The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me? Chapter 134: My Husband Is Handsome!

"That way, I won’t have to wait for you to co out, and you won’t have to wait in the cold."

Edmund was too stunned to respond. He hadn’t expected his wife to offer to let him wait in her bedroom while she got dressed next ti.

That ant ... he wouldn’t have to secretly watch her through Bunnie’s eyes, right?

"I ... I’ll do that next ti, my wife," he said, clearing his throat and quickly opening the carriage door for her. "How about we leave now, before the sun cos up?"

Primrose nodded and took his hand as he helped her into the carriage. He climbed in after her, and she leaned slightly toward the window to watch the others.

Outside, Salem and the soldiers were mounting their horses, getting ready to ride ahead of them.

Actually, a while ago, Silas had also offered to accompany her to Moonshadow City, saying he could assist with her health during the journey.

However, Primrose politely turned him down, saying that Salem had enough basic dical knowledge, and that was more than enough.

Like hell she’d bring that walking disaster along on what was basically her honeymoon.

"Is the carriage comfortable enough for you, wife?" Edmund asked nervously.

He had made special arrangents, asking the soldiers to replace the seats with sothing softer, and even instructing the maids to fill the space with as many cushions as possible.

But ... maybe they overdid it.

Primrose could barely find space to sit, surrounded by pillows, while Edmund’s side of the carriage was completely plain.

There was not a single pillow near him.

"This is more than enough," she said with a smile, picking up one of her many pillows.

She held it out to him. "Here, do you want one for your back? It might hurt if you lean against that hard wall for too long."

Edmund gently shook his head. "No, I’m fine. These are ant for you."

But Primrose had a small mountain of pillows beside her. Giving him one wouldn’t make her the least bit uncomfortable.

"Please, just take one," she said, her voice turning gentle. "I’ll feel uncomfortable if you look uncomfortable."

Fortunately, her words touched his heart.

After a mont, he took the pillow with reluctance and placed it behind his back. "Alright ... just one."

Primrose’s smile grew brighter. She leaned into her cushions and turned her eyes toward him again.

Even though lycans were known for their incredible stamina, she could still see the faint shadows under his eyes, proof he hadn’t been sleeping well.

The thought made Primrose feel an ache in her chest. She hadn’t realized just how hard he’d been pushing himself.

[Is sothing wrong with my face?] Edmund panicked internally as he noticed her staring at him for too long.

[Do I look that bad? I should’ve fixed my hair. Does she feel embarrassed having to sit next to like this?]

Primrose frowned slightly. Why did he always talk down about himself?

If he truly believed he was ugly, then half the n in the world were dood.

How could he even think that way?

Just look at him! Who in their right mind would look at Edmund and say he wasn’t handso?

He hadn’t even combed his hair, letting the strands fall over his forehead, and sohow, he looked even hotter than usual.

’How does that even make sense?!’ she thought.

Maybe his low self-esteem was part of why he struggled to communicate his feelings sotis.

Primrose made a ntal note: She needed to build up his confidence.

Just enough so he could stand beside her without thinking he was the "ugly one."

Because to her, he was anything but that.

"Husband," Primrose called softly once the carriage began to move.

Her golden eyes glead in the dim light, almost as if they were glowing on their own. "I’ve been thinking about how you look today."

Edmund stiffened in his seat. "Is sothing wrong with ?"

[My face must look awful,] he panicked. [I forgot to shave this morning.]

[Maybe it’s my clothes. I shouldn’t have worn black, she probably doesn’t like such dull colors.]

Primrose took a deep breath and replied, "No. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you."

She lowered her voice, almost like a secret just for him. "Actually ... I think you look really handso today."

Edmund froze. His brain spiraled into chaos. [WHAT?! Handso? Where? How?!]

Primrose wanted to ask the sa thing, where was this so-called "ugliness" he always talked about? Because as far as she could see, there was none.

