CHAPTER 323: THIRD WHEELING

"Yeah, it’s not possible," Leofric chimed in. "Since that person has already passed down their ability to Her Majesty, she won’t be able to return it. And finding someone with the exact same birth time and even the same fate is nearly impossible."

He went on, "We could try a ritual to search for such a person, but I’m sure that in fifty years, you’d only find maybe two people who share the exact same fate and pain."

More than that, Primrose had been reborn, so wouldn’t she also need to find someone else who had been reborn? That would make the search even harder.

Primrose, deep down, was still unsure if her ability had truly been given to her by someone else. After all, her life had been complicated from the start.

"If someone really gave this ability to my wife, then they should take responsibility for it," Edmund growled, his jaw tight. "I will find that person."

[How dare someone give something so dangerous to my wife,] Edmund thought darkly. [I will never forgive them. I will kill that—]

"Edmund." Primrose reached up and cupped his cheek, pulling him back from the darkness in his mind. "I know the heavenly trial sounds awful and terrifying, because I’m scared too, maybe even more than you. But ...."

Her eyes softened as she went on, "I can’t deny that this ability became the key that healed us. If I hadn’t been able to read your thoughts, maybe ... our fate would’ve been just as tragic as in our first life."

Edmund fell silent for a moment. His gaze softened, but sorrow weighed heavy in his eyes. "This is my fault." His brows knitted together, and he looked as if his heart had just been ripped apart. "I ... I wasn’t able to show you my love properly, so—"

"That’s alright." Primrose smiled, brushing her fingers gently over his cheek. It felt to him as if soft cotton had touched his skin. "It wasn’t your fault either."

Edmund had grown up in an environment surrounded by blood and violence, so it was extremely hard for him to express love to her. Even normal conversations were difficult because his whole life he had only known how to yell and command.

Perhaps it was a bit harsh to say, but sometimes Primrose thought of him as a stray dog, one that had never once felt the warmth of someone’s arms.

He had roamed the streets alone for years, scavenging through trash just to survive, and at times enduring all kinds of terrible things while living as a beggar.

That was why now Primrose understood why he hadn’t been able to express his feelings properly back then.

"If this is the only path that allows me to have you, then I’m willing to take it again," Primrose whispered. "The heavenly trial might sound horrifying, but to me, it’s far scarier if I can’t see this version of you."

The version of Edmund who always thought of sweet things, even though his mouth was often filled with sharp words.

His mind might be messy and loud, but within it, Primrose had found her solace.

"Wife, I ..." Edmund couldn’t continue. The only thing he could do was lower his head, kiss her palm, and whisper softly, "I’ll do anything, as long as I can protect you from any threat, even heaven itself."

His voice was so gentle, it eased her heart until Primrose no longer felt afraid. "Husband, let’s face this together."

"Wife, let’s—"

"Your Majesties," Leofric cleared his throat just as the tension between them grew so warm it nearly burned his eyes. "Did you forget that I already have a solution? Neither of you needs to sacrifice anything, or even face heaven."

[As if they could really survive against heaven,] Leofric deliberately left his thoughts unshielded by magic, perhaps so Primrose could hear them clearly.

It wasn’t as if she and Edmund were actually planning to storm heaven and fight the gods anyway! They were simply promising to face everything side by side.

"You’re right." Edmund took a deep breath before finally turning his face toward Leofric. "You do have a solution for this."

Edmund’s smile stretched across his lips, but it wasn’t warm at all, it was chilling, like a madman ready to skin his victim alive. "But instead of helping, you decided to take advantage of it. You want to use my wife’s ability for your own gain!"

Edmund, who had only been worrying about Primrose earlier, finally unleashed all the anger in his heart and poured it onto Leofric.

He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword. "Tell me, Sir Leofric. What exactly do you have that could help my wife?"

Leofric leaned back against the sofa, sliding his chair slightly away from Edmund as if to guard himself. "Oh, Your Majesty, before I hand you this valuable information, you’ll have to give me a gift first."

"Don’t be like this, Edmund." Leofric dropped all the formality in his tone, speaking as if they were old friends. "You know very well how much my sister, my Lorelle, means to me. Just like you would do anything for your wife, I would do anything for my sister as well."

Edmund didn’t say anything, caught in his own dilemma, because he knew Lorelle all too well.

[She truly is such a pitiful lady,] Edmund thought. [She really is a pitiful lady,] he thought heavily. [I don’t want Lady Lorelle to suffer either ... but letting him use my wife like this? If I allow it now, I fear it will only happen again in the future.]

Primrose understood his worries too. After all, even the smallest favor could slowly grow into something much bigger if it was allowed to continue.

However, Leofric wasn’t wrong either, since he only wanted a reward for his hard work.

"I’m not asking for too much." Leofric finally stood from his seat and slowly walked toward Edmund. His gaze suddenly turned serious. "Please ... I’m not sure how much longer my sister can live. That’s why, at the very least, this—"

"I will do it for you, Sir Leofric," Primrose suddenly cut in, startling even Edmund.

His head snapped toward her, his eyes narrowing. "Wife, don’t speak so recklessly."

But Primrose said calmly, "It isn’t reckless. His sister’s life matters to him as much as mine matters to you. If there’s something we can do to ease her suffering, then I want to help."

Primrose’s calm words lingered in the air, but inside, her heart beat faster. She wasn’t lying, she truly felt compassion for Lorelle, but her real reason was different. She needed whatever protection Leofric could offer, something strong enough to shield her from heaven’s gaze.

Edmund’s sharp eyes stayed fixed on her, as if he could see through the thoughts she was hiding. His lips pressed into a thin line, caught between scolding her and holding his tongue.

But how could he possibly bring himself to scold his wife?

In the end, he let out a long breath and slid his sword back into its sheath.

Leofric, on the other hand, looked almost relieved. He bowed his head slightly, a faint smile softening his sharp features. "Your Majesty ... thank you. You’ve given me hope."

Primrose slowly reached for her husband’s hand, gently guiding him to sit beside her again before saying, "This isn’t charity, Sir Leofric. This is business."

• • • •

No one had expected their meeting to end so quickly, and without a single drop of blood spilled.

Edmund managed to hold back his anger and listened to his wife. At the same time, Leofric carefully held his tongue, doing everything he could not to say something that might break what little patience Edmund had left.

When the agreement was finally settled, Primrose gave her word. She promised she would visit Leofric’s sister the next day, right after her lesson with Sevrin.

"Wife, I’m still not sure you should do this," Edmund said once they stepped into the king’s chamber. "Even if you don’t command something harmful to his sister, making her believe she’s healthy could be just as deadly as killing her."

Primrose glanced around his chamber, impressed by how spotless it was, as though the maids didn’t dare leave even a speck of dust on the floor.

"I know." Without hesitation, Primrose threw herself onto the bed, letting her legs dangle off the edge since she was too lazy to take off her shoes. "But he isn’t wrong to ask for something in return. After all, he’s worked hard to gather so much information about my ability."

She stared up at the ceiling, whispering, "This is the least I can do for him."

If she could, she would choose to heal her sister over giving her false hope.

Edmund walked over to the bed, then gently slipped off her shoes and placed them neatly beneath it. His fingers softly pressed against her feet, massaging them with surprising care for someone whose hands were more used to holding a sword than offering comfort.

"All right, I’ll let it slide this time." Edmund said seriously. "But if he asks for something more dangerous than this, then I will forbid him from ever seeing you again."

Primrose didn’t answer him right away. Instead, her attention drifted to Edmund, who was slowly and gently massaging her feet.

He seemed calmer now. Was it because of her feet?