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2.76% Stolen by the Rebel King / Chapter 16: Traitorous Mind

Kapitel 16: Traitorous Mind

Atticus spluttered as he coughed out a mouthful of snow, only for Daphne to grab another handful and shove it down his shirt. The cold caused him to let out an undignified shriek; he immediately channeled his powers through the sunstone in his pocket, suffusing his body with a warmth that melted the offending snow.

He bared his teeth, ready for battle. Even if the opponent was his wife, he wasn't going to show her any mercy!

But when he was about to strike, he was struck dumb by the sound of her laughter. His wife, who had scowled and grumbled and snarled at him in no small measure ever since she had arrived at Vramid, had her face tilted to the sky as she laughed uproariously. She was practically wheezing with laughter.

He stilled his hand, all of a sudden captivated as though he was stuck in a trance.

She looked enchantingly lovely, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her breath escaping her mouth in puffs as she gasped and laughed. All this while, Atticus had viewed her as part of his project, a means to an end. She wasn't really as much a person as she was a tool. Just like the stones they wielded, she was beautiful but that was just about it.

Yet now… Now he was utterly beguiled. How hadn't he noticed before?

Princess Daphne of Reaweth was always rumored to be beautiful. He hadn't been surprised or disappointed when Atticus finally saw her in real life as well. But now… every bit of laughter that escaped her lips sounded like the tinkling of wind chimes. Her smile was radiant and seemingly held the warmth of sunlight in it. And her eyes, when they weren't glaring him down with the heat of Hell, reminded Atticus of the swirling depths of the ocean― he was willing to drown in them forever.

She bent down again and flung another handful of snow at him.

Atticus blinked, snapping himself out of the strange stupor he found himself in. So what if his wife was beautiful and lovely, and when she laughed it felt like the coming of spring in his heart? That wasn't important, and it wouldn't derail the plans he had for her.

It couldn't.

He steeled his heart, and then scooped up the snow, using his powers to quickly, yet discreetly, shape it into a perfect snowball. Daphne may have gotten the better of him, but it was only because he was taken unawares. He was raised in the heavy snowfalls of Vramid, there was no way a sheltered princess from sunny Reaweth would defeat him in a snowball fight!

He flung it straight at her. Now it was Daphne's turn to scream as she ducked just in time, covering her head with her hands.

"Sunshine, don't start battles you can't win," Atticus drawled out, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he prepared to fire his weapon at her.

Daphne frantically gathered snow to gather into a ball, not liking the look in his eyes. She was going to suffer severe consequences for her audacity, but the first shot had already been fired. Since she was going to be punished either way, she might as well go down with a fight.

"You'll never get me alive!" she declared hotly as she simply flung what she had at him.

Without magic, the snowballs that Daphne made in haste were anything but great. They were barely circular and really more oval than anything. Some snowballs were so fragile that they broke apart before even crossing the distance between them. The others were too densely packed and would've no doubt hurt if it had successfully hit its target.

Thankfully, Atticus had the unfair advantage of using his magic to tear through her ammo. If the snowballs actually made it to him, it would no doubt cause a bruise.

"Are you getting tired already?" Atticus commented, laughing as he shot snowball after snowball in Daphne's direction. He could see the puffs of white that escaped her lips with every breath. Her stamina was quickly running out. "You can always surrender, you know? Along with a nice apology since you did start this war."

Daphne gritted her teeth, her buttons officially pushed. "Never!"

Letting out a war cry, she did something her parents and the rest of her family would've keeled over if they saw her doing. Taking off at full speed, Daphne made a mad dash toward Atticus. She charged towards him, reaching out her hands to tackle him.

At first, Atticus was confused about what his new wife was up to. Then, when he saw the look on her face ― one which resembled a berserk animal in an arena ― his eyes widened in horror.

"Wait… Sunshine… No―"

It was too late. By all means and reason, Daphne's body weight and strength shouldn't have been enough to tackle down the monstrous giant Atticus was, standing at 6'3. However, when the tuft of bright golden hair came charging towards him, he didn't know what took over his body.

