The Mind-Reading Mate Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me novel Chapter 259

Chapter 259: Playing the Monster

Primrose had spent the whole morning planning exactly what she’d say to Silas, topics that would gently guide his thoughts toward Hazelle’s slave seal’s secret word.

But the moment she sat across from the man, all those carefully prepared strategies suddenly felt hard to put into action.

"Dr. Silas, why did you bring your assistant along?" she asked with a polite smile, her eyes drifting to Hazelle, who stood quietly behind him. "Didn’t I mention that I just wanted to have tea with you this afternoon?"

Silas smiled calmly. "I’m afraid my assistant can’t be left alone for long, Your Majesty. She has ... some mental health concerns."

Mental health concerns, my foot.

He just didn’t want Hazelle to rest, not even for a few minutes. No wonder she always looked so pale and worn out. Even now, when all they were doing was drinking tea, Silas didn’t let her sit down.

"She looks perfectly fine to me," Primrose said, lifting her teacup and glancing at Hazelle again. "Would she throw a tantrum or something if you left her alone?"

Silas chuckled softly. "Oh, nothing like that, Your Majesty. But if she’s away from me too long, she tends to grow anxious. That’s why I hope you’ll understand and allow her to stay here, Your Majesty."

Primrose took a sip of her tea in silence, her eyes still fixed on Hazelle. The only thing that would fill Hazelle’s heart if she were left alone was obviously relief.

The clock was ticking, and Primrose was keeping track of every second Edmund had granted her. If she couldn’t separate Hazelle from Silas, then those precious minutes would be wasted.

She turned her gaze to the soldiers outside. Silas didn’t notice it, but near the greenhouse entrance, there was a small hourglass, placed there specifically to remind her that Edmund wouldn’t give her even a second more than the promised thirty minutes.

With a small sigh, she realized that her usual calm approach wouldn’t work here. She needed to try something else, maybe something bolder.

Within seconds, her expression shifted. The warmth in her gaze faded, replaced by coldness—disgust, even—as she looked directly at Hazelle.

"If I’m being honest," Primrose said as she placed her teacup down with a quiet clink, "I don’t feel comfortable with her here."

Her lips curled into a sneer. "There’s just something about a slave’s presence that makes the air feel ... dirty."

Behind her, she heard Solene quietly gasp, clearly shocked. The sweet and gentle Queen of Noctvaris suddenly sounding so cruel? It was unthinkable.

Even Callen, nearby, seemed to have a full-blown internal panic. [What is going on?! Is this really Her Majesty? No, no, no—she’s never spoken like this before!]

[Is she an impostor?! A spy pretending to be the Queen?!] 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

[What should I do? Should I drag her out of here and interrogate her until she tells me where she’s hiding the real Primrose?!]

Primrose’s lips twitched slightly. She hadn’t expected Callen’s mind to spiral that far just because she said a few harsh words.

Hadn’t she spoken sternly to Marielle once before? Back when she had a fever and snapped at her by mistake?

Had Marielle never told anyone about that? That alone would’ve been enough to stir palace drama. But now Primrose realized she’d never heard a single rumor about her being rude behind closed doors.

Still, even if she had been slightly cold to Marielle that one time, she had never used cruel words like this before. So maybe ... yes, it was a bit shocking to hear her speak so harshly toward a slave like that.

Primrose wasn’t exactly proud of what she was saying, but if this was the only way to get Silas to lower his guard, then so be it. Even if it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Luckily, Solene and Callen didn’t immediately drag her to the torture chamber and force her to confess where she had supposedly hidden the "real" version of herself.

"A slave?" Silas repeated, acting like he had no idea what she was talking about. "I’m not sure what you mean, Your Majesty. Hazelle is my assistant."

Primrose let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come now, Dr. Silas. Don’t try to act clueless in front of me. I can tell the difference between a normal worker and a slave. Whether you know it or not, slaves carry a certain smell, something that reminds me of ... a gutter." She scrunched her nose as if she couldn’t stand the thought. "Honestly, it’s disgusting."

The more she spoke, the worse it sounded. It was so wrong on so many levels that Primrose almost wanted to cut her own tongue off right then and there.

"And I don’t know if it’s just in my head, but I feel like bad luck follows every time they touch me," she added, pretending to shudder in disgust. "Just look at me, Dr. Silas. Ever since your slave helped me take a bath, I suddenly lost the ability to walk. Don’t you think that’s your fault? You let that ... filthy girl lay her hands on me."

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