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2.42% Stolen by the Rebel King / Chapter 14: Winter's Magic

Chapter 14: Winter's Magic

"Sweetheart! Look at these toys!" Atticus called out loudly, purposely attracting the attention of onlookers.

Daphne turned around and gave him a flinty glare, but there was nothing she could do in front of this crowd. Nothing she wanted to do, at least. Such as wrapping a cord around this man's neck and wringing him dead.

A sparkle appeared in Atticus's eyes. "Don't you think it would be perfect for our new baby?"

The princess's eyelid twitched as she huffed at her husband. She had forgotten how many times she had sent death stares and dagger-filled looks to this man. In the last two days, she felt as though she had forgotten all other emotions other than anger.

"Would the lovely couple be interested in some children's wear?" the store vendor asked, edging closer to them. She clasped her hands together, eager to pounce on her new potential customers.

Decently dressed, tidy, and free of grime. The eagle-eyed seller basically salivated at the thought of their next big sale.

"How old is your child?" she continued to ask, leaning forward. "We have wares for young babes all the way to children ages seven to eight."

"Oh no, we don't have—"

"Just a newborn," Atticus said. He gently pinched the side of Daphne's waist, not hard enough for it to hurt but enough for her to fume silently beside him.

"Yes," Daphne smiled with too many teeth, glaring at Atticus from the corner of her eye. There was a six-foot-tall newborn right next to her at the moment, talking a lot of nonsense. It was also socially unacceptable to smack him to shut him up. "Currently he likes to make a lot of noise."

Atticus snorted, being called a baby was a new low for him. "Isn't that a good thing? Our child could be a minister! Just like me, he has a bright path ahead of him!"

It was Daphne's turn to scoff. "Don't jest, dear husband. He clearly takes after me!"

If her metaphorical child turned out like Atticus, she might fling herself from the castle walls. How could anyone deal with two of him?

Even in this entirely hypothetical, unrealistic, nonsensical scenario, the child had to take after her.

Atticus winked at the seller. "That's what she thinks."

The seller giggled. Oh, this couple was so humorous too!

"The both of you are such a loving couple! I have just the thing for your newborn!" the seller excitedly declared. "I remember how my firstborn would howl through the night! Those were rough times. But don't worry, they shall pass faster with this invention of mine: the Star Bloom!"

She presented said invention with a dramatic flourish. Both Atticus and Daphne stared at her palms.

It was a plush toy in the shape of a star. It was… nice enough. Definitely nothing fancy, but there was evidently hard work put into making it.

"You can touch it," she gestured to the toy. "It's covered in spun wool so it's the perfect softness for a baby!"

Daphne stroked the toy with her fingers. It was soft to the touch, and she could easily imagine the tender hands of a baby or a toddler wrapped around it as they slept.

It was an adorable thought; pity it would never come true.

"What else does it do?" Atticus asked curiously.

Evidently, the seller was waiting for such a question, for she eagerly squeezed it. It easily changed shape with a crinkly sound, as though it was made of moldable clay.

"This will give your child hours of fun!" she claimed. "It's weighted inside, but not so much that it would be difficult for a baby to lift. The weight could help calm them down."

Daphne squeezed it too, just to try it.

To everyone's surprise, the star toy began to glow and radiate a warmth, similar to the snug feeling one would get if one crawled underneath the covers on a cold winter day. It wasn't burning hot, but in the cold of winter, this warmth was much appreciated.

"It's warm!" Daphne exclaimed in surprise. "How is this possible?"

Atticus narrowed his eyes.

He and the seller spoke at the same time, one curious and one petrified with fear.

"Magic."

"How?" She shot a bewildered glance at Atticus. Magic was purely supposed to be meant for royalty and nobility. How could a mere seller, a commoner, get their hands on something like this?

And there was no way it could've been Daphne's handiwork. She had no magical abilities to speak of! How could she trigger a reaction just by touching it? But there was no denying that she had. After all, nothing happened when the seller had touched it, and judging by the way the seller looked like she was about to faint, she didn't expect this either.

"I'll take this then," Atticus said, his eyes gleaming with pleasure. "I'm sure my wife and child will absolutely adore this magical toy." His voice held a hint of caution, almost like a predator stalking its prey. "How did you come by it? Enchanted items aren't so easy to come by."

"I…" The seller shook her head frantically. "Please don't tell the king! His Majesty is awfully strict about magic practices. I don't want to leave Vramid! I don't know how this happened either… I swear… this has never happened before!"

"Then answer my question," Atticus demanded, his tone hardening. "Where did this come from? What is inside this toy?"

"They were just ordinary tiny pebbles!" the seller said frantically. "I was looking for something I could replace beans with as my family needed the beans more for soup. Someone suggested I try using gravel instead, so I tried to find some. But most of them were too rough for babies and I couldn't risk it."

"This one isn't," Daphne prompted. "It feels perfectly comfortable. It's incredible!"

The seller smiled, but it looked more like a grimace.

"You couldn't have come across this by yourself," Atticus said, narrowing his eyes. "Someone gave this replacement filling to you."

The seller paled further. "I… No, I…"

A pointed look from Atticus sent a chilly frost into the seller's heart.

"Last chance," he warned.

She sighed, worry evident on her face. "How… how did you know?"


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Chapter 15: Stolen Identity

"Tell me."

"I… there was a traveler that stopped by my farm," the seller started to say. "He helped us craft some of the more intricate toys in exchange for our sheep's wool. When he heard about my problem, he offered to give me some of his own stones." She paused, hesitating. "He said he found them by the ocean, when the tide was gone."

Atticus clenched his fist. Great.

