CHAPTER 374: A VIAL FOR THE QUEEN

Edmund, who had been lazily lying on the bed moments ago, saying he was too weak to move, suddenly jumped to his feet. He stood tall with a straight posture, like a soldier ready to march into battle.

Primrose was caught off guard and shocked to see that her husband had truly recovered from his fever.

When he retracted his wolf ears and marched toward the balcony without any sign of weakness, she knew he had healed completely.

He had probably been fine for a while. All of those pitiful complaints and groans every half hour had only been an attempt to steal her attention.

"What’s wrong?" Primrose asked, quickly getting out of bed as well. She didn’t even bother calling him out on his little game. "Is this just a drill or something?"

"No. This is real." Edmund’s icy-blue eyes narrowed as he scanned the land beyond the window. His jaw tightened, his voice turning cold. "Damn it ... I knew something like this would happen near winter. Those fucking dogs."

Primrose’s stomach dropped. "The rogues?" she asked cautiously, inching closer to his side. The thought of rogues breaking through the borders and making it all the way to the palace made her chest tighten with fear.

"No," Edmund said firmly. "Not rogues. This is different. They’re a werewolf pack from the mountains, Blackpeak Pack. I’ve driven them away before, but every few years, they crawl back, trying to seize the throne."

His lips curled in disgust as he clicked his tongue. "They’re stubborn, and worse ... they know this kingdom inside and out. They’ve lived on these lands for generations, so it’s impossible to drive them out completely."

Primrose clung to his arm without realizing, trembling as he spoke.

"The Blackpeak Pack breeds like savages," Edmund went on, his tone filled with contempt. "Every year, they force their she-wolves to give birth, just to keep their numbers from fading. They steal women and children from weaker packs, enslaving them ... breaking them until the women are nothing more than breeding machines."

Primrose’s blood ran cold. The sheer cruelty of it made her stomach turn.

"That’s why I banished them," Edmund said, his voice low but sharp as steel. "I want this kingdom to be a safe place for beast women and children. But they refused to change, and when taming them proved impossible ... I decided to eliminate them."

He clenched his fist, his knuckles whitening. "But every time I strike, they scatter and slip through my grasp, and as long as a handful survive, they rebuild, stronger and more vicious than before."

Primrose shuddered and hugged his arm tightly, burying her face against his shoulder. "They ... they want the throne?"

"Yes." Edmund’s gaze darkened. "The last king of this kingdom was their Alpha. That’s why their current Alpha won’t rest until he claims this throne again."

Before Edmund’s reign, Noctvaris had been a nightmare. Beasts ran wild, humans lived in constant terror, and even the nobles disguised their daughters as boys so the Blackpeak Alpha wouldn’t steal them.

For cruel beast tribes, old Noctvaris was paradise. But for the weaker, gentler tribes, it was pure hell.

"It took me years to tear down the rotten legacy left behind by the last king," Edmund murmured. "And I won’t let those monsters bring it back."

"But don’t worry," Edmund reassured her softly. "They’ve tried to take this palace for years, and every single time, they’ve failed."

He moved back to the bed and, to Primrose’s surprise, pushed it aside. "What are you doing?" she asked, her brows furrowing.

Edmund didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled back the carpet and lifted several wooden panels from the floor. Beneath them was a hidden door leading into the darkness below.

"They may know every hallway and secret passage in this palace," Edmund said calmly, "but this ... this is new. I built it for you, in case something like this ever happened. The door is sealed with my magic, so only I can open it."

"If anyone else opens it ..." Edmund paused for a moment, lifting his head to meet Primrose’s eyes. "It means I’m dead, and if that ever happens, you must drink this."

From a drawer beneath the bed, he pulled out a small vial filled with deep crimson liquid.

"What is that?" Primrose asked in confusion.

"Poison."

Her eyes widened in shock because she had never expected her husband to hand her poison. But before she could speak, he continued, "It will take your life within thirty seconds, but I’ve made sure you won’t feel any pain."

"Edmund, why—"

"Primrose," he cut her off. His eyes were deadly serious, showing that he wasn’t joking and meant every word. "I could command Leofric or a dozen soldiers to guard you if I died, but, my wife ... no matter how powerful someone is, no one can protect you the way I can."

To protect something precious, a person must not only be strong and unbeatable; they must also have the will to protect it. They must love it so deeply that they are willing to sacrifice anything for it.

Edmund might not be the only powerful beast, but he was the only one who would willingly sacrifice everything to protect her.

Edmund took a deep breath. "If I die and the Blackpeak Pack takes the palace, your fate will be worse than death. I don’t want you to live through that nightmare."

He didn’t even want to picture the horrors they might inflict on his wife once he was gone.

Primrose was the Queen of Noctvaris, and everyone knew what happened to the queen when the king fell.

That was why, in the past, so many queens had chosen to end their own lives or burn themselves alive rather than be taken.

If a beast challenged Edmund formally for the throne, he could still ensure Primrose’s escape and even fake his own death. However, that plan was useless if the palace was attacked without warning.

The Blackpeak Pack knew every escape route of the palace, and some of them would surely be waiting outside to catch the queen if she tried to flee.

That was why Edmund had built a secret underground room with no entrance or exit except from their bedroom. He had sealed it with his magic so no one could open it. Even under the cruelest torture, he would never open the door.