NOVEL NEXT Chapter 354: The Key Her Mother Left Behind
"It's alright, Father," Edmund answered gently. "You were only trying to make sure your daughter was safe. I understand."
After a moment, Primrose cleared her throat and said, "Actually … there's something we want to talk about with you. That's why Edmund brought you here."
Lazarus raised a brow. "About what?"
Primrose fell silent for a while. She knew that every time her late mother was mentioned, her father's face would be filled with sorrow. That was why she rarely spoke about her mother with him.
"Why don't we talk somewhere more comfortable?" Primrose suggested with a gentle smile. "You're not in a rush to go home today, are you, Father?"
The truth was, Lazarus had already told his assistant that he had business elsewhere and would be returning home late. He even pretended to ride off on horseback, leaving the horse in a safe place before secretly traveling to Noctvaris with Edmund. That way, he could spend more time with his daughter.
"I have time," Lazarus finally admitted.
So they moved to the greenhouse garden, since Primrose desperately needed fresh air, especially after her heart had been torn between joy and worry during her earlier talk with Dr. Celdric.
The moment Lazarus stepped inside, he froze in awe. "This … this place is even more beautiful than the one at our home."
"Yes, Father, it is," Primrose said warmly as she hooked her arm through Edmund's. They walked together toward the table at the center of the greenhouse. "My husband built this place just for me. He's really sweet."
Edmund blinked, caught off guard by her sudden praise. A faint flush touched his ears. "I … I'm not sweet at all."
Primrose leaned closer, her voice dropping to a tender whisper. "Yes, you are, and I love you."
Edmund's lips curved into a small but genuine smile. "I love you more."
Lazarus, walking silently beside them, could only hold his breath. The affection radiating between them was so strong, it was almost overwhelming.
Lazarus finally tore his gaze away, pretending to watch the flowers around them just so he wouldn't have to watch the couple's tender display any longer.
He cleared his throat loudly. "Alright, enough of your lovey-dovey whispers. You'll give this old man cavities if you keep that up."
Primrose laughed softly, squeezing Edmund's arm. "Sorry, Father. We'll behave."
As soon as the maids set down the warm tea and snacks on the table, Primrose finally gathered her courage to speak. "Earlier, we talked with the doctor about my pregnancy …."
She carefully explained to Lazarus everything Dr. Celdric had told them, though she skipped over the embarrassing part about Edmund needing to kiss her at least five times a day to give her his saliva. That was something her father definitely didn't need to know.
On the other side of the table, Lazarus's face darkened almost immediately. He was both shocked and confused. "A seal? Someone dared to place a seal on my daughter?!"
Primrose bit her lip, her voice dropping. "Actually … I think it might have been Mother."
"Your mother? Why would my sweet Iriana ever—" Lazarus stopped mid-sentence, his whole body stiffening as though a forgotten memory had just rushed back to him. His eyes widened. "Wait … are you saying the seal needs a key to be opened?"
Primrose nodded gently. "Yes … that's right." She hesitated, then asked in a soft voice, "Do you know something, Father?"
Lazarus tapped his fingers against the table, his gaze locked on her as if he were searching for the right words. "I'm not completely sure … but before your mother di—" His voice faltered, cracking with emotion. He cleared his throat roughly, forcing himself to continue. "Before your mother passed away … she told me something."
On the brink of death, just moments after giving birth to Primrose, Iriana had slipped her bracelet into Lazarus's hand. With what little strength she had left, she whispered the same words over and over, her fading voice desperate to be heard. "Key … for our daughter."
She begged him to keep it safe, to one day pass it on to their child.
Lazarus hadn't been able to question the reason, because the only thought in his mind at that moment was that his wife was dying.
The moment Primrose heard this, her hand unconsciously moved to her wrist, touching the silver bracelet Lazarus had given her before she left for Noctvaris.
The very same bracelet she had lost in her past life, and the one that had later been found by Callen.
A shiver ran through her. What she had thought was only a keepsake from her parents might have been so much more all along.
"I don't know if it's connected to the seal in your body, but that's the only thing I know, Rosie." Lazarus took her hand, gently brushing his thumb across the back of it. "My sweet child, I'm so sorry for overlooking something this important. I should have called many great doctors to examine your health much earlier."
"Oh, Father …" Primrose's eyes softened, her voice warm and reassuring. "Even Dr. Celdric told me this seal is hidden so deeply that no one could have noticed it. It isn't your fault."
But beyond that, there was something even more shocking to talk about.
The silver bracelet.
Primrose lowered her gaze to her wrist, staring at the piece of jewelry as if it might reveal its secret to her. She turned it slightly, studying every detail, but it looked completely ordinary.
There wasn't the faintest shimmer of magic. Even Leofric had never mentioned it, which could only mean he hadn't sensed anything unusual about it either.
And yet … it felt impossible for something her mother had given with her dying breath to be ordinary.
"But Father, just how powerful was Mother's magic when she was alive?" Primrose asked softly, her voice carrying a weight of longing. "I … I've always wanted to know."
The truth was, this question had haunted her for years. Everyone spoke of her mother's extraordinary magic with awe, yet one thing never made sense to her. If her mother was so powerful, why hadn't she used that strength to save herself after giving birth?
Why would Iriana, a woman gifted with such great magic, die from something as ordinary as childbirth?
Unless … unless Primrose herself had been the cause. Unless she had unknowingly drained her mother's life away, the same way her own child might now be feeding on her strength.