The Mind-Reading Mate Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me novel Chapter 83

Chapter 83: The Queen Needs a Nap, Not a Doctor

Primrose walked toward her chamber in a daze. She had to lean against the palace walls just to stay upright because her head throbbed painfully after staring at endless rows of numbers for what felt like forever.

"Your Majesty, are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?" Solene gently wrapped her arm around Primrose’s, helping her walk.

[What in the world did that awful advisor do to Her Majesty?]

[He didn’t need to be that harsh!]

[If I see him later, I swear I’ll make him eat something so spicy, he’ll be stuck in the bathroom for a whole day!]

Oh? So the royal advisor couldn’t handle spicy food? Primrose made a mental note of that.

"I’m fine," she mumbled, waving her hand weakly. "I just need to sleep. Please tell His Majesty I’m skipping dinner tonight. I’m going to bed early."

Solene looked even more worried. "Are you sure, Your Majesty? Your last meal was at noon, so you will get hungry later. I could ask the maids to bring something light to your room—"

Primrose shook her head before she could even finish. "I really don’t think I can eat right now."

Those numbers had made her feel so sick and full, it was as if her brain had been force-fed math until it wanted to throw up.

She didn’t even have the energy to lift a spoon, let alone actually eat.

"I’ll eat tomorrow morning," she muttered.

When they reached the door to her chamber, Primrose turned to Solene and gently stopped her from entering. "You can go now. I just want to sleep."

Solene tilted her head, hesitant. "But, Your Majesty ... shouldn’t you change into your night—"

Before she could finish, Primrose had already closed the door with a loud thud.

She was done.

With people.

With numbers.

With everything.

She just needed sleep. That was all. A little rest to recharge her energy!

Primrose quickly slipped off her shoes and, without even thinking about changing out of her dress, climbed straight onto the bed. She let her body sink deep into the soft mattress and didn’t care one bit about the tight corset still hugging her ribs.

’Maybe I’ll nap for an hour,’ she thought. ’Then I’ll ask the maids to help me change so I can sleep properly later.’

At least ... that was the plan.

She had only closed her eyes for what felt like ten minutes when the door suddenly burst open with a loud bang.

"Wife! Lady Solene told me you’re sick!"

Edmund’s face darkened as he looked at Primrose, who was lying face-down on the bed, still in her day dress, one leg dangling off the edge because she was too lazy to move properly.

To him, she looked like someone on the verge of death.

[Is my wife dying from overwork?!]

Dying from overwork?! Please.

Primrose hadn’t even touched real royal duties yet because Sevrin still thought she was far from ready for the real stuff.

If she really ended up dying just from handling a few practice reports, then honestly, she deserved a slap from a demon in hell when she got there.

Primrose didn’t say a word, not because she couldn’t, but because she was just too tired to deal with Edmund’s overthinking. So, of course, he panicked.

Suddenly, he reached for her and sat her upright on the bed.

Primrose gasped, startled. She nearly slapped him out of instinct because he had disturbed her sacred nap.

However, before she could even complain, he placed his hand gently on her forehead, checking her temperature. His brows furrowed.

Her skin was a little warm.

No, it wasn’t a fever. She was just overheated from thinking too hard today.

That’s what happened when someone who was used to sleeping all day had to deal with endless rows of numbers for the first time.

[I let her meet the royal advisor once and she’s already burning up like this?!]

[That bastard ... I know he enjoys yelling at incompetent people like me, but my wife is not one of them! How dare he scold her until she gets sick?!]

Was she really competent? Or was that just his imagination? Because based on today’s results ... it could go either way.

"I’m fine, Your Majesty," Primrose said calmly, reaching up to lower his hand from her forehead. She clenched her jaw slightly, but the irritation on her face was hard to hide.

Luckily, Edmund was too dumb to notice her irritation.

[Why is my wife scrunching her forehead like that? Does her head feel like it’s about to explode?!]

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