novelraw Chapter 522: When Freedom Feels Like a Lie (I)
Chapter 522: When Freedom Feels Like a Lie (I)
"I’m not a part of Averon’s circle. You can be at ease."
The young woman behind the door didn’t answer, but her hand still gripped the sharpened wooden fork tightly, as if she refused to let go.
To be honest, Primrose could tell what she was thinking. The girl didn’t care about her future anymore, she just wanted to hurt Averon. Instead of fighting to survive, she wanted everything to end right away.
That kind of act was not something to be imitated and not a choice anyone should make, but Primrose couldn’t help but understand her situation.
She had seen this kind of suicidal behavior in Hazelle, in the children who had been trapped under Count Veloria’s sugar factory, and even in... herself.
Primrose hated to admit it, but there was a time when she saw Edmund as her worst nightmare. Back then, she had thoughts like that too, the kind of dangerous thoughts she never spoke out loud.
She didn’t try to die, but she also didn’t try very hard to live.
She just wanted everything to stop. Deep down, she had even hoped that if death came, she wouldn’t fight it, and she truly did that.
It sounded terrible, but when someone feels like they have no way out, even death can feel like freedom.
"Nonsense."
The young woman finally spoke. Her voice was dry, rough, like she wasn’t used to talking. Her accent sounded a little strange too, maybe because she had been locked away in the west wing for too long.
"I know what kind of man you are," she said, her tone filled with hatred. "You will pretend to be kind to me, and when I trust you, you will shatter my hope and my life. I’ve experienced something like this before, so don’t bother lying."
The children in Veloria had thought the same way. Salem told her they were scared of being set free because they believed they would only be hunted again afterward.
It seemed that Averon and his bastard friends truly enjoyed giving fake hope to their victims, and Primrose considered that the highest form of cruelty.
"He’s not lying." Primrose gestured for Edmund to stay quiet so he wouldn’t accidentally frighten the young woman.
"Young Miss," she said softly, "have you noticed something? There are no soldiers laughing near us right now."
It was a strange thing to ask, but Edmund didn’t interrupt her, because he knew his wife wouldn’t say such things without a strong reason.
The young woman behind the door fell silent for a moment, but the voice in her mind didn’t fade.
[She’s right... I don’t hear them.]
[Those bastards are always laughing... so why not now?]
[This is strange...]
When Primrose listened to the thoughts of the people in the west wing, they kept talking about those bastard soldiers and how disgusted they felt every time they heard their laughter.
Primrose once believed that not everyone in the palace had a rotten heart, and that they were only guarding the west wing because of orders and money. But... she wasn’t sure anymore. Someone with a conscience wouldn’t laugh at the misery of innocent people.
She didn’t know which soldiers had taken part in hurting these women, but all of those guarding the west wing held vile thoughts about her.
"You probably told them to be quiet," the young woman said at last, her voice still cold. "And who are you, anyway?"
She paused for a second before adding, "Are you his slave?"
[Will my future self become like her? Accepting her fate as someone’s slave and willing to do anything to protect our master?]
Primrose let out a soft hiss because Edmund would never like it if someone thought she was nothing more than his slave.
To be honest, Primrose suspected that her husband would probably prefer to be her slave rather than the other way around, but... that topic should be buried six feet under the ground.
"I’m not his slave, and he has no interest in having one," Primrose said calmly. After a short pause, she added, "Young Miss, I know this is hard to believe, but we don’t have much time to explain everything."
"We only have one hour to save you, so it’s either you let us save you, or we have to take you away by force," said Primrose.
Instead of feeling afraid, the young woman laughed. "Oh, what kind of threat is that? I’ve heard worse. Besides, with you acting like this, you’re only making me more certain that I shouldn’t trust you."
Primrose clicked her tongue in her mind, annoyed at herself for speaking too harshly.
She never meant to frighten them and truthfully, she hadn’t even planned to take them away tonight. But after seeing the state of this place... she couldn’t just leave them here any longer.
Besides, there was no guarantee that she would be able to save them if she backed off tonight.
Still, maybe she was being too confident in herself. She hadn’t even discussed this kind of decision with Edmund yet, and she also didn’t know where she would take them if she saved these women.
Edmund might be able to take Primrose away without being noticed by the other soldiers, but bringing so many women at once... that was far too risky.
Based on their inner thoughts alone, Primrose couldn’t even count their exact number, but it seemed like there were more than twenty women here.
"If we can make King Averon step down from his throne today, would you believe us?" Primrose suddenly asked.
"What?!" The young woman accidentally raised her voice.
[That will be impossible!] she thought. [Isn’t he an only child? How could he suddenly step down from the throne?]
"I know it sounds impossible," Primrose said at last. "But that doesn’t mean it can’t happen."
The young woman frowned, clearly unconvinced. "You’re talking about the king. Do you even understand what you’re saying?"
"I do," Primrose replied without hesitation.