Chapter 188: The King’s Weakness

Primrose opened her mouth to say something more, but before she could, a voice echoed urgently from the stairwell below.

“Your Majesty! You need to come down here now!” It was Callen, calling urgently from the underground.

Primrose hesitated, then looked back at Solene and whispered, “Take care.”

She didn’t wait another second. She ran down the stairs. Callen reached for her hand and immediately guided her through the dark corridor beneath the inn.

“Sir Callen,” Primrose gasped between breaths, “you look really pale.”

Callen groaned. “His Majesty will have my head if anything happens to you, Your Majesty!”

[This was supposed to be a simple escort for a relaxing trip. How did we end up in a nightmare like this?!]

[Is this because I told the other soldiers earlier that I was bored today?!]

Primrose ignored his internal crisis, then moving her gaze toward Salem, who was standing beside a vertical ladder, not far from them.

He had wrapped himself in a dark cloak and carried a bag on his back. How the hell did he still have time to pack while she hadn’t even managed to put on shoes?

“What a lovely night, Your Majesty,” Salem said calmly. “I’m used to being woken in the middle of the night when you want to see me, but I never thought someone would drag me out of bed because bandits were attacking our inn.”

Primrose narrowed her eyes. “Bandits? Are you saying the ones attacking the inn are bandits?”

Salem shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. But really, who else would be brave enough to attack a place where the King and Queen of Noctvaris are staying, if not a bunch of reckless bandits?”

He had a point.

But something deep in Primrose’s gut told her they weren’t just ordinary bandits.

While she’d been on the spiral staircase, she had caught brief glimpses of their thoughts.

The distance had been too far for her to hear clearly, but even the faint whispers were enough to confirm they weren’t after treasure.

[The Queen … we have to kill her.]

[Kill the King’s weakness …]

Their goal in storming the inn wasn’t to steal or take hostages. They came specifically to find Primrose.

They wanted to kill the Queen of Noctvaris.

“But Your Majesty … do you know someone from the tiger tribe?” Salem suddenly asked, his voice echoing through the empty tunnel.

Primrose looked up and met his eyes before answering, “The Marquess of Moonshadow.”

“That’s right,” Salem replied with a smile, though it wasn’t the kind of smile that came from joy.

On the contrary, it was eerie, the kind of smile a killer might give his prey. “That bastard … even in death, he’s still causing trouble.”

Salem thought, [This is worse than bandits.]

Primrose silently agreed.

A group of bandits could be easily eliminated, but a tribe of enraged beasts with hatred in their hearts? They would never stop until their target was completely gone.

What Primrose didn’t understand was why. Why did the tiger tribe want her dead?

As far as she knew, the Marquess had always denied his origins.

He had even declared he didn’t want to be associated with the tiger tribe anymore, claiming he wanted nothing to do with their barbaric lifestyle.

He had repeated that statement over and over again because he truly didn’t want to be associated with the tiger tribe, who were known for causing trouble.

That’s why it felt strange, almost unbelievable, that they would want revenge on Edmund for the Marquess’s death.

More than that, how did they even know Edmund was the one who led him to his death?

Edmund had told Primrose that he’d assigned several soldiers to keep an eye on the Marquess before his death, making sure the man wouldn’t be able to send letters or contact anyone outside.

He even said he wanted to make sure the Marquess wouldn’t do anything suspicious before taking his own life.

Edmund was a meticulous man.

She believed he wouldn’t overlook something as important as this.

He must’ve searched the Marquess’s room, checked for hidden magic tools, and made sure there was no way he could communicate with anyone.

So then … how?

How in the world did they know that Edmund was the one responsible for the Marquess’s death?

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Your Majesty,” Callen’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “But we need to leave now before they break into the tunnel.”

Primrose froze for a moment. The dread of knowing that a group of tiger beasts was hunting her finally hit her nerves.

She nodded quickly. “Y-You’re right. Let’s get out of here right away.”

Salem climbed the ladder first to open the manhole cover, while Callen stayed close behind Primrose to protect her in case of a sudden attack.

For years, Primrose had spent most of her days indoors. Even when she did some physical activity, the most she ever did was walk.

She had never expected that climbing a vertical ladder would be this exhausting. Her hands even started to hurt from gripping the slightly rusted rungs so tightly.

At that moment, Primrose finally realized she really needed to start working out if she wanted to improve her quality of life in the future.

“Take my hand, Your Majesty.” Salem extended his hand to her and then pulled her up with ease.

She widened her eyes in surprise.

She hadn’t expected Salem, who always looked like he rarely stepped outside during daylight, to be that strong. Even if he was a skunk—no, a honey badger.

Once Primrose was above ground, she glanced around the area.

It turned out they had exited into the forest behind the inn.

Huge, old trees surrounded them, their shadows stretching long and eerie beneath the faint light of the moon.

The moon itself was barely visible, hidden behind thick clouds that cast the entire area in a dim, silvery gloom.

The forest was silent, too silent, and the stillness in the air made every little rustle feel unsettling.

Primrose didn’t like this kind of atmosphere at all.

Because of that, it would’ve been difficult for anyone to spot them.

“Tell me, Sir Callen,” Salem said, turning as he scanned the area, “should we run or hide?”

Callen closed the manhole cover behind them and rolled a large rock over it.

“We’re up against tigers,” he said while brushing the dirt off his hands.

“They can see clearly in the dark. So hiding isn’t an option.”

Ah. That made sense.

Primrose forgot that tigers could see in the dark, just like cats!

If only they were as small as cats too, maybe she wouldn’t be this nervous right now.

“We can run, but …” Salem glanced at Primrose and shook his head, as if silently expressing his disappointment. “Your Majesty, I doubt you can even run faster than a rabbit.”

Primrose frowned. “You’ve never even seen me run!”

Salem immediately placed a finger over her lips. “Shh. Don’t raise your voice. We don’t want to invite the cats right to us.”

Primrose bit her lower lip and forced herself to stay quiet. If a housecat already had sharp hearing, then a tiger or worse, a tiger beast, must have hearing that was even more terrifying.

Some of them might even be able to pick up distant sounds from a shocking distance.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Your Majesty,” Callen said gently. He turned his back to her and crouched down. “I’ll carry you.”

It was a practical solution for someone like her, but … it was also a bit embarrassing.

She had never been carried by a man other than Edmund and her father.

“Why are you hesitating?” Salem gave her a light push. “Sir Callen isn’t going to develop romantic feelings for you just because he’s carrying you.” He paused briefly before adding, “Unless he wants to lose his head.”

“I would never dare!” Callen hissed, accidentally raising his voice.

[I’d rather jump into the abyss than challenge His Majesty.]

Primrose let out a long sigh and mumbled softly, “I’m not hesitating because of that, Sir Vesper. I know Sir Callen is a professional.”

Without wasting more time, she finally climbed onto Callen’s back.

If it were Edmund, she wouldn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him, but unfortunately this wasn’t Edmund.

So instead, Primrose rested her hands awkwardly on Callen’s shoulders.

Trying to distract herself from the awkwardness, she asked, “Where are we going?”

Salem shrugged. “Where else? To someone who can guarantee your safety.”

[None of the soldiers had a chance to send a message to His Majesty since the tiger tribe attacked so suddenly,] Salem thought. [This is exactly why we always need to carry messenger birds.]

“I see something over there!”

Primrose turned around and saw several tiger tribe members on the rooftops, scanning the area around the inn.

“They must be carrying the Queen!”

Primrose tightened her grip on Callen’s shoulders. “We need to go,” she said, her voice trembling. “Now!”

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