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3.63% Stolen by the Rebel King / Chapter 21: Do Me Up

Chapter 21: Do Me Up

Piece of junk…

Daphne's heart dropped as his words reverberated in her mind.

"How could this be? You must be lying." Daphne shook her head furiously.

"What reason do I have to lie to you?" Atticus pointed out. "If anything, I'd keep you powerless and ignorant. That'll make it easier to control and imprison you."

"Thank you for that consideration," Daphne replied, slightly appeased. "Could it be that clear quartz just wasn't the right stone for me?"

"Perhaps. I wouldn't know. The pendant wasn't made of clear quartz, to begin with."

Daphne's mouth fell open.

"Sorry to tell you this, sunshine," Atticus said, looking slightly pitying at her. "You were slinging around that bit of glass like it was a prized possession. You would have done more damage waving a stick."

"Glass?" Daphne repeated dumbly. "Then my sister…"

Her mind swirled at this new information. It would mean that Drusilla had gotten her something useless on purpose.

No, that couldn't be.

There was no way Drusilla would have done this to her. They may be half-sisters but she had always been the sister closest to her, and whenever someone insulted Daphne's lack of magical aptitude, Drusilla would immediately defend her, pointing out her other strengths.

Drusilla must have been taken advantage of by a swindler. Daphne nodded firmly to herself. Drusilla and Maisie were a lot alike, and it was entirely possible that a con man sold Drusilla a fake necklace, claiming that it would save Daphne's life.

"Someone really wanted you to remain useless," Atticus said. "Are you sure you can trust your sister?"

"Nonsense, my sister would never harm me. She must have been hoodwinked. Don't try to sour our relationship!" Daphne declared imperiously, even as her mind scolded Drusilla for not checking.

Daphne was her sister. Why didn't she care enough to make sure the necklace worked?

If the situation had been flipped, Daphne would have never given her a spoilt gift.

Atticus raised his hands, a smirk on his face. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. As it stands, your sister gave you a useless necklace, and your family never discovered your latent magical ability, yet they made you feel like a failure for their mistakes. If I were you, I'd be furious."

"I'm fine," Daphne said. "That's not important. They're my family. I can't be angry at them. It's fine."

"Funnily enough, I'd think being family is all the more reason to be angrier." Atticus mused, a faraway look in his eyes. "Strangers don't owe you a thing, but family does. They owed it to you to cherish you, to nurture you, to love you."

Daphne sucked in a deep breath. His words struck a chord in her, and she had to blink back tears that formed in her eyes.

She had never felt so seen, so acknowledged than at that moment… and it had to be by a man who kidnapped her. Not her siblings, not her parents, not her fiance. What a travesty.

"It's fine," Daphne repeated, now sounding more choked up than before. She had to change the topic before she burst into tears in front of him. "Now, can you test me for magic? Oh wait, I have to fast for a day first. And cleanse myself… Do you have a lake?"

Atticus stared at her blankly as though Daphne started neighing like Sable.

"...I'm guessing Vramid does things differently," Daphne said, after an awkward pause.

"Reawethens." Atticus rolled his eyes and grumbled. "What nonsense are they coming up with now? Next thing you know, they'll be making the next generation of kings walk naked through their capital."

"It's spiritual!" Daphne squawked. "You're supposed to rid yourself of earthly attachments!"

"It's hogwash," Atticus retorted. "We're testing for magic aptitude, not trying to fit you into last season's ball gowns. Go and starve yourself if you want, but don't blame me if there's no result."

Daphne fell into sulky silence.

Atticus was torn between the sudden urge to pinch those cheeks of hers or cuddle her until her frown vanished. No, that would be foolish. She was a prisoner, a chess piece. Not his companion.

"Alright. What should I do then? Walk out into the snow?" Daphne asked, curious as to what rituals Vramid had.

"You have to find a bear, and wrestle it," Atticus said seriously.

Daphne was just about to panic, but then she caught the tell-tale glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Liar! If you don't want to help me, don't waste my time!" She smacked his arm, upset at how he was treating it like a joke. Her blow barely landed, but Atticus pretended to be grievously wounded. She stormed off, only for Atticus to chase after her and pull on her arm.

