CHAPTER 186: A DRAMA KING

"What happened in the meeting?" Primrose asked softly as she dried Edmund’s hair with a towel, gently patting away the leftover wine that clung to his strands.

Primrose still couldn’t believe that someone had actually dared to throw wine bottles at the king’s head.

That wasn’t just bold. That was madness.

It seemed their anger was far stronger than their fear or even the respect they should’ve had for the King of Beasts.

But what surprised her more than their boldness was Edmund’s silence.

He had allowed them to release their rage on him without fighting back.

If Edmund were the kind of king who lost control of his temper, that meeting could have turned into a massacre. A bloodbath.

"They were furious because I wanted to cover up the story about the Marquess embezzling public funds," Edmund said. "They thought I was protecting a corrupt man."

[They even accused me of stealing money too,] Edmund thought bitterly. [As if I’d waste time with that. My personal income is far bigger than this kingdom’s wealth. Why would I bother?]

Primrose blinked at the thought. She’d always known Edmund was wealthy, but now she was starting to think she didn’t even know how wealthy.

As far as she knew, even her father’s business hadn’t reached the level of a kingdom’s wealth. And yet Edmund claimed that his personal fortune was greater than the entire treasury of Noctvaris?

Just how much money did Edmund actually have? She started to suspect that the liquor business wasn’t his only source of income.

"Did someone hit you when the discussion got out of control?" Primrose asked, genuinely worried.

She wanted to check him thoroughly, but it would be pointless since any wounds would’ve already healed.

Edmund paused, staring at her so intensely that it made Primrose feel a little awkward and stop drying his hair. "W-what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

A few seconds later, Edmund finally replied. "No one hit me," he said. "They just ... threw things at me."

[What did they throw again? Hmm ... tables, wine bottles, and ... was it a knife? Or a sword? I can’t remember.]

A sword?!

A damn sword?!

Primrose’s eyes widened.

Who in their right mind would dare to throw a sword at her husband? If she ever found that person, she’d throw them off a cliff herself.

[Good thing my wife wasn’t at the meeting,] Edmund thought. [She might’ve gotten hurt.]

Primrose had to agree.

If she had been in the middle of that chaos, she probably would’ve frozen up in the corner, completely useless while her husband faced all that danger.

"They went way too far!" Primrose exclaimed. "A meeting is supposed to be a place for discussion, not violence just because things don’t go their way!"

"You must have suffered so much in there." Her voice suddenly softened, like she was comforting a hurt puppy. "My poor husband ... did you get badly hurt?"

[I dodged everything else, except the wine bottles, but ... my wife looks so cute when she worries about me like this.] Edmund thought.

[Maybe I should... act a little pitiful?]

"Mhm," he nodded, patting his chest slowly. "Someone threw a table at me... and it hit me hard."

[The table didn’t even touch me because I punched it first.]

"The bruises are gone now, but earlier ... it really hurt," Edmund murmured, turning his gaze away. Still, his eyes kept glancing back at her, like he was hoping she’d understand without him having to say more. "Would you mind helping me feel a little better?"

Primrose’s eye twitched slightly. She didn’t expect there would come a day when her husband would act like this, like a full-blown drama king.

His behavior reminded her of herself, back when she had just returned from the future.

At that time, she used to act sweet and pitiful just to win over Edmund’s heart.

But right now, her husband was doing the exact same thing for one reason only: to get more affection from his wife.

"But ... I can’t heal your wounds the way you do mine," she whispered, lowering her lashes. "I’m sorry."

[Why is she apologizing?!] Edmund panicked internally. [Did I say something wrong?! Did I make her upset?!]

Had he upset her?

Maybe just a little.

His request made Primrose realize just how little she could do for him. While Edmund always seemed to protect and care for her, she couldn’t even heal a scratch.

"I can heal myself! So you don’t have to do it!" Edmund blurted out, but quickly regretted raising his voice.

