Chapter 332: The Flower That Withered (I)
"I know." Edmund pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Primrose’s head, his voice a low whisper against her hair. "I’m sorry ... I think too much sometimes."
Primrose stroked the hand he had resting on her waist, her touch soft and reassuring. "Don’t be sorry." She looked up at him with a small smile before repeating her question. "So ... you became their sworn brother after Sir Leofric helped you?"
Edmund gave a slow nod. "Yes. He did it to secure my position in the eyes of the elders. But not long after, we chose to leave the magic tower because we were tired ... tired of hearing endless rumors whispered behind our backs."
They had wandered together for nearly three years before Edmund finally chose to part ways. Their paths were simply too different. Edmund sought physical strength, training his body every day, while Leofric and Lorelle buried themselves in their search for new magic.
For Edmund, the need was urgent. He had to grow stronger, stronger than his own wolf, or risk being consumed by it. So they separated, until the day he finally claimed the throne of the Beast King.
Leofric would still come to check on him now and then, but in the end, he chose to stay in Noctvaris. At first, it was to help Edmund tame his wolf for good. And even after they succeeded, he remained there because Lorelle had suddenly fallen gravely ill.
"I know I rarely saw Lady Lorelle, and Leofric was always closer to her," Edmund sighed, the weight heavy in his voice. "But she’s still my sister. I have the right to speak for her too. I begged him to wait a little longer, not to do something reckless that might end her life sooner, but ..."
His lips pressed into a thin line before he muttered, "He told me there’s no point in waiting for a flower that has already withered to bloom again. Tell me, wife ... isn’t that cruel?"
Primrose’s chest ached at the pain in his eyes. She took a moment before answering, not wanting to dismiss his feelings. "There’s nothing wrong with worrying about your sister. After all, it’s very painful to watch someone you love dying in front of you."
She tightened her grip on his hand. "But husband ... sometimes it’s just as painful for the one who is sick to keep fighting in a body that can no longer carry life."
Primrose had never lost a family member to illness, except for her mother, and even then she hadn’t been there to witness it. But she herself had once suffered from a terrible illness in her first life.
She remembered clearly how, day by day, she could feel the strength slipping from her body. Each breath was a battle, each movement a weight too heavy to bear, until even lifting her fingers became impossible.
That memory never left her; it was carved into her heart and sometimes returned in the form of nightmares that woke her trembling in the night.
In some ways, Edmund was lucky because he had only seen her after her death, lying still and lifeless. If he had witnessed her struggling on the edge of life and death, he might not have been able to endure the sight.
Back then, the only thought left in her mind had been a desperate wish for the illness to claim her quickly. Anything was better than drowning in a pain so endless that she could no longer endure it.
So yes, she could understand why Leofric might have wanted to end Lorelle’s suffering as soon as possible because maybe, Lorelle herself had once reached the point when the pain lingering in her body had become too much to bear.
Still, understanding didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t erase the heaviness in her chest, nor the ache in Edmund’s voice when he spoke of his sister. Compassion for Lorelle’s suffering and sympathy for Edmund’s grief pressed against each other in Primrose’s heart, leaving her torn between the two.
She turned to her husband, her voice soft. "But even if it was mercy ... it doesn’t make your pain any less real."
At that moment, Edmund seemed to realize that Primrose had once endured the very same thing his sister was going through. He didn’t try to speak, and he didn’t offer an apology for her past suffering. Instead, he simply pulled her into his arms from behind, holding her so tightly it nearly stole her breath.
But Primrose didn’t mind. In that desperate embrace, she could feel everything he couldn’t put into words, like his sorrow, his guilt, and above all, his need to never let her slip away from him again.
"I’m fine, Edmund," she whispered gently. "I’m really fine."
Edmund gave a silent nod, burying his face against her neck for a brief moment before pulling back and taking hold of Dante’s reins once more.
The rest of the ride passed in quietness, broken only by the sound of hooves against the ground. Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached a secluded clearing.
At the center stood a small wooden cabin, its roof half-hidden beneath the shadows of towering pines. Smoke curled faintly from the chimney, carrying the scent of herbs and firewood.
"That’s her place," Leofric said simply, slowing his horse as they approached.
"Does she live alone?" Primrose asked softly.
Leofric shook his head. "No. I hired two maids and a doctor to stay with her."
Just as he finished speaking, the cabin door creaked open and a middle-aged woman stepped outside. She dipped her head in greeting, a gentle smile on her face that carried both kindness and fatigue.
Primrose noticed right away that Leofric had chosen humans to care for Lorelle. It made sense, since Lorelle herself was human.
"Sir Leofric," the middle-aged woman greeted as soon as they dismounted from their horses. "Welcome home."
[At last, he’s back ...] she spoke in her thoughts. [Lady Lorelle hasn’t stopped calling his name and even threw a tantrum when he didn’t return.]
[Oh, what a headache.]