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1.73% Stolen by the Rebel King / Chapter 10: Precious Naivety

Chapter 10: Precious Naivety

"Rise and shine, Your Highness!" Maisie chirped delightedly as she pulled the curtains to let the first rays of sunlight through. Daphne let out a groan that sounded more like a drunk stumbling out from a tavern than a sound from a dignified princess.

"It's morning already?" Daphne grumbled, but she still sat up, her hair looking like a bird's nest. She felt barely rested from the events of yesterday, how could it be morning mere hours later?

"Yes!" Maisie beamed at her. "Our mornings start early. Would you like to change for breakfast? I'll brush your hair too."

"Yes please," Daphne got up and sat at the dressing table while Maisie brushed her hair, her face scrunched in concentration as she detangled the knots with a deft hand. Daphne suddenly felt strangely homesick; this was something her old maids would have helped her with.

Yet here she was, hundreds of miles away from her original destination, with no one she trusted for company. Her eyes burned, her heart even more so.

"Your Highness?" Maisie paused, panicking as she saw tears in her princess' eyes. Oh dear, the King would have her head! She dropped the brush and knelt down, her head on the carpet. "I'm sorry!"

"Why? You didn't do anything wrong," Daphne said, hurriedly drying her eyes before pulling Maisie to her feet.

"I'm still sorry," Maisie said, bowing her head repeatedly. "I know you must miss home, but I can't let you go either! I'm sorry!"

"It's not your fault," Daphne said.

The fault lay with one man and one man alone. What could servants do but obey? Daphne sighed, world-weary. If she wanted to escape, she would have to bide her time. Atticus hadn't dishonored her the night before, so she could still regain her old life if she fled.

"Please stop crying," Daphne pleaded, now realizing that Maisie was the one sobbing into her carpet. Maisie replied with wet sobbing.

Daphne sighed. It was a bit like dealing with her younger half-sister Drusilla. She could also easily turn into a blubbering mess without warning. Daphne handed her a handkerchief before making her way to her window. The window pane already had a thin layer of frost, and when she peered down, the grounds were covered in white.

But what stood out was the addition of tents in multiple colors right in the middle of the town square. The castle was a distance away, but Daphne could spot the townspeople, clad in their furs, going about their day.

"Maisie, why are there so many tents?"

Maisie hurriedly blew her nose into the handkerchief and answered her.

"Your Highness, it's the start of our winter fair!" Maisie cheered up almost immediately. "We get traders from all around the kingdom and abroad, there's good food and wine and ice dancing too! They'll be there even after Yuletide."

"That sounds fun," Daphne said wistfully.

Even in Reaweth, she had never been out in a fair. She had no magic; it was simply too much of a risk. Her parents would never allow her. And each year, she could only watch from her window as her brothers and sisters enjoyed their time out and about. On the other hand, Daphne was just a songbird trapped in a golden cage.

"It is!" Maisie nodded enthusiastically. "Princess, you must visit the fair at least once!"

Daphne snorted, unladylike. There was no way King Atticus would let her leave the castle to explore. Daphne hadn't kidnapped anyone before, but even she knew it was preposterous to let one's captive stroll around the town unguarded.

"Maisie, I'm here as a captive," Daphne reminded her gently. "I doubt the King would let me wander around the kingdom unescorted."

"But you are his wife. He will escort you," Maisie said, blinking guilelessly at her. "Why would he stop you from leaving?"

Daphne sighed. Maisie was gullible enough that she would be an easy mark for any conman. Lord help her. Daphne had no idea how Maisie survived in the royal palace for so long, given that it was usually the most dangerous place to be with all the schemes and betrayals.

"Nevermind, just help me dress."

She then observed the dress Maisie picked out for her. It was a beautiful sky-blue dress made from silk, but there was a dark blue overcoat that came with it, most likely to ward off the wind and chill.

It wasn't in her wardrobe last night. She had poked around the room, hoping to find something to aid her escape, but she only found a lot of matronly maroon dresses in the wardrobes. They looked like something her grandmother would wear.

Absolutely ghastly.

"This dress…"

"Is it not to your liking?" Maisie asked, immediately apologetic. "I'll pick a new one for you!"

"No need. I was just wondering where it came from."

"Why, it came from the king, of course!" Maisie said, clasping her hands together. Daphne choked on her spit. "He had these specially commissioned for you. He loves you."

Oh did he? Daphne scowled. This clearly showed that he made plans to kidnap her at least months in advance. Dresses like these weren't made in a day.

And 'love'? Daphne made a face, unable to completely mask her thoughts. It seemed like Maisie really was more naive than she looked to be.

Love didn't exist within the walls of the palace. It wasn't just in Vramid but in Reaweth too, and possibly every part of this godforsaken world. People married for politics and power. Only the commoners were free to marry for love.

"Your Highness?" Maisie asked cautiously, not liking the murderous look that appeared on the princess' face.

"I'm fine." Daphne wiped the scowl away to stop herself from scaring Maisie. It wasn't Maisie's fault she was working for a madman, and she was easily taken in by his lies.

But if Atticus wanted to dress her up like she was his plaything and expected her to take it lying down, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"Maisie, can I borrow a dress from you instead?"

"But that's― Your Highness! You can't, you mustn't!" Maisie was nearly in tears. "His Majesty would be furious!"

Her hands came to wrap around her own neck. Daphne wasn't sure if Maisie was trying to protect it or mimic how it would look when Atticus found out she had lent Daphne a maid's garb.

"He might just…" She gulped.

Daphne couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Maisie, he's not going to kill you," Daphne said in a deadpan. "Now hurry along and get something. Anything."

"Oh…" Maisie bit her bottom lip. "Alright then, Your Highness."

