The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me?!-Chapter 28: A Web of Lies

"Then, I’ll take my leave, Your Majesty." Silas bowed deeply before turning and walking out of the Queen’s chamber.

The eyes that once looked at her with warmth were now as cold as ice.

[If I have to look at her face any longer, I might just vomit.]

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, Primrose’s knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor. A crushing weight settled on her chest, making it hard to breathe, stealing the words from her lips.

Silas had been her only light in the darkness, the one source of comfort among the thorns.

But that light had been nothing more than a facade, hidden beneath layers of lies. The warmth she once felt wasn’t kindness, it was the searing heat of anger and hatred.

Silas despised the beasts. More than anything, he despised her, the woman who had walked into their den as a peace offering between two races.

She didn’t know why his hatred ran so deep, but the way he thought about them, it was filled with nothing but disgust and loathing.

"What if ..." Primrose finally spoke, but the words caught in her throat. She didn’t have the heart to finish her sentence.

What if Silas was the one who poisoned her soup?

No, that couldn’t be. He had never personally handed her the soup, the palace maid had been the one to bring it to her.

But, what if the maid and Silas had worked together? What if he had been the one who instructed her to slip the poison into the bowl?

Or ... was it even the maid? What if the soup had already been laced with poison before she picked it up from the kitchen?

Maybe it wasn’t the head cook either. Perhaps it was the assistant cook. After all, soup was a simple dish, so the cook might have left the task to their assistant.

The more she thought about it, the more uncertain everything became.

The cooks. The maids. The doctors.

There were dozens of the maids and the cooks in the palace, their shifts rotating constantly. Too many hands had touched her food, and any one of them could have been responsible. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

And then there were her doctors, there were three of them. Each of them had always treated her with kindness.

But now, after hearing the darkness in Silas’s thoughts, she realized something painful.

Kindness means nothing when a person is capable of smiling while planning your death.

Besides, what if the poison wasn’t just in her food?

What if it was also in the perfume she wore, the soap she used, or even in her lipstick?

It seemed like she needed a poison tester for everything she ate or touched.

Some might call her paranoid, but in human kingdoms, it was a standard precaution for royals.

Unlike beasts, humans had no natural healing abilities.

A single drop of poison could be enough to end her life and she wasn’t about to take that risk for a second time.

"What should I do now?" Primrose murmured to herself.

Right now, the only person she could truly trust was Edmund.

How ironic.

Once, she had seen him as the one person she needed to avoid at all costs. Now, he was the only one she could rely on.

Slowly, she pushed herself up from the cold floor, her legs trembling slightly as she let out a tired sigh.

Without thinking, she let herself fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as thoughts swirled in her mind.

If Silas was truly the mastermind behind her murder, then he would be the key to uncovering everyone who wanted her dead.

Like it or not, she had to let him stay in the palace for now. At least until she could piece together the full web of traitors lurking in the palace.

Letting out a slow, weary sigh, Primrose ran a hand through her hair. There were too many enemies, too many threats closing in on her.

And the worst part? She had no idea who she could truly trust.

"It’s time for me to choose my allies," she murmured.

And the first step?

Getting rid of that cunning, two-faced fox.

She had already planted the explosives. Now, all she had to do was strike the match and watch the flames consume everything.

• • •

The next day, Primrose was ready to light the match.

When Leah came to her room to help her dress in the morning, Primrose sighed repeatedly in front of the mirror.

At times, she would cup her cheek; other times, her gaze would shift between her own chest and Leah’s, as if secretly comparing the two.

[What the hell is wrong with her?] Leah’s inner voice dripped with irritation. [Is His Majesty comparing our bodies again?]

[That must be it.]

"Is something the matter, Your Majesty?" Leah asked, her voice carefully laced with concern.

"No, not at all." Primrose hesitated before sighing, as if reluctant to admit something. "It’s just ... His Majesty asked me to come to his room tonight, but ... it’s hard to bond with him again when he keeps talking about your body all the time."

’Husband, forgive me for making you look bad,’ Primrose thought with an apologetic grimace. ’I’ll make it up to you later.’

[His Majesty must be suffering so much, being stuck with such a useless, ugly wife.]

Suffering? That beast had spent the entire night pinning her down, taking his time, and filling her until she could barely move.

He didn’t look like he was suffering at all.

"But it’s still your duty to serve him in bed, Your Majesty," Leah said with an almost pitying smile. "A wife should always obey her husband’s desires."

Primrose resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She hated that phrase—it always made it sound as if a wife was nothing more than a slave to her husband.

A slave meant to fulfill his every whim.

Edmund wasn’t like that, of course. But many women weren’t as lucky as she was.

Wait. Did she just call herself lucky for marrying a beast?

Primrose nearly smacked her forehead because what the hell was she thinking?!

"I know that," she murmured, tapping her fingers against her chin. "But I really don’t want to meet him tonight."

She turned, opening her cabinet, and pulled out a golden key. "His Majesty even already gave me the key to his bedroom."