The moment her hands wrapped around his torso, Atticus fell back with Daphne clinging onto him. Gravity brought them down to the ground while the layers of powdered snow cushioned their fall, though Atticus took the brunt of it.

His hand held Daphne's head securely, making sure she hadn't hit anything on the way down. Or at least, nothing more than more snow shoveled in their faces due to the fall.

"You are insane." Atticus hissed, wincing. Nothing badly hurt but it wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling either to be sent sprawling onto the ground.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Daphne grumbled.

"Sunshine, there are better methods to win a fight," Atticus retorted. "For example―"

He stopped short when Daphne looked up, finally lifting her gaze from his chest and back onto him. Their eyes met and for a second, Atticus forgot how to breathe. He hadn't realized they were so close to one another. And at that moment, he was suddenly hyper-aware of everything― how their faces were inches apart, how his hand was on the back of her head and at her waist, how her palms were pressed against his chest.

Atticus's Adam's apple rolled up and down. His heart felt like it stopped beating for a second there.

"Like?" she asked, her voice suddenly softer and meeker than before.

"Like…" he trailed off. His gaze lowered from her doe-like eyes down to her soft, pink lips before snapping back up to meet her gaze. "Like calling it a truce," he finally choked out. "You are freezing."

In haste, Atticus climbed to his feet, pulling Daphne up along with him. Once they were standing properly, he repelled away from her as though she had caught the plague. He didn't know why he was acting that way either, only that he knew he couldn't be near her in that manner again. If not, who knew what would happen to his traitorous mind?

"Let's head back," he said. "You need to get warm."

With that said, Atticus and Daphne started their journey back to the castle. Only this time, unlike when they were leaving the castle earlier, the journey back had more words unspoken than said.


Prequel Available!

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

Kapitel 17: First Things First

"Princess! You've returned safely!" Maisie wailed in relief when she saw Atticus and Daphne arrive back at the castle. She had been anxiously pacing a hole in the courtyard, waiting for the princess to return. When she had realized the princess had left for the Winter Fair, she had been beside herself with horror.

The princess was dressed as a maid and had no money! The weather was cold and she had no cloak! What if she got conned by dishonest vendors? What if unrighteous men lusted after her beauty and took her captive? What if the princess never returned?

The poor maid only calmed down slightly after knowing that King Atticus was with her.

"You're shivering!" She quickly wrapped a cloak around the princess, not liking the paleness of her skin and lips. When Maisie spotted the wet patches on her dress, she panicked. "Princess, what happened to you?"

"Snowball fight," Daphne replied tiredly, her mind in a daze from the day's events. She accidentally activated a magic crystal, started a snowball fight with Atticus, and tackled him into the snow. Now Atticus was treating her like she had the plague, refusing to talk to her or even look at her on the way back.

This was even stranger than them finding out a toy seller had unknowingly sewn magic crystals in her toys.

"Run a hot bath for the princess," Atticus ordered as he strode indoors.

"What about you?" Daphne asked, not out of concern, but out of… something. She had shoved him into the snowbank. He must have been freezing. She felt vaguely guilty.

"I'm busy," Atticus curtly said, pointedly not looking at her as he strode up the stairs.

Maisie blinked, before looking at Daphne as though she had the answers to her liege's unlikely behavior. Daphne could only shrug. Perhaps Atticus was allergic to being tackled by women?

Was he such a petty man that he didn't like her after she caught him by surprise, even for something as trivial as a snowball fight?

She sniffed. How small-minded.

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Maisie bowed hurriedly. "Princess, this way! There's an active fireplace here. Please wait while I prepare your bath."

Daphne followed her, one eye on Atticus's back.

