CHAPTER 247: THE QUEEN IS THE KING’S WEAKNESS

Edmund, standing beside her, looked as if the weight of the world had just landed on his shoulders.

His brows were furrowed so deeply, and Primrose didn’t even need to read his thoughts to know that he was drowning in guilt, and it was written all over his face.

He didn’t speak because he couldn’t. The guilt within him had drowned him that Edmund wasn’t able to swim to the surface.

Meanwhile, Primrose was trying her best to hide how much she was hurting. She clenched her jaw, her fingers gripping the blanket tightly as she forced herself to breathe through the pain, even the thought of someone brushing against her feet made her flinch.

Despite all the pain, Primrose still tried to pretend. "My father ... didn’t have any kind of hereditary illness," she said softly.

Silas responded, calmly but falsely, "What about your mother, Your Majesty?"

[I’ve already gathered information that her mother died shortly after she was born.] Silas thought to himself. [I tried to track down her maternal relatives, but I couldn’t find anything. It’s as if her father married a ghost.]

[Well, that works in my favor. If even she doesn’t know anything about her mother’s side, then she can’t prove me wrong.]

Primrose wanted to punch him for thinking something so heartless, but the truth was ... he wasn’t entirely wrong.

She really didn’t know much about her mother. Whenever she asked her father, he would tell her that her mother grew up in an orphanage and didn’t know her own family either.

Her paternal grandparents had even objected to the marriage, thinking her mother’s background wasn’t good enough for someone who would become the next Duke of Illvaris.

On top of that, her mother, Iriana, had been just a tavern waitress, so people truly thought their relationship was a joke.

They whispered that Lazarus only wanted her for her body.

They claimed Iriana was chasing his money.

Almost everything people said about their relationship was ugly gossip and no one believed it was real love.

But none of them knew that Lazarus had been a complete fool in love, the kind of man who would climb a mountain and back if Iriana ever said she wanted a flower that only bloomed at the summit.

If only Primrose could’ve seen those moments herself, maybe her life would’ve felt a little more colorful.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that she knew very little about her mother’s family, and Silas was using that against her.

"I’m not sure about my mother," Primrose finally said. "I don’t know much about her, so ... I can’t answer that question with certainty."

Once again, Primrose noticed the corner of Silas’s mouth twitch slightly, like he was trying not to celebrate his little ’victory’ too soon.

[This is more satisfying than watching her die,] Silas thought.

[I want to watch this traitor suffer more than she can bear. Besides, it looks like the Beast King truly cares about his wife.]

[I want to see what kind of face he’ll make when his wife ends up completely paralyzed.]

[Tch. I should’ve just added more poison to make sure it was permanent.]

[Forget it. Let’s just consider this is the calm before the real storm begins.]

Primrose nearly laughed when she heard his overly confident thoughts.

Before he could bring her to her knees, she would make sure he was the one begging for mercy.

She would make sure of it.

"Then, there’s a possibility," Silas said aloud, "that this rare condition came from your mother’s bloodline, Your Majesty."

Primrose didn’t answer. She just watched him closely.

Doctors often used vague explanations when they encountered unfamiliar symptoms. Most patients understood. But sometimes, especially with nobles, the moment a doctor didn’t have all the answers, they were treated like fools.

Silas wasn’t just trying to sound professional, but he was carefully planting doubt, hoping people would stop asking too many questions.

Unfortunately for him, Edmund wasn’t the kind of noble who’d stay calm when his wife’s life was involved.

He looked like he was one second away from grabbing Silas by the neck. His expression was hard, jaw tight, eyes colder than the frost-covered mountains in the Forsaken North.

But still, he was clearly holding himself back, trying his best not to lose control in front of his wife.

"I don’t want to hear ’maybe’ or ’possibly’ from your mouth," Edmund said. His voice was low and sharp, enough to silence the entire room, even Primrose flinched a little. "Tell me exactly what is happening to my wife."

