NOVEL NEXT Chapter 287: The Queen Who Can’t Escape
Back to the main topic, Primrose actually had another theory.
What if the magic he meant was the kind that required a medium to work? Like magic spells, blood, or hair.
Edmund had to use his blood to activate the magic in her ring, so it could fall into the category of magic with a medium, just like the ring he himself wore.
But her mind-reading? It didn't need anything. She didn't need any ritual, any blood, or even a single magic spell.
Yeah, she would stick with that theory for now.
"How did you get in here?" Primrose slowly crawled backward from him, her eyes occasionally flicking toward the library door that seemed to grow farther and farther away.
But even if she reached it, she knew it would be locked, so running toward it would be pointless.
What about Callen? Wouldn't he notice something was wrong? The ambush earlier had been noisy enough that, under normal circumstances, he should have heard it from outside.
But if the magic barrier could also block any sound inside the room from escaping, then it was unlikely Callen would hear any of the commotion in the library.
In other words, it would also be useless for Primrose to try shouting for help.
Maybe … she could jump out the window.
She remembered there was one window in the library with a broken hinge, so it couldn't be fully closed.
The library was on the second floor, but directly beneath the window was a thick bed of flowers. Primrose might break a few bones, but at least she would still be alive.
"Through the door, of course," he finally replied to her.
[I didn't expect that he would actually give me easy access to this place.]
[There were no soldiers at the door, and the librarian was even asleep when I came in.]
[The Lycan King did make me nervous when he stepped into this place. But unexpectedly, the magic stone completely hid my presence, even from the Lycan King himself.]
[He truly is a genius.]
Who the hell was he, really?
Why did the person who had helped this mysterious man sound like someone who knew a lot about the palace, and even knew about Edmund far too well?
It seemed like he was someone from inside the palace, or worse … someone close to Edmund.
"You know… even if my husband can't save me, I still have a guard outside the door," Primrose said, trying to scare him a little bit.
He tilted his head, as if he wanted to mock her. "Then why haven't you screamed for help this whole time? Oh … you must also know that the magic barrier can block any sound from leaving this place, right?"
"Actually … why am I even having a conversation with you in the first place?" he asked himself. "Get out from there now, and maybe I'll give you a painless death."
Primrose's eyes darted toward the slightly open window. Her pulse quickened, and she became so focused that she didn't breathe for several seconds.
If she timed it right, maybe she could make it.
But she'd only have one chance.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table. The man in black was still circling slowly, his footsteps steady and unhurried, like a predator toying with its prey.
She forced herself to keep her gaze low, pretending to cower, while in reality, she was counting the steps between them.
"Come on, Your Majesty," he said. "You don't really think you can survive this, do you? There's no one who can save you right now. Even your guard outside the door is completely useless at this moment."
"Oh, what a poor thing. He'll probably feel guilty when he opens the door and sees that your head has already been separated from your body."
Primrose grimaced silently because she thought being beheaded sounded … horrible. She'd once heard someone say that a person who's been beheaded stays conscious for at least a few seconds before dying.
She had no desire to experience that kind of horror.
"What if," Primrose began, forcing her voice to stay calm, "you used another method to kill me instead?"
The man stopped pacing. She couldn't see his face from under the table, but she could guess he found her amusing.
"Oh?" His tone was laced with interest. "And what method would that be?"
"I'm not sure." Primrose's gaze flicked toward the window as she silently counted the steps she'd need to reach it. "Maybe … you could make me fall asleep first before you sever my head. That way, I won't feel any pain."
The man gave a low chuckle. "You're surprisingly calm for someone about to die."
Primrose forced a shaky laugh. "Well, I just don't want to give you the satisfaction of seeing me distressed."
He tilted his head slightly, as if studying her. "Interesting. Most people beg for their lives by now."
Primrose tightened her grip on the edge of the table, her legs tensing under her skirt. "Guess I'm not most people."
Once the man was at the farthest spot from the window, she suddenly lunged out from under the table, bolting toward it without caring about the pain shooting through her legs.
Who would have thought that someone who was reluctant to learn to walk just a moment ago could suddenly run in under pressure?
She was fast, even faster than she'd thought she could be. The open gap was right there, the cool air brushing her face as her hand reached out for the frame, but before she could touch it, Primrose's eyes went wide as a hand grabbed the back of her collar and pulled her backward with brutal force.
Her body slammed onto the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of her lungs. The floors felt cold and unyielding beneath her as pain shot up her spine.
She gasped, clawing at the floor in an attempt to get away, but the man's grip only tightened.
"Nice try, Your Majesty," he said with a mocking laugh. "But you're not going anywhere."
Primrose gritted her teeth, feeling that she had never once succeeded in escaping from people who wanted to hurt her.
Maybe … she was never meant to run in the first place.
Maybe … she was meant to fight.
As the man raised his sword high, ready to drive its sharp blade into her neck, Primrose opened her eyes wide and spoke in a cold, unwavering voice. "Die."