The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me?!-Chapter 73: The Queen Who Feared Thunder

Edmund stayed quiet for a while.

[So ... My wife wants to make her father proud ...]

[Not only is she kind and gentle, but she’s also a devoted daughter.]

[As her husband, it’s my job to help her do that. And maybe, just maybe, her father will be proud of me too.]

"If that’s what you want," Edmund finally said, "then ... I can help you. How about I ask one of the royal advisors to meet with you tomorrow? They can explain your duties as queen and guide you through everything."

So ... she did have royal duties from the start.

How long had she been here now? Two weeks? Maybe more?

She had been in the palace all this time, and yet, her only real contributions so far were putting on dramatic performances and giving the maids and guards mild trauma with her fake "I’m-going-to-stab-myself" acts.

Well ... that wasn’t really her fault.

Honestly, it was his fault for spoiling her too much.

Not that Primrose wanted to complain, she liked being pampered, but at some point, she needed to find a balance between being the spoiled queen and the capable queen.

"That sounds wonderful, Your Majesty," Primrose said with a small smile, the corner of her mouth lifting shyly. "But please be patient with me if my work ends up being a little messy. This will be my first time doing anything like this."

Back in her homeland, she had spent most of her time learning how to take over her father’s business someday, not how to manage a palace or run a kingdom.

And worst of all, no one ever taught her what a queen was actually supposed to do during her first life in this place.

"You don’t have to worry about that, my wife," Edmund said with confidence in his voice. "Even if you turn this entire palace upside down, I’ll never blame you."

Primrose stared at him, completely unimpressed.

Sure, she wasn’t familiar with royal household management, but that didn’t mean she was about to destroy the whole palace and reduce it to dust!

She wasn’t that dumb!

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, a loud crack of thunder echoed across the sky, making Primrose flinch. Without thinking, she threw herself toward Edmund and clung tightly to him.

Wait a minute, wasn’t his room supposed to be soundproof? Then why on earth could she still hear that awful thunder from inside?!

The soundproofing quality of the walls in this room must still be terrible!

"The lightning ..." Edmund awkwardly patted her back, unsure how to calm her down. "It can’t hurt you."

Primrose knew that, of course.

She was inside the palace, surrounded by thick walls and a solid roof. If lightning wanted to reach her, it would have to bring down the entire palace first. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

But that wasn’t why she hated storms.

It wasn’t the lightning.

It wasn’t the rain.

It was the sound ... the feeling ... and the memories.

"I was born during a thunderstorm," she whispered, still clinging to Edmund’s arms while the thunder continued to rumble overhead. "And ... that was also the day my mother died."

Her mother, Iriana, passed away just minutes after giving birth to her. She died while holding her newborn daughter for the first time.

"I don’t remember anything from that day," Primrose said quietly. "But my father told me I cried for hours, like I didn’t want to let her sleep in peace."

She might not remember anything about the day she was born, but that hidden memory had long been buried deep inside her subconscious, becoming the root of her fear of storms.

Every time she heard thunder.

Every time she sat alone in her room and listened to the heavy rain outside. Her mind and her whole body felt like it was being pulled back to that day. The day she was born.

She might not clearly remember it, but sometimes, the faint glimpses of her mother’s pale face came back to her.

"I’m sorry," Primrose whispered, gently pulling away from Edmund’s embrace as the thunder finally began to fade. "I must look so foolish and childish."

Edmund’s arms lingered awkwardly at his sides.

For a moment, it looked like he wanted to pull her back into his arms, but in the end, he didn’t move.

Why did he always hesitate?

As long as she wasn’t slapping him across the face, then clearly, she had no problem being held by him.

"You don’t look foolish at all," Edmund said quietly, finally lowering his hands. Instead, he looked her straight in the eyes gently, so full of warmth, that it made her heart ache.

"There’s nothing wrong with being afraid of something."

[I’d heard that the Duchess of Illvaris passed away a long time ago.]

[But I didn’t expect her death would still be causing my wife this much pain ...]

Wasn’t it natural for someone to feel sad and hurt when they lost their parents?

In the end, no matter how much time passed, the wound of losing someone you love never really disappeared.

It would still linger in their children’s hearts forever, and there was no effective way to erase those wounds.

That’s exactly why Primrose couldn’t understand how Edmund could ever think that she would be fine after knowing her mother died giving birth to her.

When she stared at him for a while, Primrose finally came to a conclusion.

It wasn’t that he underestimated her feelings, it was just that the Lycan King simply couldn’t understand that kind of emotion.

Primrose had heard a rumor that Edmund’s parents had tried to kill him as soon as he was born into this world.

She didn’t know if it was true, or just gossip. But watching him now, seeing how hard it was for him to show his thoughts and emotions, she felt pretty sure that his parents never gave him the love he needed.

She had even often heard that Edmund’s parents had abandoned him, which caused him to grow up in a slump until he eventually challenged the last King of Noctvaris to become the new King of Beasts.

No wonder his table manners were a mess, like he had never properly learned etiquette since he was a child.

"How about you?" Primrose asked gently. "Have you ever been scared of anything?"

Edmund paused, thinking. "A few things," he said.

Primrose raised an eyebrow. "A few? I thought ... you weren’t scared of anything."

He looked away, then said softly, "I don’t like butterflies."

Primrose blinked, unsure if she heard him right. Butterflies? A man who stood almost two meters tall was scared of butterflies?

Did that even make sense?

"If you’re just trying to make me feel better," Primrose said, "please don’t. You don’t have to lie like that."