"That’s so sweet!" Mirelle gasped. She looked at Primrose in disbelief, and in her mind, she was already planning to spread that sweet story to every customer who walked into her shop.
Primrose couldn’t help but smile faintly. "He’s always sweet to me." She tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "At first, I can’t deny that I used to be afraid of him. But after spending so much time together, I realized he’s not scary at all."
"He’s never raised his voice at me and always treats me with such gentleness." Primrose’s smile slowly grew wider.
At this point, she wasn’t sure if she was still pretending to be happy or if maybe she really meant it.
"I’m truly grateful to have a husband like His Majesty." Primrose’s eyes softened, sparkling like someone who was truly in love. "We both have our flaws, but I want to work hard to be the person who can support him and fill in those gaps."
Alright, stop talking.
Primrose started to feel like she wasn’t pretending anymore.
But ... it was so hard to bury her happiness when Edmund had always tried his best to fulfill all her needs and make her happy.
Still, a faint ache lingered in her chest because she couldn’t completely forget how everything between them had ended in tragedy once, in another life.
"That doesn’t sound like His Majesty at all," Arabella muttered, turning her gaze away as if sickened by how Primrose looked like a lovesick bird.
Raven raised an eyebrow and replied, "And what exactly do you know about His Majesty, Lady Arabella? You’ve only met him twice."
Arabella scowled. "At least I’ve spoken to His Majesty before!"
Edmund wasn’t the type to attend social gatherings often. According to Sevrin, he only showed up for events that were truly important, like things that concerned the future of Noctvaris or directly affected him.
Because of that, most nobles had never seen Edmund up close, and even fewer had held a proper conversation with him.
"Really?" Raven sneered. "From what I heard, you were the only one talking during that meeting. His Majesty didn’t even say a single word to you."
"Enough!" Brielle finally stepped in to break up the argument. She even pushed their chairs apart to create some space between them. "Have you both forgotten your manners? We’re sitting in the presence of Her Majesty, and you’re arguing like children."
"But I—"
"Your Grace." Brielle cut her off firmly. Her emerald eyes stared sharply at the Duchess. "Between the two of us, I’ve seen more of His Majesty over the years, and I can tell you this, him treating his wife with kindness is not hard to believe at all."
[That boy always acted harsh and cold toward his soldiers, and at first, I used to doubt if he could be gentle with his wifee,] Brielle thought. [But I once saw him pick up a baby bird that had fallen from its nest and gently place it back.]
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