CHAPTER 184: A BUNCH OF ANGRY BEASTS

The vacation that was supposed to be their honeymoon had turned into complete chaos.

News of the Marquess’s death spread like wildfire through Moonshadow, and before long, it had reached every corner of the Noctvaris Kingdom.

With Thalen gone, the local journalists no longer felt the need to hold their tongues and hands to write the news.

His threats didn’t scare them anymore. In fact, many of them were itching to expose every filthy secret he’d tried to bury.

However, before they could make a move, Edmund ordered the soldiers to gather the journalists in one place and have a serious talk with them.

Unfortunately, Primrose wasn’t invited to the meeting. Edmund had simply told her, "Let me handle this."

"The journalists are much fiercer than you think, Your Majesty," Salem said calmly.

He was seated beside her, sipping his tea like he hadn’t a care in the world. After taking a sip of the freshly brewed green tea, he let out a long, contented sigh.

Primrose narrowed her eyes, suddenly realizing that Salem was the only person who ever sat with her without hesitation. Others still seemed too careful around her, too formal or too unsure.

But Salem? He just sat down whenever he pleased. Sometimes, he didn’t even say anything, he simply joined her for tea like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Just like now.

Primrose had been sitting alone at the back of the inn—well, Callen and Solene were still nearby—and watching the peaceful valley below.

Then, as if summoned by the breeze, Salem appeared with a brand-new tea set and took the seat beside her.

He hadn’t even asked for permission.

But truth be told, Primrose didn’t mind having him around. People were often too hesitant to join her. Salem’s company, although sudden, was comforting.

Still, she couldn’t help but flinch a little when he appeared so silently, like a ghost slipping through the wind.

"No matter how fierce journalists can be, they won’t go as far as throwing tables across the room, right?" Primrose let out a soft sigh. "Sometimes ... it feels unfair that my husband won’t let me get involved in his affairs."

Salem chuckled softly beside her. "Oh, Your Majesty," he said with amusement, "you’re so adorably naive."

"Excuse me?" she frowned. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Salem turned toward her with a slightly exaggerated sigh, like a teacher about to explain something to a stubborn student.

"Well ... as you know, the journalists in this kingdom are beasts. And what do beasts do when a discussion gets too heated and out of control? Yell? Slam the table? Wrong!"

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice for dramatic effect. "They throw tables across the room. Sometimes they punch the wall until it cracks. But the most common? They punch each other!"

Primrose was taken aback by what she heard.

She knew that beasts were naturally more rough and used to violence, but she didn’t think they couldn’t hold a proper argument without smashing something.

"As you know, His Majesty wants to cover up the fact that the Marquess stole public funds to protect Raven’s reputation and her children."

"But those journalists ... they’ve been waiting for this moment for years. They won’t just sit back and smile when they’re told to drop the story."

He took another sip of tea, a little slower this time. "They want to tell the whole truth, but now His Majesty is standing in their way. He’s going to upset them, enough to make them want to throw things at him."

[Those journalists probably wouldn’t even care if the man in front of them was the King.]

For them, telling the truth was more important than fearing the mighty Lycan King.

"I already figured that might happen," Primrose sighed, her voice soft with worry. "But after talking it through with my husband ... this was the only way we could think of to protect Raven and her children."

"You misunderstood me, Your Majesty," Salem said, looking her in the eye. "I’m not saying your decision was wrong. In fact, I support it."

[Who cares about the truth? If His Majesty is willing to take responsibility and repay the damage, then let the truth stay buried for my Raven.]

What did he just call the Marchioness?

My Raven?

It was the first time Primrose had ever heard Salem refer to Raven that way.

There was nothing wrong with friends using affectionate nicknames ... but how could she put it? The way he said it in his mind, it sounded a little too romantic.

Didn’t he once claim he wasn’t into women?

"My husband said he has a plan to calm the journalists down," Primrose said, sensing Salem’s eyes narrow slightly, like he was trying to read her thoughts.

"But no, he’s not going to bribe them. That would just damage his reputation even more in the future."

She took a breath, then continued, "He’s planning to give them a bigger story, something even more shocking than the stolen money."

The matter of the cursed dormitory was still being kept secret by Edmund for a little while.

Only a handful of elite soldiers knew the truth, the ones who were sent to rescue the children and get them out of that place.

And since Ramond hadn’t told the other reporters what he’d found, it had been surprisingly easy to keep the story hidden.

When Primrose told Salem what the Marquess had done, the calm expression on his face completely vanished.

He nearly dropped his teacup if he hadn’t caught himself in time.

After a long pause, he finally said, "That ... that really is more shocking than embezzlement."

He leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the peaceful greenery in front of them, but his eyes were unfocused, bouncing from one spot to another like he didn’t know what to do with them.

"Are you ... alright?" Primrose asked gently.

Salem had always acted distant and aloof, so Primrose didn’t expect such a strong reaction from him.

"Am I alright?" Salem suddenly looked at her, his voice rising with disbelief. "Are you alright after hearing something that horrible? Your Majesty, that was one hell of a story and you expect me to be fine?!"

Primrose was startled when Salem suddenly snapped at her.

He had never been warm or too friendly toward her, but he’d also never raised his voice at her before.

"I didn’t mean it like that," Primrose said, trying to stay calm. "I only asked because ... I was worried about you."

[What the hell was that?!] Salem was also shocked by himself. He even leaned back slightly, putting distance between them.

[Did I just yell at Her Majesty? She wasn’t even responsible for what happened to those poor kids!]