The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me? Chapter 438: Paying With Cakes and Pastries

While she was lost in thought, Talia suddenly rushed around, grabbing a mountain of cakes and pastries, stuffing them into a big woven basket. Then she handed it to Primrose with both hands.

"I don’t know how else to repay you, but please take these cakes and cookies," Talia said with a warm smile.

Primrose looked down at the basket, and imdiately thought, ’These cakes and cookies are definitely not "a little"! They could feed a whole village!’

Even though she felt it was a bit too much, Primrose still accepted the gift with a happy heart. After all, if she turned it down, Talia would probably send it straight to the Duke’s manor anyway.

After making sure Talia was alright and giving her a few gold coins, Primrose and Edmund finally left the bakery.

"I didn’t even get to eat my cake peacefully, but at least we got sothing even better," Primrose said cheerfully, skipping a little as she walked. Edmund followed beside her, holding the big woven basket in one hand.

At the very least, the cakes and pastries were enough to help Primrose forget—just for a mont—about what Lazarus had gone through in the past.

They then returned to the auction house to pay and pick up the items they had won.

The event was still going on, and Primrose could hear people shouting prices and even insulting each other simply because they couldn’t get the items they wanted.

Even so, Edmund and Primrose were allowed to pick up their things early since they were privileged guests.

"Your father just arrived at the auction house a mont ago, My La—Your Majesty," said Mr. Gregory, one of the auction staff. He had worked there for so many years—ever since Primrose was only ten—that he knew her and her father very well.

"You can just call normally if you’re not used to it yet." Primrose smiled kindly. "I’m not that strict."

Most people in Illvaris always used honorifics like "My Lady this" and "My Lady that," so now that her title had suddenly changed, it was natural for them to struggle a little.

Usually, most nobles never wanted to be addressed by their old honorific once they climbed in rank. Honestly, that was understandable, since an honorific was important to distinguish a person’s status

However, Primrose didn’t really care much about that. As long as they weren’t in a formal event where the correct title was required, she wasn’t too strict about it.

Besides, it wasn’t as if they would suddenly call her by her na so casually.

"Thank you for being so understanding, Your Majesty," Mr. Gregory said. "But I will make sure to get used to it, so I won’t accidentally call you the wrong title."

As a staff mber of the auction house, Gregory had t many nobles, and most of them were difficult to please. Therefore, once he t nobles who treated others like actual human beings—such as the Duke of Illvaris and his daughter—he didn’t want to disrespect them by addressing them incorrectly.

"As you know, Your Majesty, we also provide protection services to escort you safely ho," Mr. Gregory added. "Recently, there have been many bandits around this area, so they might target people who just ca out of the auction house."

"We’re fine," Edmund replied politely. "My soldiers will escort us."

There were only two Noctvaris soldiers visible near the carriage, but many more soldiers were watching them from the shadows.

Even so, Edmund alone was more than enough to kick any bandits out of their way.

[I would normally think that a noble who brings only a few guards is dumb, especially after buying items for such high prices, but this man... he isn’t an ordinary noble.]

Mr. Gregory thought to himself. [Yeah, I don’t even think the bandits would dare show their faces in front of the mighty Beast King.]

They actually did, and because of that, they would have to stop committing cris for eternity, because... they would be sentenced to death afterward.

"You can send the bill to my father," Primrose said with a smile. "He will be the one to pay since we didn’t bring much money with us."

Actually, it wasn’t sothing very important to say, but it was also a bit necessary. Primrose simply didn’t want anyone to think her husband was pretending to be rich while secretly relying on her father’s money.

Good thing Mr. Gregory didn’t think anything bad after hearing it. He simply smiled at them and said, "I understand, Your Majesty."

He then placed the music box and the perfu into a wooden box, wrapped it with a special fireproof cloth, and handed it to them. "Here are your auction items, Your Majesties." He added, "Thank you for trusting our auction house with your money."

Edmund took the wooden box, and after Primrose said her goodbyes, they returned to their carriage.

"You don’t want to wait for your father?" Edmund asked.

Even though Primrose wanted to see her father right away after hearing about the terrible things that happened to him in the past, she didn’t want to go back inside the auction house. Hearing so many thoughts at once would make her head throb again.

The potion Salem gave her was very helpful, but she needed to drink it constantly if she wanted to stay in a crowded place for a long ti.

"He will probably spend ti with the other nobles after this, so we might not get any rest before dinner." Primrose leaned her back against the carriage seat. "I’m tired."

"Do you want to kiss you?" Edmund asked.

Primrose imdiately straightened her back and nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

He leaned forward to give her a deep kiss and let his saliva flow into her mouth. The carriage slowly began to move, and Edmund still planted several small kisses on her lips.

"Husband, it’s still dayti," Primrose reminded him. "Don’t do anything naughty."

[It’s not like we can do anything naughty at night either,] Edmund said in his mind. [There are so many things to do and so many people around us.]

Primrose almost laughed because her husband truly looked a bit stressed after interacting with so many new people for the past few days.

But it was understandable, considering he didn’t really like socializing, and he had to listen to so many insults around him.

Primrose lightly patted his cheeks. "Maybe we can do it once tonight," she said suddenly. "And I will make sure our bedroom door is locked."

There were still a few things Primrose needed to do after this, like having dinner with her father and eting Nina, but since all she had to do was sit and talk, she probably wouldn’t feel too tired tonight.

"It’s alright." Edmund let out a soft sigh. "It’s not like I’m going to die just because we don’t have sex. If you’re tired tonight, don’t force yourself to stay awake."

He might not die, but the frustration on his face was already more than enough to make Primrose stifle a laugh.

She leaned closer and whispered, "I’ll make ti for you. I promise." She added, "Besides, I also want it."

Before Edmund could say anything, Primrose picked up the wooden box that contained the music box first. "Why did you want this thing?" she asked. "It doesn’t even look nice."

All this ti, she had held herself back from asking because she wanted to see the music box up close first. However, after examining it, she beca even more certain that this wasn’t an item worth one million gold coins.

More than that, Edmund wasn’t a collector of ancient items, so Primrose couldn’t understand why he wanted it so badly.

"I actually wanted this music box too, but that’s because I want to keep Lady Nina with for a while," Primrose admitted. "But I didn’t expect you to want it."

"I just... want it," Edmund said quietly. He kept staring at the music box for so long, as if his eyes were glued to it. "But... I’m not really sure why either."

Primrose raised a brow. "Then I guess it’s like wanting to buy sothing just because it looks cute."

The difference was... Primrose would never spend one million gold coins on sothing useless! Damn it, even if the money wasn’t hers, it still hurt her heart!

After all, people always said: a husband’s money is the wife’s money, but the wife’s money is not the husband’s money.

"Oh, there’s a key," Primrose said as she picked up the tiny key usually used to wind a music box. "Maybe it still works."

Honestly, she doubted it. The music box looked so old and fragile that she was afraid it would crumble the mont she tried to insert the key.

She had to be extrely careful while winding the key. The mont she released her hand, the music box moved slowly and stiffly, as if it was trying to shake off years of dust before working properly.

Then, after a short mont, the music finally began to play, and Primrose swore on any God she could na, it was beautiful. Even more beautiful than any orchestra she had ever heard in her life.