The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me? Chapter 335: A Desperate Gamble (I)

Instead of gaining immortality, her body decayed slowly, and the youthful magic no longer worked on her. Therefore, she now aged like a normal human, and her body grew so weak it seed as if her bones might shatter with a strong gust of wind.

Lorelle, who once desired immortality, now longed for death to co quickly because the pain she felt was too much to endure.

Primrose stayed silent for a mont, processing that information in her head while also wondering if there truly was no way to heal her.

Then, as if sparked by sothing deep in her mory, a thought struck her. She turned to Edmund and asked, "Husband, do you know Lady Naveer? The daughter of the Count of Noirhaven?"

Edmund blinked, puzzled. "I think I’ve heard her na. Why are you suddenly asking about her?"

She glanced briefly at Leofric, realizing that he knew nothing about the fact that she had returned from the future. He might have suspected it, since he was a skilled wizard, but Primrose had no intention of sharing all her secrets with him just yet.

"I ... heard from soone that Lady Naveer studied alchemy related to the soul and also ... healing." Primrose carefully chose her words. "Do you think we could ask her to look at Lady Lorelle’s condition?"

Before Edmund could reply, Leofric suddenly spoke. "I may not return to this kingdom often, but isn’t Lady Naveer widely known as a lunatic?"

Primrose pressed her lips together, rembering all too well the headlines she had seen in the newspapers. Lady Naveer Noirhaven—the eccentric, the mad alchemist, the girl who dabbled too far.

But it wasn’t without reason. People often whispered that her experints were ... questionable. She had carried out research that many called cruel, using rabbits, mice, dogs, or any creature she could get her hands on from the streets.

So even claid she once tested her work on slaves.

So, even though she wasn’t yet recognized as a famous alchemist, she was already infamous as a lunatic. When Primrose had considered sending her a tea invitation back then, she hesitated again and again before finally doing it.

Fortunately, yet unfortunately, Naveer did not accept her invitation. Although Primrose wanted to know her better and thought they might beco close since they were the sa age, she also feared that Naveer might be too eccentric for her.

Unlike Raven, who had at least proven through her actions that she wasn’t evil, Naveer remained a mystery. More than that, there was not a single article or report ever ca to her defense.

Therefore, she suspected that Naveer was just as eccentric as people claid.

Even so, in the future, her discoveries would make her na shine across the continent, reaching far beyond Noctvaris. She would no longer be rembered as the mad girl from Noirhaven, but as the alchemist whose brilliance changed the course of history.

Unlike most alchemists who spent their lives brewing potions or refining substances, Naveer devoted herself to creating artifacts. Her most infamous invention was the soul-weaving device, a tool that could bind a wandering soul into an object.

Dolls that moved on their own, weapons that pulsed with life, even towering golems powered by fragnts of spirits.

At first, people recoiled in fear, calling it unnatural and horrifying. But as ti passed, both the military and even ordinary folk began to see its worth.

Soldiers wielded weapons that never dulled, while grieving families clutched dolls that carried a trace of their loved ones’ essence.

Amongst all of her infamous artifacts, Primrose had also read in the newspapers that she was capable of creating a healing substance for people afflicted by curses or magical deviations.

"Maybe we can’t judge soone only by their cover," Primrose said at last.

Leofric’s brows knit together. "Yes, but even so, I won’t allow a lunatic to lay her hands on my sister so recklessly."

Edmund, however, didn’t dismiss his wife’s words so quickly. He let them linger, weighing them carefully.

Though he hadn’t co from the future as she had, his wolf carried the sa mories as the other Edmund, and those mories whispered that Naveer would one day prove to be soone of great worth.

Perhaps that was why his wife had always wanted to reach out to her and build a bond with the woman everyone else called a lunatic.

Edmund took a deep breath before finally speaking. "If there is even the smallest chance she can help Lorelle, then we should at least hear what she has to say."

Leofric’s eyes narrowed. "Oh, dear. Just because she is your wife doesn’t an you have to follow all of her suggestions," he said coldly. "I know you don’t really care about our sister, but—"

"What?" Edmund cut him off, his voice low and dangerous. "What do you an I don’t care about her? I do. Just because I don’t parade it around doesn’t an my feelings don’t exist."

"Oh, really?" Leofric let out a bitter laugh, more like a blade than amusent. "If you truly cared, you would have been by her side instead of hiding behind coins. What can a sick woman even do with all that money you throw at her?!"

Edmund rose to his feet, anger flashing in his eyes. "At least I still sent her letters, unlike you, who begged for mission after mission outside the kingdom, just so you could run away from your own sister!"

So that was it. That was why Leofric had never once complained when Edmund buried him in endless tasks beyond the borders. It turned out he had asked for them himself.

Leofric’s jaw tightened. "Don’t act like you didn’t gain from that! If it weren’t for , you would’ve been thrown from your throne long ago!"

"Yes, and so what?" Edmund growled through gritted teeth. "It’s not like I ever asked you to secure my throne!"

Leofric’s eyes widened, and the last shred of his sanity suddenly snapped. He grabbed Edmund’s collar, looking as if he wanted to strangle him to death. Unlike before, he no longer seed afraid of him.

At that mont, Primrose even wondered why he had ever looked so terrified of being killed by Edmund, when in truth it seed impossible for her husband to ever kill him.

Perhaps what he truly feared wasn’t death at Edmund’s hands, but the thought of losing their brotherhood if their fights ever went too far.