By the time Edmund had grown old, Primrose might already be gone.
She had heard stories that lycans could live for three hundred years, some even longer.
Meanwhile, humans like her rarely made it past eighty.
If someone strong enough to defeat Edmund came when he was centuries old, she wouldn’t even be there to witness it. She’d already be resting in peace.
But still ... what if that moment came much sooner?
What if someone tried to take his throne while she was still alive?
What if she had to watch him fall?
As if he could sense exactly what was on her mind, Edmund spoke again, "Besides ... I’ve saved a lot of money in other places," he said. "If something bad ever happens, we can leave this kingdom and still live a good life for as long as you live."
[I’ll never let my wife suffer.]
[I’ve worked hard to collect enough wealth so she’ll always be safe, always comfortable ... even if we have to leave the palace behind one day. She’ll still be able to wear nice clothes, eat well, and live without worry.]
They had only been married for a few weeks, but he had already thought this far ahead for her well-being?
Primrose blinked, quietly moved.
"But," she said a little louder, "isn’t the rule for taking the throne ... you have to kill the last king?"
"That’s true," Edmund said without hesitation. "But it’s not that hard to fake my death."
[It’s not like I’m a coward or afraid to die. But if I’m gone, how is she supposed to survive on her own?]
[This world is cruel. People are cruel. I don’t even want to imagine what they’d do to her if she were left alone.]
Primrose opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Edmund stepped closer and looked right into her eyes.
"But even with all that," he said seriously, his icy blue eyes locking with hers, "I still want to have a baby."
Well, even if Edmund didn’t plan to force his children to carry on his lineage, people would still respect her more if she gave birth to his children, right?
Primrose lowered her gaze and murmured softly, "I want a baby too."
Aside from earning respect among the beasts, deep down, Primrose truly wanted to have children on her own.
"Maybe two," she added shyly. "So they won’t feel lonely."
Edmund lifted his hand, reaching for her cheek. Before he could pull it back, Primrose gently took his hand and placed it against her own face.
"Husband," she said softly, letting him stroke her cheek with his thumb, "you don’t have to hesitate when you want to touch me. If I don’t like something, I’ll tell you."
Edmund froze for a second, swallowing hard. "Really?"
Primrose nodded. "Really."
"Can ... can I touch your hair whenever I want?" he asked, almost sheepishly.
"As long as you don’t mess up my hairstyle, I don’t mind," she replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.
His other hand came up slowly, his fingers threading through her soft crimson strands.
This kiss ... felt completely different from the ones before.
Their first kiss, on their wedding night, had been rough and filled with pent-up desire. The second one, on the rooftop, had lasted no more than two seconds.
But this kiss ... this one was soft, like a feather falling gently to the ground.
It lasted longer than she expected, so long, in fact, that she lost track of time.
She wrapped her arms around Edmund’s neck, leaning into him and letting his body support her own.
Every so often, Edmund would pull away for a brief second, just long enough for her to catch her breath — and then kiss her again, deeper, slower.
Primrose’s neck started to ache from looking up for too long, and her feet were getting sore from standing on her tiptoes.
Even though Edmund had already leaned down to meet her height, Primrose still had to stretch just a little to reach him.
After a while, her legs grew tired, and she gave up, letting her heels fall back to the ground, which caused their kiss to gently break apart.
Seeing her struggle, Edmund didn’t say a word. He simply slid his arms around her and lifted her off the floor with ease, holding her close until their faces were perfectly in line again.
Primrose let out a soft, surprised squeak and quickly clung to his shoulders.
Before she knew it, she was seated securely in one of his arms like she weighed nothing at all.
"You’ll get tired if you carry me like this," she whispered, her cheeks slightly reddened.
Edmund leaned in closer, whispering, "I’ll never get tired of holding you, wife."
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