"My apologies, sunshine. You make it too easy to tease you," Atticus said, and he actually sounded apologetic. "But there's no set ritual in Vramid. I'll just hand you certain stones found in the toys, and you'll hold them."

"That's it?"

"Well. The toys are in my office." Atticus gave her a roguish smirk. "If you can accept spending time alone with me in such an intimate setting…"

"Let's just go," Daphne said primly, excitement radiating through her. She was finally going to find out her true abilities!

Atticus led her easily to his office, pushing the door open.

There was not much light in there with the curtains down. Only a slight sliver of the setting sun's light slipped into the room, illuminating whatever was on Atticus's desk. Stones of all shapes and colors were scattered across his desk, freeform crystals that weren't polished nor properly handled yet.

The king smiled sheepishly. "Pardon the mess," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I've been a little busy."

"Is this where you've been disappearing to?" Daphne looked around, walking towards the table.

She picked up a random stone on the desk― aquamarine, she guessed. The beautiful pale blue looked just like the tides of the ocean. On her palm, the stone was cool to the touch. She couldn't help but be entranced by it.

"Maybe." Atticus's reply was purposely vague. "That's not the point."

His long strides quickly brought him across the room. He gestured to the couch. Daphne's line of sight trailed after where Atticus pointed, where she found a beautiful gown laid over the couch's backrest. The fabric was red, detailed with gold embroidery that almost shimmered even under the soft lighting.

Daphne couldn't help but gasp in awe.

"Get dressed," Atticus instructed.

"With you still here?" Daphne asked, eyeing him warily. There was a folding screen in the room, but it still made her uneasy.

Atticus rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, sunshine. If I wanted you naked, I wouldn't go through this much trouble."

Daphne scowled, quickly picked up the dress, and walked over to the folding screen. It was soft and silky, and she couldn't help but run an appreciative hand across the fabric, admiring how the light highlighted the gold embroidery.

"Are you done?" Atticus asked, just because he knew it would annoy her.

"Can you just wait?" Daphne retorted. Unknown to her, Atticus smirked at her peevish reply.

Daphne hurriedly slipped out of her old outfit and stepped into the new dress. Yet, when she got to the corset, she stopped short. She couldn't possibly lace it up on her own! But the only person available was…

"Uh… Atticus?" Daphne reluctantly called out, peeking out from the screen. "I might require your assistance."

Atticus, who was preoccupied with staring intensely at the box in his hand, jumped a little when he heard her voice. He snapped the box shut and shoved it into the drawer of his desk, clearing his throat. He then made his way over, frowning.

"What is it?"

"Could you call Maisie over?"

"Why? I'm sure she's busy." Atticus raised an eyebrow. "Is it that hard to put on a dress? "

Daphne breathed deeply, reminding herself to be calm.

"I need help with my dress," she said evenly, spinning around. She pulled her hair to the front, showing Atticus the loose laces of her corset.

"No offense, sunshine, but I don't exactly trust your little maid yet." Atticus folded his arms across his chest. "I can't let her into the room filled with possibly smuggled crystals that could be potentially dangerous in the hands of the wrong people."

Her face felt hot when she squeezed her next words out. "If you're so confident about this, then you can help me do up my laces."


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Chapter 22: A Gift

For a man of royalty, Atticus was a king that prided himself on maintaining a cool head on numerous occasions. He had been in battles, fought wars, handled the court, and been through many other things that would've been the end of him if he had let himself slip.

So, it was rather odd that it took as little as a lady asking for help to cause his face to burn bright red like a beetroot.

"Pardon?" Atticus asked. "You want me to do what?"

"Do me up," she repeated. "My laces, I mean. I can't properly lace my corset myself."

Atticus swallowed heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he did so. Slowly, he edged closer toward Daphne before holding onto the laces where she gestured to.

"Most women can do this themselves," he muttered under his breath.

"Yes," Daphne answered. "But I can't get it as tight as I want it to be. Thus I need another person's help."

"Let me know if it's too tight, then."

He began pulling the strings, tugging at the laces as Daphne gasped in surprise. He repeated the motion a couple of times, watching in awe as her waistline got smaller and smaller. All the while, Daphne did not make a single sound above a gasp or a muffled grunt.

