maid spilled hot tea on him, he just sighed and waved it off.
When a soldier ruined one of his prized swords, he didn’t even flinch and said, "It’s fine. Don’t worry about it."
Everyone thought he was a monster.
But Primrose saw the truth.
He only turned into a monster when it was absolutely necessary, like when someone tried to take her life.
Now, the so-called monster was hiding behind a door, scared like a child.
"Primrose," Edmund called from behind the door, his voice low, almost embarrassed. "I can’t let you see me like this. The stuff on my clothes ... it’s not red paint."
His weak excuse made Primrose sigh deeply.
Of course it isn’t.
Primrose stepped closer to the door, her hand gently resting on the cold wood. "I know," she said softly. "I’ve heard that something terrible happened in the capital ... about a ruthless beast tribe?"
Edmund froze for a second, clearly caught off guard. His throat tightened before he forced himself to reply, "Yes." He paused again, his voice sounding uneasy. "Did ... did you also hear what exactly happened?"
Primrose’s fingers curled tighter around the door handle. "I did."
Inside his head, Edmund’s thoughts were spinning.
At that very moment, Primrose finally realized something.
She wanted to know him.
Not as the Lycan King. Not as the warrior covered in blood.
But as Edmund, the man behind the crown.
Primrose gently pressed her head against the door, her voice soft. "Do you want me to die young from worrying too much about you?"
CLACK!
Primrose’s eyes widened as the door suddenly swung open. Since she had been leaning against it, her body stumbled forward, and for a moment, she thought she would fall.
But instead of hitting the cold floor, she collided straight into Edmund’s firm chest.
He instinctively wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her before she could lose her balance.
Primrose could immediately smell the thick scent of blood mixed with his pheromone.
Honestly, the blood made her feel nauseous, like she might throw up on the spot, but for some reason, Edmund’s warm embrace made her not want to move.
Edmund’s hand gripped her arm, pulling her back just enough for their eyes to meet. "DON’T DIE YET!"
His voice thundered through the quiet night, so sudden that even he froze right after.
His shoulders tensed, realizing how loud he sounded. Slowly, his voice softened. "I ... I don’t want you to die young."
This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦
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