The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me? Chapter 337: The Queen’s Sweet Action (I)

Knock. Knock.

Lorelle lifted her head, her brows knitting together. Soone was tapping on her window, and she could only guess which of her botherso brothers had co to disturb her this ti.

Her lips parted, ready to snap, when suddenly a bunch of colorful flowers slid into view from the side of the window. They swayed gently, as if the unseen visitor was waving at her through the blossoms.

Lorelle blinked, caught off guard. Her anger slipped away for a mont, replaced by confusion. Slowly, she pushed the window open, wondering who in the world had decided to act this sweet because as far as she could rember, neither of her brothers had ever done anything so thoughtful.

When she turned to the side, she saw Primrose standing by the window, one hand holding a bunch of flowers and the other carrying a basket full of cookies.

"Good evening, Lady Lorelle," Primrose greeted softly, her golden eyes warm as she peeked out from behind the flowers with a faint, almost shy smile. "I thought you might enjoy a little company, the kind that looks ... far less annoying."

Lorelle arched a brow, her lips parting as if ready to say sothing an. But the sight of the flowers and the faint, almost awkward smile on Primrose’s face made her hesitate.

"Hmph." She crossed her arms, though her voice lacked its usual bitterness. "So they sent you as a peace offering, did they? My brothers must be truly desperate."

Primrose tilted her head, her smile growing just a little wider. "No one sent . I ca because I wanted to." She lifted the bouquet closer, her tone softening. "And because I’d like to know you better."

Lorelle blinked, then cleared her throat, trying to brush off the strange warmth stirring in her chest. After a mont’s hesitation, she finally reached out and accepted the flowers.

"I’m just your husband’s dying sister," she muttered. "There’s nothing more you need to know about ."

"Oh, so you do recognize ," Primrose said, leaning lightly on the window fra. "I thought you hadn’t noticed earlier."

How am I supposed to stay mad at her when she looks this adorable, bringing flowers and cookies of all things?] Lorelle sighed inwardly. [Why am I always so weak around beautiful won?]

"Of course I recognize you," Lorelle said aloud. "Edmund has written so many letters about you. Crimson hair, golden eyes, a beautiful face ... I knew it was you the mont I saw you."

Primrose’s cheeks burned when she realized that even in his letters, her husband couldn’t stop praising her beauty.

"He’s ... just exaggerating." Primrose let out a small, awkward chuckle before adding, "But still ... I want to know you better. You’re not just my husband’s sister, you’re Lorelle. I want to know Lady Lorelle, and maybe even be your friend."

"Friend?" Lorelle tilted her head, her tone laced with quiet irony. "My dear, I’m afraid my ti is drawing near. That’s why I don’t suggest you make friends with soone who’s dying."

[She’ll only end up sad when I’m gone,] Lorelle thought bitterly. [Even Leofric and Edmund hardly co near anymore. They keep their distance so they won’t have to grieve so much when I finally die.]

That was what Lorelle believed about her brothers. No wonder she grew irritated whenever she saw them.

In the end, their fights were nothing more than miscommunication, sothing that sounded trivial, yet carried consequences far heavier than a disaster.

"Oh, don’t say that." Primrose’s eyes softened with compassion. "Everyone deserves company. Yes, people will be sad when we die, but at least ... they’ll know you didn’t die alone."

Primrose knew that pain all too well. Her last monts in her previous life had been spent surrounded by Dr. Silas and a handful of physicians. But none of them had been family, none had been true friends, especially not Silas.

If she could have chosen, she would have wanted her father beside her. Lazarus would have been devastated to see his daughter die before him, but at least he would have known she hadn’t faced the end in loneliness.

Instead, the cruel truth was that when Primrose’s life ended, her father hadn’t even been there to hold her hand.

"That’s a strange way to comfort , Your Majesty," Lorelle murmured at last, though her voice carried no bitterness.

Primrose let out a gentle laugh. "Please, just call Rosie," she said warmly. "If you’re my husband’s sister, then that makes you my family too."

"Rosie?" Lorelle repeated, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "That’s a sweet nickna. Then ... you can call by my na as well."

"Alright, Lorelle!" Primrose smiled brightly, leaning a little more against the window fra. Her feet felt a bit itchy from standing in the grass, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand there.

"Would you mind if I ca into your room? We could eat the cookies together," she asked hopefully.

[She could just climb through the window if she wanted, yet she still bothers to ask,] Lorelle laughed inwardly. [She really is adorable.]

Back then, Primrose used to feel a little annoyed whenever she heard people call her "cute" or "adorable" in their minds every ti they looked at her. But after hearing those words countless tis, she had decided to simply ignore them.

"Yes," Lorelle replied with a faint smile. "But use the door. I’d rather not see your dress ruined from crawling through the window."

Primrose nodded eagerly. She passed the basket of cookies into Lorelle’s hands before heading around to enter the room properly through the door.

anwhile, Edmund and Leofric both exchanged a look, their eyes twitching in disbelief. Lorelle, who usually snapped and shouted at them for the smallest things, hadn’t even raised her voice once while speaking with Primrose.

"Are we ... really that annoying?" Edmund asked, frowning. "I barely even speak to her."

Leofric dragged a hand down his face and muttered, "Maybe that’s exactly why the problem." He added, "She thinks we don’t care. We barely talk to her at all."