CHAPTER 271: THE RAIN THAT HID HIS TEARS

Four hours had passed, and Edmund was still begging his wife to open her eyes. However, the only answer he got was silence, a cold, heavy silence that drained all the strength from his body, leaving him too weak to even stand.

Fortunately, time inside a memory moved faster than it did in the real world. Otherwise, Primrose would’ve had to watch him kneel by her bed for hours on end.

"I don’t think you should keep going, Your Majesty," Raven’s voice echoed inside Primrose’s mind. "It would be worse if you got trapped in these painful memories."

Primrose clenched her fists tightly. "I can still go on," she whispered back.

She knew Raven wanted to pull her out, probably even considered doing it by force. But in the end, she chose to respect Primrose’s decision.

"Alright," Raven said. "I should also warn you, the memories might jump around because I couldn’t retrieve clear images of everything from the past."

Primrose merely nodded in response, her attention still fixed on Edmund.

He wasn’t crying, not a single tear fell from his eyes. But that didn’t make things any better.

The way he looked at her lifeless body was so tender, filled with regret, grief, and sorrow. His hand still held his wife’s, yet he never gripped it too tightly, nor did he dare to touch any other part of her body.

Even after her death, he still felt unworthy of touching her, not even in the slightest.

Primrose felt her chest tighten painfully at the sight. But as if the universe wanted to torment her further, the memory suddenly shifted to a different moment.

It wasn’t just any moment, it was the moment when the beasts finally placed her coffin into the grave.

Faintly, she could hear some soldiers and maids whispering to each other from a distance.

"This is the first time I’ve seen someone get buried," one maid said. "We usually cremate the dead, and for royalties, their ashes are scattered into the sea."

A soldier replied, "The royal advisors were actually against it, but His Majesty threw a table at them when they tried to cremate the Queen’s body."

"I saw it too," another maid added. "He said he didn’t want his wife to feel the pain of burning. Isn’t that strange? She was already dead. How could she feel anything?"

The others were visibly surprised by that, as most of them truly believed that the Lycan King hated his wife so much that he couldn’t even stand the sight of her.

Their voices slowly faded into the background as Primrose looked back at Edmund. He had bowed his head low in front of her grave, watching the soldiers cover her coffin with soil.

"Maybe it would’ve been better if you cremated me," Primrose murmured, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. "That way, you could’ve taken my ashes with you wherever you went."

Her family preferred burying the dead rather than cremating them, but sometimes, Primrose thought cremation was more practical.

At least then, the dead wouldn’t be left alone in a cold grave. Their family could keep them close, even take them home. Some people even placed ashes in necklaces or other jewelry, so they could carry their loved ones everywhere.

"But I know you wouldn’t be able to do that," Primrose continued. "Even the version of you in my timeline ... he wouldn’t let my body be burned either."

"But husband ..." Primrose paused for a moment before continuing, "If burning me means I can stay by your side forever ... then I’m willing. Once I die, I’ll let the flames take me."

Unfortunately, the Edmund beside her couldn’t hear a word she said.

The only thing he knew was that his wife had died with hatred in her heart.

The only thing he knew was that he had failed to be her husband.

Primrose reached out, wanting to touch his hand, but then Raven’s voice warned her again, "Don’t touch anything, Your Majesty. You might damage this space."

Her hand hovered in the air above his, trembling for a moment, then slowly pulled back.

In the end, the only thing Primrose could do was stand beside him, accompanying him as if she were a ghost.

People slowly began to leave her grave one by one, but Edmund remained still, not moving an inch, like a statue rooted to the ground.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t cry. He didn’t even show his sorrow openly.

Yet anyone who saw a husband standing that long in front of his wife’s grave would instantly understand that he loved her dearly and was deeply broken by her death.

"Didn’t you say you saw my husband cry?" Primrose asked Raven.

"I did," Raven replied. "You’ll see it for yourself soon."

But when Primrose looked at Edmund now, his expression was completely blank. His eyes looked hollow, like all the light had gone out. He seemed so numb that Primrose wasn’t even sure he could cry anymore.

Moments later, she noticed a drop of water falling near her feet. When she looked up, light rain had started to fall, slowly turning into a heavy downpour that drenched Edmund from head to toe.

But that wasn’t what caught Primrose’s attention.

Through the heavy rain, she saw tears falling from Edmund’s eyes, and to her surprise, he showed something far deeper than just tears.

He covered half of his face with a trembling hand, his brows furrowing as sorrow twisted across his features. His body shook, not from the cold rain, but from everything he had bottled up inside.

He wasn’t just crying, he was mourning her.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, voice cracking. "I’m sorry, my wife. I failed you ..."

"I wanted to be a good husband, I really did. But how could I ..." His words caught in his throat as a choked sob escaped him. "How could a monster like me ever deserve someone like you?"

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." Edmund dropped to his knees, crawling toward her gravestone.

He clung to it like his life depended on it, as if letting go would send him spiraling into the darkest pit of despair.

"I ... I’m sorry for making you suffer," he said shakily. "I shouldn’t ... I shouldn’t have asked you to be my bride in the first place."

[I should have just rejected our bond,] he thought silently. [But I was afraid that rejecting it would hurt her.]

The more he tried to protect her from pain, the more he ended up causing it.

And now, he finally realized how badly he had neglected her for so long, how he had made her feel like she was trapped in hell.

But it was too late to realize it now.

He was too late to understand her. He was too late to fix their marriage.

She had been a healthy, lively woman before marrying him. But after three years of living in Noctvaris, she frequently got sick and eventually died because of an illness.

No matter how he looked at it, Edmund could only believe that Primrose had suffered in the palace.

Even though she actually died from poison, not from the stress of being ignored for so long.

Yes, she had fallen into depression. But if Silas hadn’t poisoned her, maybe she’d still be alive.

"It was also my fault," Primrose whispered, kneeling beside him. She looked at him gently from the side, her voice trembling. "Back then ... I always thought you were cruel and scary. That’s why I was too afraid to talk to you, or to even be near you."

"It was just ... a misunderstanding." She lowered her gaze to the muddy ground, staring at the dirt that stained his shoes. "A terrible, heartbreaking misunderstanding."

There had been so many misunderstandings between them, so many that they couldn’t even begin to fix them.

And worst of all, neither of them ever tried to communicate, too caught up in their own assumptions.

In the end, both of them had made mistakes.

But Edmund likely felt more responsible because he was the one who brought her into his life, into this home, this world.

He was also older than her, and he should’ve known better. But age didn’t matter much when someone never learned how to love.

Edmund had grown up in a place where strength meant everything, and love was seen as weakness.

He wanted to be a good husband. He truly did, but no one had ever taught him how.

"Edmund, I really wish I had tried harder to understand you back then," Primrose whispered, biting her lower lip, trying hard not to cry. But she was always a crybaby, so of course, the tears came anyway.

"I’m sorry, husband."

Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet began to tremble, making her flinch.

A moment later, Raven shouted in her mind, "Your Majesty! You can’t stay there any longer! Your unstable emotions are starting to disrupt the dimension!"

Primrose wanted to stay with him a little longer, but she had no choice but to listen.

In an instant, she felt her body being pulled away by an invisible force. When she opened her eyes again, she was back in her room.

"Why are you stopping me from seeing my wife?!" Edmund’s voice roared from behind the door. "Move, or I swear I’ll throw you out of this palace myself!"