The Mind-Reading Mate: Why Is the Lycan King So Obsessed With Me?!-Chapter 161: Shopping (I)

Primrose stepped further into the boutique, her eyes scanning the rows of delicate fabrics and neatly displayed gowns.

The boutique carried the soft scent of lavender and fresh linen, a calming fragrance that made the place feel warm and welcoming.

Edmund followed behind her, doing his best not to knock anything over with his broad shoulders.

Truthfully, he looked a little out of place among the sparkling dresses.

Because of that, one of the boutique assistants kindly guided him to sit in the corner of the room, a spot that most men jokingly referred to as the "torture chair."

It earned that name because husbands would often sit there for what felt like forever while their wives tried on dress after dress. Many swore never to come along again because it felt more exhausting than any battle.

Primrose had expected Edmund to grow restless within half an hour, or even sooner.

But to her surprise, he sat there calmly, as still as a statue. If anything, he looked a bit like a mannequin because he didn’t blink or speak much.

It was hard to explain, but he sat quietly, occasionally tapping his fingers on his thigh or glancing around the boutique.

Most of the time, though, he was still and silent, and his thoughts even unusually quiet.

Rather than looking like he was being torture, he seemed at peace.

The only part of him that moved consistently was his gaze.

His icy blue eyes followed Primrose’s every movement, from the moment the assistant took her measurements, to when she browsed through the dresses, to when she stepped into the fitting room.

Even if he didn’t voice a single complaint, he couldn’t help but mentally comment on every dress she tried.

[My wife looks beautiful in that one ... and that one, too.]

[She looks like an angel in that flowy dress.

[Is that one a little dark for her? Hmm ... no, she still looks stunning.]

[She’s always beautiful. Every single dress looks like it was made for her.]

Hearing his constant praise made it harder for Primrose to choose. Every gown suddenly felt perfect, as if it truly belonged to her.

She had never experienced anything like this before.

In the past, it would take her forever to find a dress that made her feel beautiful. And now, because of her husband, every single dress made her feel lovely.

If he kept praising her like that, she might just end up asking him to buy the entire boutique. frёewebnoѵēl.com

"Husband." Primrose stepped toward him wearing the lilac gown she’d been eyeing earlier. The delicate fabric caught the light just right, making her look like she was glowing. "What do you think of this one?"

Even though he’d complimented her endlessly in his thoughts, she still wanted to hear it straight from his lips.

Edmund looked at her carefully from head to toe, his expression serious and focused, like a knight assessing the rarest treasure.

"You look beautiful, my wife," he said softly.

It could’ve sounded like a generic answer, the kind of thing a man said just to speed things up.

But not with Edmund. He didn’t say it to make her stop shopping immediately, he said it because he genuinely meant it.

Because in his eyes, she truly was beautiful.

[This is the ninth dress she’s tried on,] Edmund thought as he watched her. [And somehow, she just keeps getting more beautiful. Should I just buy them all?]

If he actually went through with that, the boutique owner would probably drop to their knees and weep with joy.

As tempting as that idea might sound, Primrose decided she couldn’t let him do something so impulsive.

She didn’t want the people of Noctvaris to start thinking she was a greedy queen, spending the kingdom’s wealth just to look pretty, while others were struggling.

Noctvaris wasn’t a poor land. The beastfolk lived in tight communities, where no one was left to starve.

But still, no matter how strong the community ties were, nothing could truly match the comfort of a noble’s life.

And if word got out that she’d bought dozens of gowns in just a few months, people would probably want to cut her head without a second thought.

"I think I’ll go with this one," Primrose said, smiling sweetly as she leaned closer to him. "But since the tailor needs to adjust the size a bit, the dress won’t be ready until after we’ve returned to the palace."

"Is it alright if I give her the palace address?" she asked softly.

Edmund smiled faintly, almost laughing, like her question was the most innocent thing in the world.

"That’s not a problem, my wife. You can give her the palace address," he replied. "We don’t need to hide our identities all the time."

The only reason they had covered their faces while walking through the city was because Primrose wasn’t quite ready to face the people of Noctvaris yet.

She didn’t want judgment, or whispers. She just wanted a normal day, one small breath of freedom without the pressure of being royalty.

Of course, they’d be recognized eventually, but Primrose wanted to be in a better state of mind when that happened.

Her meeting with the Marquess of Moonshadow had left her mentally exhausted, and on top of that, she was still torn about whether or not to tell Edmund everything.

All of it had overwhelmed her, and the last thing she needed was to act like a perfect queen in front of everyone.

"Do you want any other dresses?" Edmund asked, his hand brushing against hers. When she didn’t answer right away, he added, "You can buy as many as you like."

"One is enough," Primrose said quietly, her voice shrinking with guilt. "I ... don’t want to be seen as a greedy queen."

Edmund pulled her in closer and leaned to her to speak quietly, so only she could hear.

"We can keep this between us," he said. "I’ll ask the boutique owner not to tell anyone we were here. That way, no one will know how many dresses you’ve bought."

It might’ve sounded a little cunning, but it wasn’t like Edmund was stealing from the people to spoil his wife.

The money he used to spoil her came from his own hard work, his own businesses, run under false names and completely separate from public funds.

"What do you think?" he asked softly.

Primrose hesitated for a moment, then slowly raised three fingers. "Then ... can I have three?"