Daphne watched as the young girl scuttled out of the room, only to return moments later with a dress in hand, along with a couple of accessories to match. The princess eyed the common garbs, her eyes brightening.

A bold idea slipped into her mind.

"Maisie," she said, "you are brilliant."


Prequel Available!

Check out the prequel: The Hidden King's Stolen Wife

Chapter 11: Mouse in a Maze

Cotton was surprisingly a much better material to wear than Daphne had guessed. Call her pampered but she was, after all, raised as a princess. There was never a need for her to wear anything less than the finest fabrics the kingdom had to offer.

Yet, dressed in a simple white bell-sleeved blouse and a pale brown skirt, Daphne felt much more comfortable than she would in those stuffy corsets and embroidered gowns. At least she felt like she could breathe properly for once.

When Maisie had shown up with the clothes, an idea popped up in Daphne's head. Or rather, just one word.

Escape.

It was stupid, yes, she could've guessed. However, if Atticus had been so kind as to use magic to treat her foot injury instead of letting her heal on her own, Daphne deduced that she must be somewhat of value to him.

She just wasn't sure how valuable she was. Plenty high, though, she assumed.

That would mean that if ― or rather, when ― her escape plan failed and she was once again captured, at least Atticus wouldn't have her head. There was no use patching up a small tear just to rip the entire fabric the next day.

Of course, sweet darling Maisie hadn't guessed what was running through Daphne's mind when she had helped her change into the clothes. Daphne had bid her farewell, promising to return soon after, claiming that she was on her way to look for the king.

Bless Maisie; she hadn't asked to follow along. She had simply let the princess run off on her own.

The chain of events eventually led Daphne to where she was now. Completely, utterly, foolishly lost in the castle. She had not a single clue where she was, how she got there, and how to leave. And given the fact that she was supposed to be a prisoner, she didn't dare ask for directions either, lest the castle staff recognized her.

"I can almost swear the gate is supposed to be around here somewhere," she murmured under her breath.

She was in an open courtyard. Again. Daphne could've sworn she had just been in an area similar to this. It wasn't possible for a castle to have that many courtyards, was it? Surely the entire castle was enchanted. She wouldn't put it past Atticus to do such a thing as punishment for servants that don't pay attention.

"Need some help, sunshine?" a voice asked from above her. "You've been walking in circles for the last hour."

Daphne's blood chilled, her feet rooting to the ground when she heard that familiar teasing voice. Her eyelid twitched in annoyance, her head slowly pivoting to face where the noise came from.

Surely enough, lo and behold, there sat Atticus right at the windowsill two levels above her, one leg dangling outside while the other was raised, his arm resting on his knee. As ever, Atticus wore a cocky smile that Daphne wanted nothing more than to scratch off his lips.

He was dressed casually― a loose white linen blouse and some dark-colored pants with matching boots. The lace of his blouse was left untied, revealing his broad, muscular chest.

Damn him. Damn him and his God-blessed looks. If only he had the personality to match.

With Daphne stunned, silly, and speechless, Atticus chuckled.

"Perhaps you would like some help?" Atticus asked.

He then leaped off where he sat, slowly descending until his boots made contact with the stone pavement with barely a sound. Up close, right before he reached ground level, Daphne could see wisps of indigo surrounding him, a tell-tale sign of his magic at work.

"Show off," she grumbled under her breath.

If Atticus had heard her, he didn't show. Instead, he said, "I'm not going to lie. It was awfully entertaining to watch you run about like a mouse in a maze. But it's also getting slightly infuriating that you still can't find the exit even though the corridors are empty of guards to catch you."

Daphne could feel a vein throbbing underneath the skin of her forehead.

"I almost had it," she said through gritted teeth.

Atticus grinned, his dimples showing. "Darling, you have such a terrible sense of direction that I am starting to think that I am not even sure you can escape from my kingdom even if I pointed the path to you and gave you a map."

'Breathe,' Daphne reminded herself. 'Dear Lord in heaven, would you please smite him for me or would I have to do it myself?'

Outwardly, she merely forced out a smile. "Why, if you would be so kind, I would be happy to prove you wrong?"

The king chuckled, his laughter bouncing off the walls that surrounded them.

"No can do, sunshine," he said. "However, if you're keen on leaving the castle but returning after night falls, I would be happy to show you around town."

"You mean…" Daphne's eyes widened. "You would let me go to the fair?"

"I would escort you while you visit the fair," Atticus corrected her firmly. Not only did his new wife have a bad sense of direction, but the report Jonah gave last night also highlighted the possible threats. He wasn't taking any chances.

"Oh," Daphne's face fell."I had hoped for more anonymity. How will I enjoy the festival with you around?"

Her brothers and sisters had always enjoyed fairs, and the more daring ones even went in disguise, claiming that it was the best way to get an authentic festival experience. Once one appeared as royalty, vendors would be cloyingly fawning while the townspeople would gawk and stare. It didn't seem much fun to her, to be scrutinized like a prized animal.

"Anonymity, you say?" Atticus raised an eyebrow, taking a closer look at her attire. "Like you pretending to be a palace maid to escape?"

Daphne spluttered.

"But I see your point," Atticus continued. "In that case, I'll make some changes to my wardrobe. Meet me in the main courtyard in half an hour. Keep your maid attire, if it pleases you."

With that final statement, Atticus turned and leaped back through the castle window, using the branches as leverage. That casual show of strength infuriated Daphne and made her nearly green with envy, but she told herself to remain calm.

She was going to the fair. Surely she would be able to find help there, especially if she revealed her identity to any Reaweth trader!

Now… where was the main courtyard again?


Prequel Available!

Check out the prequel: The Hidden King's Stolen Wife

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