No One Harms the Lycan King's Wife

The assassin swallowed hard, his left hand clutching his bleeding stump as he staggered backward.

Primrose had heard countless stories about Edmund, tales of a ruthless king who crushed his enemies without mercy. Legends of how he had slaughtered his rivals, paving his way to the throne with their blood.

The King of Beasts.

That title was not just an honorific. It was proof. Proof that he was the strongest among them all.

For years, beasts from various tribes had challenged him, seeking to claim his throne. Yet not a single one had ever managed to lay a finger on him.

After countless failed attempts to overthrow him, the challengers had finally learned their place. No one dared to rise against him anymore and they had no choice but to bow.

Yet, despite all the terrifying stories surrounding him, this was the first time Primrose had ever witnessed Edmund using his power to truly intimidate someone.

And yet … how was she supposed to fear him when his thoughts were so … unexpected?

He was similar to a guilty puppy that had just knocked over its owner's favorite cup and was now panicking, terrified of being scolded and abandoned.

[She must be terrified.]

[If I kill this bastard right in front of her, will she be even more afraid of me?]

[But she's still trembling. I don't want anyone else touching her.]

[What do I do? What do I do?]

Edmund turned to her, murmuring, "Close your eyes."

Primrose blinked, her lashes damp with tears. "W-What?" 

"Close your eyes," he repeated, this time firmer. "I don't want you to see this."

Well, sure. 

She didn't have the joy of looking at someone being killed.

As Primrose closed her eyes, Edmund approached the assassin, dragging his sword across the floor as if warning him that his death was drawing near.

"Y-Your Majesty, please! I only did this for you! You don't need a weak human—"

Crack.

The assassin's words were cut short as Edmund appeared before him in an instant, his clawed hand wrapped around the man's neck.

"No one gets to decide what I need," Edmund said coldly. Then, without hesitation, he hurled the man across the room, sending him crashing into the wall.

A sharp hiss of pain escaped the assassin's lips as he felt something crack in his back.

"You dare to ruin my wife's sleep?" Edmund's voice was low, dangerous.

Before the assassin could respond, cold steel pierced his shoulder.

He let out a strangled cry as Edmund's sword drove deep into his flesh, pinning him in place.

"You want to kill my wife?"

With a disgusted expression, Edmund reached forward and ripped off the assassin's mask. His icy-blue eyes darkened as he took in the man's face.

"I entrusted you with guarding the Queen's chamber," he spat. "And this is how you repay me? By plotting to kill her?"

Even with her eyes tightly shut, Primrose could hear everything.

So that's why no one had come to help her.

The very person who was supposed to protect her had been the one who wanted her dead.

"Y-Your Majesty, please have mercy!" the assassin pleaded desperately. "I'll do anything, anything for you, My Lord!"

Edmund didn't even blink. His expression was devoid of emotion, his icy-blue eyes colder than death itself. "I don't give second chances to those who dare harm my wife."

The assassin barely had time to react before Edmund moved.

In one swift motion, he pulled his sword free from the man's shoulder, blood spraying across the floor. The assassin gasped, his body trembling violently, but he couldn't even clutch his wound before the blade cut through his flesh and bone.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Then—THUD.

The assassin's head hit the floor, rolling a short distance before stopping near the remnants of the shattered vase. His lifeless eyes remained wide open, as if he hadn't even realized he was dead.

His body slumped forward a second later, blood pooling rapidly beneath it, staining the marble floor.

Edmund let out a harsh sigh, flicking his sword to rid the blood before putting it in its scabbard.

"Your Majesty … can I open my eyes now?" Primrose asked hesitantly

The room was silent, too silent. She could no longer hear the assassin's voice, which could only mean one thing.

Edmund had killed him.

The thick scent of blood filled her lungs, making her stomach churn. Judging by the overwhelming stench, the assassin hadn't died peacefully.

Good.

It would have been unfair if he died peacefully after making her scream until her throat was dry, after nearly crushing the life out of her with his bare hands. 

If anyone deserved to suffer, it was him.

[No, no, no! What if my wife sees what I've done and thinks I'm a monster?!]

