The King, The Bed, and His Suffering

[M-My wife wants to sleep with me?! S-She's not afraid of me?!]

Edmund's entire body locked up like a statue. His steps halted in the middle of the hallway, his grip on her tightening just slightly.

Primrose could feel the sudden stiffness in his muscles, the way his breathing hitched as if his brain had just stopped working.

She tilted her head, puzzled. Was he … blushing?

With a small sigh, she nudged his chin gently. "Your Majesty …?"

No response.

She tried again. "Your Majesty."

Still nothing.

Finally, she raised her voice. "Your Majesty!"

Edmund jolted as if she had just yanked him out of another dimension. His gaze snapped down to her, his expression blank for a second before he finally spoke. "I don't want to sleep with you."

Primrose narrowed her eyes.

Why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?

[YOU MORON! What the hell are you saying?!]

[I WANT TO SLEEP WITH MY WIFE!!]

[But … but what if I can't control myself?! It's so hard to control my boner these days.]

The corner of Primrose's lips lifted slightly. Wouldn't it be amusing to watch the mighty Lycan King suffer all night?

She was still upset that he hadn't come to her room sooner, so she decided to give him a little punishment.

"I'm sorry … I shouldn't have overstepped," she murmured, covering half of her face and forcing tears to spill from her eyes, this time, even heavier than before.

"I just feel scared to sleep alone. W-what if someone breaks into my room again?"

She swallowed hard, fingers brushing the faint bruises on her neck. "The thought alone is terrifying. And my throat … It still hurts from screaming. If something happens again, I might not even be able to call for you."

A shaky breath left her lips. "But I understand if it's too much to ask …"

She peeked up at him through the gap of her fingers. 'Let's see how long he can resist her tears.'

[MY WIFE IS CRYING AGAIN!]

[This is my fault. This is all my fault.]

[I should've come to her room sooner. Because of my incompetence, her throat hurts, and her neck … damn it! She must be suffer so much because of that bastard!]

[Maybe I should move her chamber next to mine. But for tonight …]

[I'll just sleep on the couch and keep my hands to myself!]

Edmund took a deep breath before saying, "Fine. You can stay in my room tonight." His gaze was sharp. "But don't touch me."

That look. Primrose had the sudden urge to poke his eyes out.

"Your Majesty, don't look at me like that." She tilted her head slightly, her lips trembling just enough to sell the act. Then, in the softest, most pitiful voice she could manage, she whispered, "It reminds me of the assassin. He looked at me the same way."

Only a fool would believe such a lie, especially since the assassin had worn a mask. How could she have even seen his eyes?

But, unfortunately, the lovesick king was the biggest fool of them all.

[My wife is afraid of my eyes!! I don't deserve to see her! I should go blind!]

… That was absurd.

If she asked him to jump off a cliff, would he actually do it?

… On second thought, maybe she shouldn't test that theory.

"Sorry …" Edmund whispered. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and when he opened them again, he refused to meet Primrose's gaze.

Wait, what?

Did he just—

He actually apologized!

For the first time, Primrose had managed to make the mighty Lycan King utter that sacred word.

Yes, he should say it more often. That way, people wouldn't see him as some arrogant king who thought his mere presence was too precious for commoners to even breathe the same air.

"I forgive you, Your Majesty," she said softly, a small smile appeared on her lips.

[She's … smiling? Is it because I apologized?!]

When Primrose rested her head against his chest, she could hear his heart pounding like a war drum..

[I'll apologize more often! Every day, if I have to!]

[Hell, I'll even say sorry if my breathing annoys her!]

Maybe … he didn't have to go that far. But whatever. As long as he stopped acting like a cold, lifeless statue, that was good enough.

When Edmund carried her into his chamber, Primrose froze for a moment.

This … What the hell was this?!

His bedroom was at least three times the size of hers! And she had always thought her room was already spacious enough.

Her eyes wandered, taking in the grandeur of his chamber. The room was dominated by shades of gray and black, giving it a dark yet elegant atmosphere.

Every piece of furniture was extravagant—ornate carvings on the bedposts, luxurious silk drapes, and a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. 

The price of just one of these furnishings could probably sustain a commoner's family for a lifetime.

Yet, the thing that stood out the most wasn't the decor. It was his scent, his pheromones, or whatever term the lycans used for it.

It smelled like a combination of warm vanilla and aged wine.

People said that once a lycan marked their mate, their mate would always find comfort in their scent. 

Primrose had assumed it only worked for other lycans or beasts, but now that she was close enough to breathe in his pheromones … she would be lying if she said she didn't feel at ease.

Actually, she even had the ridiculous urge to press her nose against his neck when he carried her here.

"You can take the bed," Edmund said as he carefully set Primrose down onto the soft bed. "I'll take the couch."

It was a reasonable arrangement, but where was the fun in that if he wouldn't suffer a little?

"Why?" Primrose patted the empty space beside her. "Your bed is huge. There's more than enough room for both of us."

[No. No way. I barely have control as it is.]

"I'll sleep on the couch," he repeated firmly.

Primrose tilted her head. "Are you uncomfortable sleeping next to me, Your Majesty?"

Edmund's eyes twitched. "That's not the issue."

"Then what is it?" she lowered her voice. "Does sleeping next to me disgust you?"

"Stop asking!" he shouted.

Primrose gasped, her hand flying to her chest out of reflex.

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Edmund looked even more shocked than she was, as if he just killed his own wife.

[FUCK! I SCREWED UP!]

[Is my wife going to die because of me?!]

"I-Is your chest hurting?" Edmund knelt in front of her, panic flashing across his face.

His hand instinctively reached out, but it froze mid-air when realization struck him—if he touched her there, he'd look more like a pervert instead of a concerned husband.

"A little …" Primrose sighed, pressing a hand to her chest for dramatic effect. Then, she took advantage of the moment to ask, "Do you really not want to sleep beside me?"

Edmund stiffened. "I'll sleep by your side!" The words came out too loud.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, Edmund averted his gaze and tried again, this time lowering his voice to a near whisper. "I'll sleep on the bed too."

Primrose immediately took his hands and smiled. "That's great!"

But before she could sleep, Edmund summoned a maid to help Primrose wash away the blood on her skin and change into fresh clothes.

He didn't call for Leah because Primrose had claimed she didn't want to trouble her, but let's be honest, she just didn't want to see that insufferable bitch's face tonight.

When the maid learned that Primrose would be sleeping in the King's chamber, she attempted to dress her in something entirely inappropriate—a sheer white nightgown that might just send Edmund to an early grave the moment he laid eyes on it.

Primrose wanted to punish him, but … she decided not to make his suffering any worse tonight.

In the end, she chose something that would grant Edmund a little peace—a long nightgown adorned with a delicate light blue ribbon at the center of her chest.

"Your Majesty, I'm ready for bed." Primrose entered the king's chamber with a light jog, her long nightgown flowing softly around her.

[FUCK! MY WIFE LOOKS SO PRETTY!]

[WHY IS MY BONER AWAKE?!]

What the hell …

She was fully covered! 

Her skin was barely showing, and yet, here he was, still fighting for his life!