CHAPTER 249: HE’D CUT OFF HIS LEGS FOR ME

Edmund looked unsure, his brows furrowing slightly like he wasn’t convinced. It was the kind of look people wore when they heard something that sounded too good to be true.

To be fair, she hadn’t actually talked to Raven about it yet. They simply hadn’t had the time because after the Marquess’s death, Primrose had to return to the palace immediately because of the tiger tribe’s sudden attack.

Now, worry started creeping into her chest.

She had promised Hazelle she would help free her. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting her down now ... especially if Raven wasn’t actually able to break the seal.

"I ... is that really impossible?" Primrose asked hesitantly.

Salem had once said it was, but he also mentioned that Raven had managed to break a few slave seals in the past. Even so, Primrose knew she probably shouldn’t have given someone hope so easily.

But at that moment, she did it because she thought it might be her only chance to speak with Hazelle privately without Silas around to interrupt.

Still, maybe she shouldn’t have told Hazelle too soon.

"No ... it’s not exactly impossible," Edmund finally said. "If we know the secret words used by the person who cast the seal, it’s actually easy to break. But if we don’t know the words, then we’ll need someone with real expertise to destroy it."

"I don’t know much about Lady Raven’s abilities," he added, "but if the Marquess of Moonshadow wanted to marry her, then she must be incredibly skilled. Besides that, since you believe in her, then I will too."

That wasn’t the kind of solid confirmation Primrose had been hoping for, but the way he said it, so sweet and sincere, made her heart soften anyway.

It reminded her how lucky she was to have a husband who trusted her so deeply.

"If you really want Sir Vesper and Lady Raven here as soon as possible," Edmund said, "I can send some soldiers to Moonshadow now. They might arrive by sunset, depending on the situation."

Primrose went quiet for a moment, thinking.

The beasts truly could travel great distances much faster than a carriage would.

She made a mental note to start building her strength in case one day she’d have to travel without a carriage.

"That sounds good," she said with a smile. "Thank you, husband."

Edmund was still kneeling on the floor beside her bed, and no matter what she said, it didn’t look like he had any intention of getting up.

Even though she’d hinted that her illness might be caused by poison, not exhaustion, he still blamed himself.

[If it really was poison,] he thought bitterly, [how could I have missed it?]

[Why do I keep failing to protect her?]

[What kind of husband am I?]

[I’m such a failure,] he thought, his heart sinking. [I’m nothing but a loser.]

"Husband!" Primrose suddenly cupped his face and gently lifted it until their eyes met.

She paused, searching for the right words. "Why do you still look so sad?" she asked softly. "Didn’t I already say that it might not be a hereditary disease? That means I’m probably not sick because of climbing a thousand stairs with you."

She said it to comfort him, to take the weight off his shoulders, but somehow, it only made him look even more devastated.

"What if that is the reason?" he murmured, lowering his head so much that she couldn’t see his face anymore. "What if asking you to climb those stairs ... really did this to you?"

"I never should’ve asked you to do something that hard ... this is my fault. It’s all my fault," he repeated over and over again, his voice barely a whisper.

And that, more than anything, made Primrose feel truly guilty. How did trying to comfort him end up making him feel worse?

"HUSBAND! THIS ISN’T YOUR FAULT AT ALL!"

Primrose raised her voice so suddenly and so loud that her throat went dry and started to sting a little. "Even if climbing those thousand steps triggered this condition ... it still wasn’t your fault because I wanted to do it. It was my choice."

"I love you so much that I wanted to pray at the Moon Goddess Temple with you!" She smacked both of his cheeks, firm enough that his skin turned slightly red, though her palms definitely took more of the pain.

"If you really need someone to blame, then blame me because I was the one who insisted on climbing those stairs, remember? I was the stubborn one!"

"How could I ever blame you?" Edmund’s brows furrowed slightly.

Today, Primrose noticed he was showing more emotions than usual on his face, at least. Normally, he was more expressive in his heart than in his actions.

"I could never blame you, my wife ...," he whispered.

"Then just like you, I won’t ever blame you either." Primrose gave him a determined look. "Even if I end up paralyzed for the rest of my life, I still won’t ever blame you."

"Don’t say things like that!" Edmund said quickly, his voice trembling. "You will walk again, I believe it!"

[If my wife becomes paralyzed permanently,] Edmund thought frantically, [then I’ll cut off my own legs so we can be handicapped together!]

Primrose blinked slowly as his inner voice screamed inside her mind.

Seriously? That was his solution?

If she really couldn’t walk, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to keep his legs so he could carry her everywhere?

Why did his logic always lead to something dramatic and self-destructive?

"That’s right," Primrose said more gently now. "I’ll definitely walk again. That’s why, please ... don’t blame yourself, and don’t keep thinking I’ll never recover."

She gave him a small smile. "Besides, even if I can’t walk anymore, my strong husband will just carry me everywhere, won’t he?"

"Please ... don’t say things like that again, my wife," Edmund pleaded, clearly overwhelmed.

His face twisted in frustration, and his voice cracked from how tightly he was holding back his emotions. "Please ... I’m begging you."

[Those words ... they make me want to jump off a balcony immediately.]