She heard Edmund pacing across the room.

[Where should I hide this head?!]

A … head?

She wasn't stupid. She knew Edmund had killed the man, but she hadn't expected that. 

The image of a severed head flashed in her mind—lifeless eyes frozen in terror, blood pooling from the ragged stump of a neck.

No, that kind of memory would haunt her, making it impossible to sleep peacefully again.

"Your Majesty?" Primrose mumbled, trying to stand. But the moment she moved, her legs buckled beneath her.

Why was her body still trembling? The danger had passed because the assassin was dead, so what was she afraid of?

Was it the realization that someone had breached her chambers?

The one place in this entire kingdom where she had felt safe?

Or was it the terrifying realization that if Edmund had been even a second late, she would be dead again.

What if next time, the assassin didn't fail? What if someone crept into her chambers while she slept, ending her life before she even had a chance to fight back?

How was she supposed to close her eyes at night after this?

[Why is my wife crying again?! Did I do something to upset her?!]

[Is it because I ignored her for a minute?!]

Did she cry again? What the hell was wrong with her tonight?

Before Primrose could process anything, she suddenly felt herself being lifted off the ground. Edmund's strong arms wrapped around her, holding her securely.

"Your Majesty?!" Primrose gasped, shocked by how effortlessly he lifted her. "I can still walk on my own!"

"The floor is filthy." Edmund's voice finally reached her ears and surprisingly, it wasn't as cold as usual. "You can open your eyes once we're out of here."

[Would she be angry if I touched her carelessly?]

[But the floor is really dirty, and I don't want her feet to get dirty.]

Primrose sighed inwardly. 'If he's so afraid of making me angry, then why doesn't he just open his mouth and ask?!'

Whatever.

She was exhausted because dealing with an assassin had drained her completely. She had no energy left to teach the Lycan King how to communicate properly in a situation like this.

Not long after, she heard a soldier cautiously ask Edmund, "Your Majesty, the assassin—"

Edmund cut him off. "He died." His voice was cold, void of emotion, as if death was nothing more than an inconvenience to him. "Dispose of his body and ask the maids to prepare another bedroom for the Queen. This room is no longer fit for use."

She couldn't use it anymore?

Primrose's eyelids fluttered slightly as she peeked from behind Edmund's broad frame. She couldn't see the assassin's corpse in the corner of the room, but the state of her bedroom was clear.

Most of the furniture had been damaged—mostly because of her—while the floor and walls had been painted with blood. The room was a total mess, but she had no doubt that the skilled maids could erase every trace of this carnage in no time.

The question was … could she still sleep in this room?

She had been living in that bedroom for five years, but just because of one accident, the room now looked like a nightmare in her eyes.

Maybe it was time for a change.

Oh, maybe she could ask for a bigger room than her previous one. After witnessing her cry and tremble in fear, this lovesick Lycan would surely grant her anything she wanted, right?

She chuckled inwardly, perhaps she could also ask for more jewels and expensive gowns from him—no, it would be better to just ask for a big amount of money.

The night had been terrifying, no doubt. But if it meant gaining more favors from the Lycan King, then maybe it wasn't just a disaster, but an ordeal she had to endure before receiving her reward.

Before Primrose could think further about the list of things she wanted to ask from the Lycan King, she suddenly heard Edmund's thoughts.

[Where should I take her? Is it alright if I put her in another room and just leave her there?]

Did he think she was some kind of package?! Just dropped off somewhere and abandoned?!

Wait—why was she even upset at the thought of him leaving her? He had saved her; wasn't that enough?

But what if another assassin managed to sneak into her room while she was alone again? That was possible, right? Maybe she could ask for more guards, but … out of all the guards, wasn't Edmund the perfect protector she could ever ask for?

"Your Majesty …." Primrose tugged at his clothes, trying to get his attention.

"What?" he asked, his tone as cold as ever.

He really needed to learn how to warm up his voice!

"Can you stay with me tonight?" She fluttered her eyelashes, looking as if she was about to cry again. "I'm really scared to sleep alone."