Chapter 333: The Flower That Withered (II)
Primrose could almost feel the weariness behind those words. Caring for someone who had been sick and suffering for so long was never easy. It wasn’t that the ill meant to be cruel, but when pain consumed them day after day, their moods darkened, and patience wore thin.
Then the woman’s eyes turned to Primrose, softening with surprise and warmth. "Oh my, is this Her Majesty the Queen?"
[She’s so beautiful ... and she looks like such a kind woman,] the maid thought to herself. [I heard she’s human, like me, but I never imagined His Majesty could truly fall in love with a human.]
She must have seen the way Edmund helped Primrose down from her horse. His touch was gentle and protective, and he never let go of her hand. To anyone watching, it was clear that the mighty King of Beasts loved his wife deeply.
Primrose had noticed it, too. Their bond grew stronger day by day, to the point that the palace’s soldiers and maids no longer seemed surprised to see their ruthless king become as sweet as a puppy whenever his wife was near.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you," Primrose said with a gentle smile. "I’ve come to visit Lady Lorelle."
The maid’s eyes lit up at Primrose’s words. "Of course, Your Majesty. Lady Lorelle will be glad to see you." She stepped aside and gestured toward the cabin door. "Please, come in."
Primrose gave her a small nod of thanks before glancing at Edmund. His expression was calm, but his grip on her hand remained firm, as though he was silently bracing himself for what awaited inside.
Leofric was the first to move, striding toward the door. The wooden floor creaked softly as he pushed it open, revealing the dim interior of the cabin.
"Lorelle, I’m home," he called gently as he stepped inside. His footsteps carried him toward the main room at the back of the cabin. "I’ve also brought Edmund ... and his new wife with me."
There was a pause, followed by the sound of a faint cough from the back room. Then a weak voice drifted out, "Edmund ...?"
Leofric pushed the door open wider, revealing a modest bedroom lit by a single lamp. On the bed lay Lorelle, her frame so thin it looked as though the blankets might swallow her whole.
Her skin was pale, her lips drained of color, yet her eyes still held a faint light as they turned toward the doorway.
Primrose’s heart clenched at the sight. Even without knowing her well, it was painful to see someone so frail, clinging to what little strength remained.
"It’s been such a long time since you visited me, Edmund." Lorelle tried to smile, though her lips trembled with the effort. "I almost thought you had forgotten me."
[He only came to see me once last year,] she thought bitterly, her blue eyes lingering on him. [Oh ... he looks a little older now. At last, I’m not the only one who keeps aging.]
Primrose’s gaze softened as she noticed the faint wrinkles lining Lorelle’s face. She looked older than Primrose had expected, surely nearing forty.
But ... why? Wizards were known to have ways of keeping their youth. Even Raven had done so. So why hadn’t Lorelle?
"How could I ever forget you?" Edmund’s voice dropped to a tender murmur as he stepped closer to the bed. "I was just ... a little too busy."
"Both of you are always busy." Lorelle let out a weak cough, forcing the words past her trembling lips. "Maybe you’ve grown tired of me ... maybe you hate me because I’m useless now and—"
"Lorelle." Leofric’s voice cut through her bitterness. His eyes narrowed with quiet pain. "Don’t say things like that. No one has ever thought of you as a burden."
Lorelle’s expression twisted with rage. "Liar!" she shouted, her voice breaking under the weight of her fury. With what little strength she still had, she snatched the water jug from the bedside table and hurled it at Leofric.
CRASH!
The jug struck his forehead, water splashing down his shoulder and pooling on the floor.
Leofric didn’t even flinch. Blood trickled slowly down his brow, but he remained standing, silent, as if he had long grown used to her outbursts.
"If you really cared about me, you would just let me die!" Lorelle screamed, her blue eyes burning with grief and fury. "Instead, you cursed me with your damn magic!"
"I never cursed you," Leofric said quietly, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the blood from his forehead. His expression didn’t waver, even as the red stain spread across the cloth. "I gave you a protection spell to stop you from hurting yourself."
Lorelle, still trembling with fury, turned her face away from them all. "I don’t need your protection. I don’t need your pity. What I need is freedom ... even if it means the freedom to die."
Leofric shifted his gaze toward Edmund, as if to say this was the very reason why he had wanted to trick her with Primrose’s magic to let her die in a painless way.
"Go away, leave me alone." Lorelle’s voice cracked as she spoke again, cutting them off before anyone else could say a word. "I don’t want to see your face."
Edmund let out a long, weary sigh. His hand twitched at his side, aching to reach for her, to bridge the distance between them. "Lorelle, I’m sorry, I—"
"I said go!" Lorelle’s frail body trembled as she screamed, her anger burning through her weakness. She snatched up a glass and hurled it at him with all the strength she had left.
The glass flew past Edmund, shattering against the wall as he stepped aside just in time.
"Come on, let’s give her some time alone," Leofric said quietly to Edmund and Primrose. As he moved toward the door, he paused and glanced back at his sister. "I’ll come back later."
[Why am I like this? Why am I like this?] Primrose stopped in her tracks as she suddenly heard Lorelle’s cries echoing in her heart. [I didn’t mean to hurt them ....]