"So you've finally returned!" Sir Jonah had stormed down the corridor, hotly pointing at King Atticus who paused at the steps. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Hi Jonah, how are you doing?" Atticus said blandly, but Daphne could detect the sheepish tone in his voice. "Lovely to see you, do you want some roasted meat―"

"I'll turn you into roasted meat!" Sir Jonah declared as he leaped up the stairs. Atticus, the fearsome king he was, simply flung the bag of children's toys at Jonah, before turning tail and running up the stairs like his life depended on it.

Sir Jonah caught the bag and was hot on his heels, yelling at him to stop.

Daphne raised a curious eyebrow.

"Sir Jonah was so mad with worry when he found out King Atticus didn't tell him before sneaking out with you," Maisie whispered. "His face could curdle milk!"

Daphne snickered and then sneezed. And then sneezed again.

Darn it.

***

"Jonah, if you behave like this, there's going to be a lot of rumors about us," Atticus pointed out as Jonah finally cornered him in one of the castle's empty rooms, slamming the door behind him. "Why do I feel like a husband that got caught having an affair?"

"Like I would ever marry someone that decides to leave the castle without even a simple note." Jonah scoffed, and Atticus winced.

He knew he had forgotten something when he left the castle in a hurry. He was too focused on spending time at the fair, spying on his people, and teasing his new wife. The thought of her rosy puffed cheeks and her pouty lips unknowingly sent a grin onto Atticus's face.

"And look at you, smiling right now, as if it was something to be proud of!"

The observation quickly wiped the smile off. Atticus's expression straightened, his lips pursed guiltily as if he were a child whose hands were caught in the cookie jar.

Jonah continued to rant, upset. "No note, no guards, nothing but only a horse and a princess dressed as a maid with you. Your Majesty, do you have memory loss? Or did the very recent assassination slip through your mind? Should I bring out the decapitated heads for you to jolt your memory? Maybe splash some blood on the washed rugs?"

"I handled that just fine, so honestly―" Atticus began, but Jonah was on a roll.

"I'm not stopping you from having your fun. In fact, I think it's a great idea if you wish to go out with the princess to endear yourself to her." Jonah sighed, pinching the skin between his eyebrows. "But for the love of God and heavens above couldn't you let me know first? Especially after we had that talk about getting you guards! Were you not listening to me?!"

"Yes I was, and I truly forgot about sending you a note," Atticus said meekly, trying to seem sorrier than he was.

His mother had long passed away, but sometimes Jonah channeled her so well he wondered if it was her spirit possessing him. When he got like this, Atticus would just nod his head and admit his faults.

"But don't worry, my friend, you'll be getting plenty of notes soon enough," Atticus continued, a glint returning to his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Atticus then regaled him with everything that happened at the fair, from Daphne's magical awakening to the toy seller's story and how he gave her Jonah's address. Jonah looked less than pleased, his face growing darker with every word that crossed Atticus' lips.

"What a headache," Jonah complained as he looked into the bag he caught. "Not only do we have a smuggling ring on our hands, you gave her my address?"

"Well, I wasn't going to give her mine," Atticus said, shrugging. "I was in disguise! I can't exactly say 'Please address your intel to the king at the royal palace'. She thinks I'm you. If she falls in love with you, do know it's because of me. I was a perfect gentleman."

"Nonsense! You probably ruined my reputation!" Jonah squawked. "Besides, 'I' am now married with quite possibly a child on the way. Why would she be sending me love letters? And if she did, if I had reciprocated, wouldn't that be the end of my reputation?"

"Bah, that's a problem for later. Right now, there's something we're missing," Atticus said."If you were a smuggler, why would you choose children's toys?"

"No one would expect it. We certainly didn't." Jonah shrugged and pulled out a toy, wondering what Atticus meant. It didn't react in his hands so he pulled out another.

This time, the toy glowed a bright green― a tell-tale sign of earth element activation. Jonah hurriedly tamped down his aura, causing the toy to dim.

"Fuck," Jonah cursed, his eyes widening.

"Fuck indeed."


Prequel Available!

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

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