"Is that better?" he asked once he was done.

"Thank you," Daphne said. She moved her hair back, and when she did, Atticus could smell the fragrance of flowers on her hair.

She turned nearly just as quickly, and only when she had did Atticus realize how close they were standing to each other once again. When their gazes met, Atticus thought his feet had been nailed onto the floor and his heart had been whipped― it was racing like a horse running free.

The memory of Daphne sprawled on top of him that day of their snowball fight resurfaced in Atticus's mind. It was an odd sensation. His blood felt cold, as though someone had replaced it with the chilly, near-frozen waters of Vramid's rivers. Yet, his body felt like lava had been poured over his skin.

"You're welcome," Atticus croaked out.

He cleared his throat and mentally snapped himself out of the feverish state his body found himself in. It was as though she had placed an enchantment on him; his fingers still felt heated― as though he was a young boy that had burnt himself on candlelight.

Daphne turned around, curious at the strange tone of his voice.

"Are you alright? Will you be ready for the ball?"

"Thanks for your concern," Atticus said, purposely batting his eyelashes as he quickly stepped back. Teasing Daphne brought him back to familiar territory, something he desperately needed. "But this humble servant finds his fingers in excruciating pain. Will my lady be so kind as to kiss them better?"

Daphne scowled, a red flush on her cheeks. She shouldn't have wasted her concern on him!

"Put those fingers near me and I'll make sure you lose them!"

"All good deeds remain unappreciated," Atticus lamented dramatically, gesturing to the box. "To think I was going to give you this beautiful jewelry set I got for you for the ball…"

"You were?" Daphne eyed the box warily.

"You of little faith." Atticus popped the box open with a flourish, and Daphne couldn't stop the breathless exhale that escaped her when she caught sight of its contents.

Atticus wasn't lying. In the box laid a pair of dangling earrings with an impressive garnet crystal at each end, designed to look like a blooming rose. Daphne watched, captivated, as they flickered in the light, glowing like tiny fire embers.

When she reluctantly tore her eyes away from them, she finally noticed the necklace. If the earrings were lone stalks of roses, the necklace was an entire flower garden. Surrounding the garnet pendant were plenty of other crystals in various shades of red, the intricate golden chain weaving them together in perfect harmony.

"You got this for me? Why?" Daphne asked, wonderingly.

"You are my wife," Atticus said bluntly. "How could I let you face my court without any armor?"

Daphne's heart raced at the surprisingly considerate gesture. "I doubt your court is that terrifying. Nothing could be as terrifying as you."

"You'll see when you meet them later," Atticus promised. "Please keep these on you at all times."

"...Why?"

Ignoring Daphne's previous threat, Atticus brought Daphne's hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. He tried his best to ignore the sensation of her bare skin against his, how soft, smooth, and fragile it was― she was.

"For protection."

Yes, protection. Against the questioning stares of the noble circle, against the calculative glances of the members of his court, and against the curious looks that would've been given by the common people if they had the luxury to meet their new queen in person.

Atticus had many enemies. Much too many to count. And it would be good for Daphne to have a crystal she could use ― one that was actually working ― to protect herself if it ever came down to it.

"And," Atticus added, "this shall be your first aptitude test."

"Oh?" Daphne's ears perked a little in curiosity. "To test my magic?"

"Yes." He nodded. "May I?"

Daphne smiled, wordlessly shifting her hair away and turning around to provide Atticus access to the back of her neck. He picked up the necklace from the box, carefully securing the necklace around Daphne's neck. When he was clasping it shut, his fingers accidentally grazed against the back of her neck, causing her goosebumps to rise.

She tried her best to refrain from shuddering instinctively.

"You will be wearing this for the next few hours," Atticus said. "This will give us enough time to observe how your aura reacts with the stone. If garnet works well with you, these will help you hone your magic."

"And if it doesn't?"

Daphne turned around once Atticus was done, allowing her gaze to meet his. For a second, Atticus thought he spied fear in her irises. But as soon as it came, it was gone.

"Then," he answered, his voice barely even above a murmur, "it will be a pretty piece of jewelry for a beautiful lady."


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

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