CHAPTER 245: THE QUEEN CAN’T MOVE HER LEGS! (I)

There were moments in Primrose’s life when she did things she didn’t really want to do, most of them just to get a little attention.

For example, she had intentionally given herself a fever just so her always-busy father would give her more attention.

The worst part was she didn’t do it only once.

She did it again and again, until one day, Lazarus finally noticed the pattern and confronted her. But instead of getting angry or yelling at her for pretending to be sick, he simply knelt beside her and said gently,

"Rosie ... if you want me to spend more time with you, all you have to do is say it." He gave her a soft smile. "Please don’t hurt yourself just to get my attention. I promise, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for you."

Her father had looked so sad and full of guilt that she never dared to do anything like that again.

However, she never expected there would come a time when she would hurt herself again. But this time, she hadn’t hurt herself to be noticed. In fact, she hoped no one would find out at all.

When she first stepped out of the bathtub, she felt nothing. Her legs were perfectly fine. Even when Hazelle helped her get dressed and guided her to bed, Primrose didn’t feel any different.

She thought maybe the poison wasn’t as effective on her, or perhaps the effects won’t be that bad.

But she had been too confident.

Just an hour before sunrise, Primrose began to feel numbness in her legs, and she couldn’t move them at all.

As Hazelle had warned, there was no pain, but the sudden inability to move her legs was terrifying, no matter how prepared she thought she was.

Edmund hadn’t come to her room yet, and honestly, she hoped he wouldn’t. She didn’t want him to worry too much.

She lay there quietly, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she had made the right decision. But really, what was the point of regretting it now? What’s done is done.

Right now, what mattered was making sure her husband didn’t notice her condition because the truth was, she wasn’t ready to get rid of Silas just yet. She still had another plan for him, something much worse.

More importantly, Hazelle was still bound to Silas, and according to Salem, a slave would die if their master died, at least as long as the slave seal was still intact.

Maybe ... she could convince Edmund that her sudden paralysis was due to a hereditary illness, not poison, and definitely not because he made her climb a thousand stairs the day before.

Oh no ... Edmund would think it was his fault, wouldn’t he?

Primrose didn’t want him to feel that way, but there was no doubt that he would.

Maybe it would be better to pretend nothing was wrong, but that seemed impossible because she had already promised Sevrin she would continue her lessons this afternoon, which meant she’d have to walk to the library.

Primrose ran her hands down her face, finally admitting to herself that she had made a mistake, a really big one. Maybe not entirely wrong, since Hazelle would’ve been punished if Primrose had woken up perfectly fine this morning.

Ah, whatever. She was too tired to keep thinking about it.

Maybe ... she could tell others she was sick, but ask them not to tell her husband? No, that sounded even worse. If she did that, Edmund would think she didn’t trust him or that she was hiding something from him on purpose.

So ... what should she do now?

She could cancel her class with Sevrin and say she wanted more rest. Maybe even ask Edmund not to sleep in her room today.

But that plan would only work for today. What about tomorrow? Or the day after that?

While she was still thinking about it, the door to her room creaked open slowly.

’Damn it! Why is he coming here now? Doesn’t he have a mountain of work waiting for him?!’

She quickly pulled the blanket over her face, not caring that the thick fabric made it hard to breathe. She just didn’t want to look him in the eye!

"Wife?" Edmund’s gentle voice echoed through the room. He walked to the bed so silently that it still creeped her out a little. "Why are you sleeping like this? You might suffocate under that blanket."

Primrose squeezed her eyes shut as Edmund lowered the blanket from her face.

But her act fell apart the second he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another to her lips.

The affection in his touch was so warm and sincere that Primrose instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh ..." Edmund was surprised by the sudden hug, but he quickly steadied her and hugged her back. "Did I wake you? I’m ... sorry."

Still, she said nothing. She just buried her face in the crook of his neck and gently nuzzled her nose against his skin.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, running his fingers through her hair. "Did you ... miss me that much?"

[Why did I say that?!] he scolded himself in his mind.

[Why would I say something so embarrassing first thing in the morning?!]

So ... her husband could get flustered too.

But forget about that for a moment because Primrose had more important things to deal with right now.

She realized there was no point in hiding something this important from him. Maybe ... it was better to tell him carefully.

"Husband," Primrose murmured, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. "I ... I don’t know what’s wrong, but ... I think I can’t move my legs."

Primrose swore to God, the moment those words left her lips, Edmund looked like he’d just been struck by a falling star. His eyes flew open in shock, his face drained of color, and the panic in his mind was so loud, it gave her an actual headache.

It was as if her words had broken something inside him.