Silas held his breath, and to Primrose’s surprise, Edmund had actually managed to terrify the fake doctor so much that his mind went completely blank for a few seconds.

[This monster ...] Silas hissed in his thoughts. [One day, I’ll make him pay for looking at me like that.]

As if he could actually hurt the mighty Lycan King.

If Silas could hurt someone like Edmund, he would’ve done it long ago instead of playing tricks on Primrose.

"I-I beg your pardon, Your Majesty," Silas finally said, bowing deeply. He looked like a doctor who had just failed to save a patient, full of guilt and regret. "This is the first case I’ve ever seen like this."

"Intense physical activity can sometimes cause leg cramps or stiffness the next day," he continued, voice trembling, though Primrose knew it was all an act. "But I’ve never seen a case of sudden paralysis like this. Her Majesty’s condition is extremely rare, Your Majesty."

In other words, he was subtly blaming the thousand steps Edmund had made her climb yesterday.

Those words shattered Edmund’s world in an instant. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists so tightly that Primrose could hear his knuckles crack.

"Then tell me, will my wife stay like this forever?" he asked, his voice dangerously low, like he was a second away from throwing something heavy across the room.

Silas knew better than to say "I don’t know." If he did, the Lycan King might just throw him off the balcony.

So instead, he took a breath, looked thoughtful, and said, "Since I’ve never treated this condition before, I can’t say for sure."

"But ..." Silas quickly added before Edmund could explode, "Most rare illnesses tend to show symptoms gradually. I believe Her Majesty’s legs will recover within the next few days."

Edmund still didn’t look satisfied with the answer, but there was at least a hint of relief in his expression, knowing that his wife wouldn’t be paralyzed forever.

"How long?" he demanded.

Silas didn’t risk another pause. He acted like he was doing mental calculations, then finally said, "Around three days, Your Majesty. But it could be shorter or longer, depending on how well her body responds."

"I suggest Her Majesty avoids any strenuous activity for the next few days," Silas continued carefully.

Primrose had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. If it were any other doctor, she might’ve nodded and agreed out of respect. But coming from Silas, those words just sounded ridiculous.

Strenuous activity? Really?

Her entire lower body was paralyzed. What kind of "activity" did he expect her to be doing? Climbing mountains?

If anything, she’d be lucky just to sit up without help. And honestly, knowing Edmund, he probably wouldn’t even let her lift a spoon by herself now.

She sighed softly, already picturing her overprotective husband fussing over her every second, apologizing endlessly for dragging her up those stairs the day before.

’Why am I even doing this to myself?’ she thought miserably.

Yes, she had made this choice, but that didn’t make the pain or regret any easier to deal with.

But even so, if she told Edmund the truth right now, he would definitely kill Silas on the spot.

If Silas died, Hazelle would die with him too, and Silas wouldn’t even get the suffering he deserved.

Primrose didn’t want any of that. But at the same time, seeing her husband so heartbroken was tearing her apart inside.

Maybe ... maybe she could give him a little hint? Or perhaps she could start by telling him the truth about Hazelle’s situation?

But she had to do it carefully—slowly—and make sure he didn’t storm out of her bedroom before she could explain everything. If he rushed out too soon, she wouldn’t have the chance to warn him that killing Silas could cause even bigger problems.

Yes. That’s what she’d do.

She would wait until everyone had left, then she’d talk to him.

Or at least ... that was what she thought would happen.

Because just a few seconds after Callen escorted Silas out and quietly shut the door, the mighty Lycan King dropped to his knees beside her.

He didn’t say a word at first. He simply grabbed her hands tightly and his eyes shimmering with something she didn’t expect to see.

Tears.

He was crying?!

HER HUSBAND WAS CRYING?!

"Please forgive me, my wife," he said, his voice trembling. When he looked into her eyes, the sorrow on his face was so raw, Primrose forgot how to breathe for a moment. "I’ve failed you. I’ve failed to be a good husband."