CHAPTER 267: THE BOND THAT NEVER BREAKS

Primrose chuckled softly. "You’re overthinking it. Maybe I’m just lucky, that’s all."

She began turning the wheels of her chair, trying to make her way toward the couch across from her bed. But when she struggled a bit, Raven quietly stepped behind her and gently took over, pushing the wheelchair without saying a word.

"What can I help you with, Your Majesty?" Raven asked. "I doubt you called me here just because you were bored."

She stopped once they reached the couch. As the Marchioness sat down beside her, Primrose finally spoke, "It’s about my husband."

She fidgeted with her fingers, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "To be honest, at first, I just wanted to ask you to look into my past life again ... but now, I can’t help but wonder if my relationship with Edmund in this lifetime will really be alright."

Raven lowered her head for a moment, then tapped her forehead with a light sigh. "Here’s the thing, Your Majesty ... Even though I can see the future, it doesn’t mean I always see it clearly."

"Sometimes, I don’t have to perform any ritual, but sometimes I have to perform a ritual first if I want to see a specific moment in time. Other times, visions just come to me out of nowhere."

Primrose didn’t interrupt, letting Raven continue.

"And sometimes," Raven added, "the future looks blurry, like something is blocking it. I haven’t looked too deep into yours and His Majesty’s future yet, but even at a glance, it’s a little hard to see."

There was a strong possibility that Primrose’s rebirth had made her fate with Edmund harder to read, especially since she had altered so many threads of destiny in this current timeline.

"However, there’s one thing I can say with confidence," Raven said firmly. "Your strings of fate are still tied to each other. Even if the future looks uncertain, that bond hasn’t broken. That’s why, Your Majesty, you don’t need to worry too much."

Primrose felt something heavy slowly lift off her chest. She could finally breathe a little easier. But just as that feeling came, another worry took its place.

"What if one of us dies?" she asked quietly. "Would our strings of fate still remain connected?"

"It depends," Raven answered carefully. "Some souls aren’t meant to find each other again in another life. But others ... some are destined to meet, no matter what."

She looked Primrose in the eyes and said, "In your case, it’s very likely that you two would meet again, even in another life, because you’re his mate."

The very idea of being mates already meant they were fated to be together, and ever since Edmund had marked her, that bond had only grown stronger.

But that wasn’t what Primrose was really worried about.

"So you’re saying ... even after I died, you could still see Edmund’s string of fate connected to my soul in the afterlife?" she asked, her voice soft and a little shaky.

Raven paused for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. Even after your soul left this world, his string stayed tied to you. Because he’s your fated mate, he never lets you go."

Primrose’s expression grew serious. "Then ... is there a chance that when you saw our strings of fate, I was already dead at the time?"

Raven blinked in disbelief. "Your Majesty, you’re such an overthinker, aren’t you?"

Primrose didn’t smile. "That’s a serious question, Lady Raven."

Raven let out a long sigh, then gave her a look filled with gentle exasperation. "No. You weren’t dead when I saw it. You were very much alive. My vision may have been blurry, but I could still see that clearly."

Primrose let out a long breath. Lately, it felt like Edmund’s habit of overthinking had rubbed off on her too. Now, she couldn’t stop her mind from jumping to the worst-case scenarios.

"Is there any way you could make your vision about our future ... clearer?" she asked, a little hesitantly.

Raven stared at her, deadpan. "You do realize I’m not some divine being, right?"

Then, more seriously, she added, "Your destiny is completely tangled because of your rebirth. So even if I performed a ritual, the chances of seeing a clearer vision are very low. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. The answer is no."

Primrose let out a soft sigh, disappointment flickering across her expression. "I see ..."

She lowered her gaze for a moment, then hesitated before speaking again. "Then ... if the future is too unclear to see, could you show me the past instead?"

Raven lifted an eyebrow. "The past? Haven’t you already lived through it?"

"I mean ... the part after I died," Primrose replied softly. "I want to see how my husband lived after that. But this time, I want to see it with my own eyes. Is that even possible?"

If Primrose truly wanted to open her heart to Edmund, she first had to face something that had haunted her for a long time: she needed to see his pain for herself, not just hear about it through Raven’s words.

She wanted to witness his sorrow, to feel the storm of regret and guilt that had eaten away at him when he realized just how cold he had been to the wife who had silently suffered by his side.

She needed to confront all of it, so she could prepare herself for the sadness and guilt that might rise again when she told him the truth now.

Maybe, if she saw it with her own eyes, she could find the courage to speak honestly, without hesitation, and stop hiding behind fear.

Of course, part of her felt it was selfish or cruel, even. Like she was using her husband’s grief from the past life as a lesson to strengthen herself.

But she couldn’t think of any other way to prepare her heart for the moment she’d have to witness Edmund’s pain in this lifetime.

"Your Majesty, it’s not a matter of whether it’s possible or not," Raven replied carefully. "It’s more about whether you should. The only thing waiting for you there ... is pain."