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3.8% Stolen by the Rebel King / Chapter 22: A Gift

Kapitel 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."


Prequel Available!

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

Kapitel 23: Here Comes the Queen

The carriages began rolling in when the sun began to set, and Daphne watched with no small amount of interest at the difference in carriage designs. There was a sigil on top of each carriage, and they seemed to be based on animals. From her room, she could spot a hawk, a bear, and even a fox.

How interesting. Reaweth had nothing like this.

The sight of never-ending carriages lining the path did cause a pit to grow at the bottom of her stomach. These were Atticus' people, and they would be her people soon enough.

Everyone's eyes would be on her. How was she supposed to compose herself, when she spent most of her teenage years at the corner of every ballroom? What if Atticus' nobles were just like him, ruthless and cunning and prone to mocking?

How was she supposed to escape?

"Are you alright?" Atticus asked.

Startled, Daphne jumped a little, turning her head to look at him. Her hand was looped with his, resting on the crook of his elbow.

"Of course," she replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you're about to be sent into the lion's den," Atticus answered, a sparkle in his eye. A faint red crept onto his cheeks. "Well, at least you're dressed for battle."

Daphne's hand reached up to touch her hair.

Maisie had come into her room after she had returned, dressed. The maid basically sobbed and wept in apology for her tardiness before flying into action. Maisie had decided to braid her hair into an elegant, elaborate chignon, emphasizing the sparkle of her earrings, as well as the slenderness of her neck and the necklace that adorned it. She had used red flowers to keep in the theme of the dress, insisting heavily that the king's vision should be kept since he had taken the time to pick such a wonderful outfit for Daphne.

"Let's go."

Her earrings chimed with every movement. She would have to remove them if she was to make her grand escape, in case someone would hear the noise they made. Judging by their craftsmanship, they would fetch her a tidy sum in the case of an emergency.

If the earrings weren't enough, she would have to sell the necklace too. Her hand instinctively curled around the garnet pendant, feeling a strange pang of loss. She had this necklace for less than a day, yet she felt a strong kinship with it, as though it was giving her strength she didn't know she needed.

Daphne thought about the gentle way his fingers brushed her neck as he tried to fasten the necklace for her. The very same bloodstained hands that had killed assassins without mercy. She shuddered.

Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the grand doors of the ballroom, her arm linked in Atticus' own. They swung open, and Daphne was momentarily blinded by the bright lights.

"Introducing King Atticus Heinvres and his wife, Queen Daphne Molinero of Reaweth!" the herald announced.

At that moment, the chattering nobles that had gathered in the ballroom, sipping their wine glasses fell into immediate silence as they finally got a glimpse of their king's chosen bride. Instinctively, Daphne's grip tightened around Atticus's.

Daphne looked down and gulped. There was a long, twisting flight of stairs they had to walk down to the ballroom, and she felt her hands begin to sweat as she caught sight of the numerous judgemental gazes sent her way.

She caught more than a few sneers directed at her, but she willed herself not to react.

She had guessed that there would be plenty of people in attendance tonight but she hadn't thought it would be this many.

How was she supposed to escape like that?

As if he had read her mind, Atticus leaned in and whispered, "Don't even think about running, sunshine. Sable hadn't been very cooperative earlier today and she most certainly wouldn't be now."

Daphne scoffed but otherwise didn't say another word.

The king led her down the stairs and into the middle of the dance floor. As they walked, the crowd parted for them like the red sea, a hushed murmur falling over them. Daphne could catch whispers from here and there, things that only added to her nerves.

"Is that the new queen?"

"I heard she isn't able to use magic."

"A royalty that can't use magic? How weak."

"She will be the fall of the king."

Each additional commentary only made Daphne's heart thump even faster. She didn't care much for whether or not she would be a good queen for Atticus ― she didn't plan to stay long, after all ― but she most certainly had an issue with them talking so brazenly about her when she was right there.

What they said might be true but she was still a princess, and at that moment, their queen. How dare they?

"What a disgrace," the woman nearest to Daphne scoffed. Her companion nodded fervently in agreement.

Daphne glared hotly at the women. If looks could kill, they would've been dead.

When their gazes met, the woman's scowl deepened. She pursed her lips in disdain, trying to match Daphne's glare. But for a second, her eyes flitted to behind Daphne and immediately, her face paled several shades. Her companion followed suit, both of them turning away to look at the floor instead in shame.

She wasn't stupid. Daphne knew that it must've been Atticus's doing. And surely enough, she heard Atticus's voice speaking lowly right by her ear, "Is someone bothering you, sunshine?"

"Only a handful of flies, my dear. Nothing for you to worry about." The endearment rolled off her tongue easily. She hated calling Atticus that, but it was worth it to see the way the women's faces fell in disappointment and fury.

No one said she wasn't capable of being petty.

"My apologies for dirtying your eyes," Atticus said as he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "I'll trim the guest lists in the future."

The women's faces fell even further, and they stalked off to the sides of the ballroom, upset. In their place, several other couples took their spots in the ballroom.

"Forgiven," Daphne said, her lips forming a small smile.

The orchestra started to play.

"Shall we dance?" King Atticus asked with an outstretched hand, a twinkle in his eyes.


Prequel Available!

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

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