Someone had infiltrated his kingdom, possibly using his own helpless citizens to smuggle precious gems into his country. This seller would have simply created the toys, and then the rest of the smugglers would simply buy the toys from this woman, who didn't know any better.

No gems appeared with the tides, but how would his citizens know? Most of them have never seen the ocean. Vramid was surrounded by endless winter and what seemed like an infinite row of trees. It would be a miracle to even find moving water in a stream or river.

And if one of Atticus's men had discovered this scheme, this innocent seller's head would have rolled. His kingdom didn't support the illegal mining of gems.

"Am I going to be imprisoned?" the woman asked softly, spotting the murderous look on Atticus' face. This man was probably a constable, even a soldier. He was going to haul her to the king! The very thought made tears form in her eyes.

"No, of course not," Daphne said, holding her hands. "You were completely unaware."

"I didn't know," the woman repeated, just short of crying. "I really didn't. You have to believe me!"

"The pebbles inside this toy," Atticus said instead, changing the topic. "What were the colors? Do you remember?"

"I…" The seller's mouth gaped open and close, unsure what to say. "No, sir. It's hard to tell since the stones were generally mixed. There's a variety of colors in each toy."

"How much is it?" Atticus asked. "For the toy, I mean. I'll buy all of them you have on hand."

"Please take them for free, if it means you wouldn't report me to the king!" The seller reached for the rest of her stock, pulling out a dozen more similar-looking toys.

"Nonsense." Clicking his tongue, Atticus reached for his pouch, pulling out a couple of gold coins. "You are running a business nonetheless, and you have a family to take care of. There's no reason to report you if you're an unknowing helper." Placing eight gold coins in the stall vendor's hands, he continued, "Will this be enough?"

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the shiny golden coins that now sat in the center of her palm. She had never held so much money before! This could feed their family for a whole year, if she budgeted wisely.

"It's more than enough!" she exclaimed. "Thank you, sir, thank you. Thank you for sparing me."

"In exchange," Atticus said, "I'll need you to do something for me."

The seller's heart sank. She knew it wouldn't be so easy to detach her name from magic once they have been related.

Nonetheless, she still bravely said, "What is it? If it's something I can do, I will definitely help out in return for you and your wife's generosity."

"If the same man ever approaches you again, let me know," Atticus instructed. Reaching for the piece of paper and quill behind the counter, he scribbled down an address. "Address your letters to this location and name. It might be better for you to have someone you trust to go in your stead."

The seller peered at the address written on the parchment, her eyes turning as wide as saucers.

"T-This…" she stammered. Her hunch had been right. This man was indeed someone she shouldn't mess with. "Of course, Sir Jonah. If I come across any new information, I will let you know at once."

They bid the frantic woman goodbye, and in their hands were bags full of her toys. To any casual festival goer, they looked like an ordinary couple who went overboard with shopping for their newborn, which was how Atticus wanted it to look.

"Does Sir Jonah know you're stealing his identity?" Daphne asked quietly after they were far enough from the stall vendor.

Atticus shrugged. "What he doesn't know won't kill him."

Daphne longed to take out the toys one by one to see if she could inspire a similar reaction, just to make sure she hadn't been hallucinating the entire situation. Initially, she still wanted to take a look at the many other stalls, but the realization that she could have magical abilities drove all other thoughts from her mind.

'Please let it be true.' She prayed desperately in her heart. If it was nothing but a mere fluke, it would be utterly devastating.

Atticus was surprisingly silent. She cast a careful look, not liking the grimness in his eyes. He was so noisy throughout the trip that she wished he would keep quiet, but now that he wasn't saying a word, the atmosphere was becoming uncomfortable.

"Do you want to go back to the castle?" Daphne asked unsurely, her voice barely above a murmur.

"Hmm?" Atticus turned to look at her as if snapped out of a trance. "Oh, no, of course not, sunshine. We've barely just begun."

"You just seem very…," Daphne hesitated, "out of it. Don't you have to deal with what just happened?"

"Of course I do," Atticus answered. "But it's not that urgent that I would have to sacrifice time with my new wife." His signature cocky grin slipped back onto his face. "Unless, of course, my beloved is rushing back so that we can continue our quality time spent in the bedroom?"

Daphne scowled. She should've known better than to worry about a prick like that. Atticus was a fully grown adult, much more a king. He could take care of himself plenty.

"I take back what I said." She scowled, folding her arms across her chest. "If I'm finally out here, I might as well make full use of the time. Maybe all the walking could even tire you out."

"I know something else that could tire us both out," Atticus immediately glibly insinuated, wiggling his eyebrows. "And it would be an activity both of us would enjoy. Tell me, my dear wife, would we have a dozen kids to make full use of the toys we just bought?"

Instantly, Daphne's face burned red at his words. She sneered at him, eyebrows furrowed and lips pinched into a straight line. If only her little display of magic just now hadn't been a fluke. She would very much enjoy burning this man down to his bare bones.

"Over my dead body!"

"I'm not exactly into necrophilia, but I'll make an exception for you," Atticus commented, pretending to be deep in thought. "But I must say, you have an incredible variety of interests in bed. First strangulation, now necrophilia…"

The audacity of this man!

Daphne screamed into her hands. She wanted to hit him so bad her body was practically steaming with repressed need. There had to be something she could use…something on hand…

"That's a rather distasteful thing, especially for a princess, don't you think?" Atticus continued, loving how his wife was turning a fetching shade of red. She took deep gulping breaths and crouched down, as though she suddenly lost strength in her limbs.

"Sunshine?" Atticus asked warily, now slightly worried. His wife did accidentally discover possible latent magic in her, who knows what effect it might have on her body? There were hardly any studies in this field.

"Are you alright? Do we need to go―"

He was met with a snowball to the face.


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

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