"I ... I’m not," Edmund muttered, turning his head away from her intense gaze. "You’ve probably seen many handso n in your holand. I can’t compare to them."

"Yes, they’re handso," Primrose said, leaning in closer. "But my husband is more handso than any of them."

[Is my wife sick today?] Edmund thought in a panic. [Is her vision blurry or sothing?]

[I should’ve brought Doctor Silas with us.]

How dare he bla her eyesight! Her vision was perfectly fine!

"You don’t need to force yourself to say nice things, my wife," he said gently. "I know I’m not exactly easy on the eyes."

What was wrong with this man?!

Who on earth had damaged his self-esteem this badly?

Primrose reached out and cupped his face with both hands, gently turning him to face her.

"If you think you’re ugly," she said, "then that must an I’m ugly too."

Edmund’s eyes widened. "How could you say that?! You’re ... you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen."

"I know," she said confidently.

Edmund blinked, stunned by her honesty. She looked so sure of herself, not a single trace of doubt in her tone.

"I know how to recognize sothing beautiful," she continued. "I love beautiful things, like flowers in the greenhouse, the ring you gave ... I wouldn’t call them beautiful if I didn’t an it."

She smiled softly, her eyes never leaving his. "And just like all of those things, I think you are stunning too.

"You’re the most handso man I’ve ever seen, Edmund."

Edmund whispered, "But ... I’m a beast."

Primrose tilted her head. "What’s wrong with being a beast?" she continued, "Beauty is subjective. Anything can be beautiful, depending on the eyes that see it.

"Even a rock can be precious to soone who understands its value."

Then she slowly released his face, her hands sliding down to gently hold his. "And besides, your appearance isn’t the only thing I find handso," she said warmly.

"Your kindness, your patience, your gentleness, those shine even brighter than your looks."

People’s appearances might change over ti, but their hearts wouldn’t, as long as they weren’t rotten to begin with.

In her first life, Primrose used to think she loved Edmund because of his handso face, but that wasn’t enough to truly win her heart.

His good looks never made her feel safe or seen.

She only started to believe in him, to open up to him, once she felt the warmth and gentleness that lived behind his cold eyes.

That was what made her fall for him in this life.

"So, husband," Primrose continued gently, "You shouldn’t keep putting yourself down, because to , you’re more handso than any man I’ve ever t."

Edmund gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his gaze shifting away from hers.

[My wife said I’m handso ...]

[She complinted before, but I thought she was just being polite.]

[Was she ... serious about it? Did she really an it?]

"Wife ... I ... I do appreciate your words," Edmund murmured, "But I’m sure there are plenty of n you’d find more attractive than ."

"Who cares about them?" Primrose said firmly. "Maybe there are n more handso than you, but I don’t care."

"I married you, so you are the only man I care about."

She moved from her seat and sat down beside him without hesitation.

"And that’s why," she said, locking eyes with him, "you need to believe . If I say you’re handso ... then you are handso."

Edmund blinked, startled. "Wife, you’re supposed to sit over there. That seat is more comfortable for you."

Primrose slipped her arms around his and leaned against him. "But I want to sit beside my handso husband."

Edmund swallowed hard. Her words made his heart pound and his face flush. He looked away quickly, not knowing what to do with himself.

"But ... this seat is harder than yours," he mumbled.

"Then how about this ..." Primrose shifted again, this ti climbing onto his lap.

Now Edmund was really caught off guard.

"My husband’s lap," she said with a soft smile, "is more comfortable than any of those pillows."

"Primrose," Edmund said her na softly, almost breathless. "What are you doing?"

Primrose furrowed her brow. "We haven’t really seen each other for a week. I thought ... maybe you wanted to be close to for a bit?"

She felt a flicker of disappointnt when he didn’t respond right away, and was about to move back to her seat when suddenly, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her still.

"I do want to be close to you," Edmund said in a quieter tone. "But ... won’t you get uncomfortable sitting like this the whole ride?"