He cleared his throat and spoke again, softer this time. "But ... you can help me feel better by touching the place where it used to hurt."

He gently took Primrose’s hand and placed it on his chest. "Like this," he whispered. "This alone makes me feel so much better."

Primrose blinked in confusion, staring at her hand resting on his chest.

After fighting off the strange thought in her mind, she decided not to stroke it. Instead, she gave his chest a light squeeze.

Why did his chest feel firmer and bigger than hers? She wasn’t sure whether she should be amazed, jealous, or just laugh at the unfairness of it all.

She almost blurted out, "If I start working out like you, do you think my chest will get bigger too?"

Thank goodness she managed to keep that to herself.

"There, there," she said instead, pulling her hand back and giving him a soft pat like she would to a sulky child. "All better now. The bruises are gone."

Edmund didn’t smile, but Primrose could almost see an imaginary tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.

Was he really that happy just because she touched him?

She’d barely done anything!

"My arms were hurting too," Edmund said, clearly fishing for more. "Do you think you could help those feel better as well?"

Primrose sighed with a smile and sat beside him, gently massaging his arms.

Just in case the moment turned too steamy, she decided to change the topic before it got out of hand.

"So, what else happened during the meeting?"

"I ..." Edmund paused and shook his head a little, collecting his thoughts. "I gave them something else to report. Something even more urgent, the case about the abused children."

"At first, they didn’t believe it," he said quietly. "They couldn’t believe that the Marquess was capable of doing such terrible things. But after I showed them the proof ... they finally believed me."

That case was so messed up, so horrible, that even the angriest person in the room had fallen completely silent.

They finally understood why Edmund wanted them to spread that news instead of the story about the Marquess embezzling public funds.

He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for that rotten man.

What he wanted was to make it clear that he would take full responsibility for those children because he was the one who had given the Marquess permission to build the dormitory in the first place.

"Maybe," Primrose spoke gently, "instead of saying you helped create that awful place, you can just say that you’ll take responsibility for the kids."

Yes, Edmund had approved the dormitory. But if he admitted it so bluntly now, people would definitely turn their anger toward him, especially since the Marquess was already dead and couldn’t be punished.

"I can’t just walk away from this," Edmund said firmly. "At the end of the day, it was my fault. I failed to protect my own people."

His jaw tightened, frustration flickering in his eyes. "If only I had taken the time to visit that place more than once and really look around ... maybe I could’ve saved them sooner."

"Edmund," Primrose said softly, her voice filled with understanding, "didn’t the soldiers tell you that, from the outside, the dormitory looked completely normal?"

On the surface, the dormitory really did look decent. The Marquess had provided them with proper food, clean clothes, and even warm, cozy beds.

But no one realized that all of that comfort came at a terrible cost.

Those children had to give up something precious, something no child should ever have to lose.

At some point, they must’ve wondered, what’s the point of living comfortably if your mind and spirit are slowly being killed?

"Unless the kids spoke up about what he did, you never would’ve known," Primrose continued. "Even we only found out the truth because Mr. Ramond managed to steal his diary."

"I know you don’t want to run away from your responsibilities and I would never ask you to. I admire that about you."

She added, "But Edmund, letting them pour all their anger onto you isn’t wise. You’re still alive. That means you’re the one who will bear the consequences."

The people probably knew that the dormitory was built with the king’s permission. However, as long as Edmund focused on caring for the children and didn’t mention it, there was a chance they would overlook that fact.

Primrose had no desire to manipulate these people, but she understood that this approach was sometimes necessary to maintain their trust in the King of Noctvaris.

They might not be able to remove him from the throne without a formal challenge, but if they lost their respect and faith in Edmund, it would become much harder to rule them in the future.

If the royal advisors had found out about this before her, Primrose was sure they would’ve told Edmund the exact same thing.

Edmund clenched his fists. "That’s fine," he muttered. "I’ve grown used to people hating me. It doesn’t bother me anymore."