"My dear husband, I'm glad you asked."
Daphne placed her much smaller hand in his, willing herself not to flinch as he placed his other hand on her waist. There were countless eyes staring at her, waiting for her to make a mistake. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
Atticus took a step forward, and they were off. Daphne felt years of dance practice take over instinctively, as she matched his movements step for step, beat for beat, in unison to the melody of the violins. Her dress flared out as she twirled.
As they spun around the dance floor, the lights around them blurred like they were stars. She could fuzzily make out a few more couples joining them when the herald prompted. Slowly, more and more people joined them, surrounding Daphne and Atticus, who were dancing right in the middle.
They were the star, the main attraction. And for once, it didn't feel like too bad of a thing.
Atticus was a great dancer. He moved with expertise, leading them into swirls, dips, and turns. And when the music came to an end, Daphne and Atticus were pressed up against each other. Smiles had unknowingly crept up both their faces, their foreheads slightly shiny with a thin layer of perspiration.
"Quite a nimble dancer you are, Your Majesty," Daphne teased. There must've been something in the air for Daphne felt light, as though she was floating on cloud nine.
"Not so bad yourself." He smiled.
A wave of applause surrounded them but for a brief moment, none of that mattered. Daphne was still riding the adrenaline from their dance, so when Atticus had offered a hand out to her to lead her to a corner, she didn't hesitate and took it instantly.
"Wait here," he instructed. "I'll get us something to drink." When he saw the glint that flashed in Daphne's eyes, he added, "And see that?" Atticus pointed to something a distance from them.
Daphne followed where he was pointing to, only to see two guards positioned right in front of the main door. As she looked around, it seemed clearer and clearer that every exit had been blocked off by Atticus's men.
"Don't waste your breath, sunshine," Atticus said. "Wait for me."
The king quickly disappeared after, blocked by throngs of people that immediately rushed forward to socialize once they realized that the king and queen had momentarily separated. Daphne squinted at the women that had wormed their way to Atticus's side. She might not be in love with that man but it didn't mean that she enjoyed sharing.
The fact that these women were comfortable enough to attempt to seduce her husband in their pitiful attempts at flattery showed that they didn't respect her or her authority. And to add salt to a wound, her husband seemed to be taking his own sweet time with the drinks.
'What a shame,' Daphne thought. 'It would've been a good opportunity to escape.'
"Might I interest Her Highness with a drink?" A voice spoke in a tone much higher than Atticus's voice.
Daphne spun around, alarmed. When she came face to face with a dashing young man, her eyebrows furrowed. Wrinkles appeared on her forehead as she frowned, taking a step back to create some distance between herself and the mysterious man.
"It depends," she said. "Who's offering?"
The man smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.
"Apologies, Your Highness," he said, placing a hand over the left side of his chest where his heart should be, dipping into a bow. "Eugene Attonson, at your service."
"Lord Attonson," Daphne greeted. "Happy to make your acquaintance."
She didn't recognize the face but the name, at least, Daphne had heard of even back in Reaweth. The disabled son of the viscount family, the boy that climbed to the top of the ladder only because of his older brother's untimely death.
It was hard to forget such a name when all that the maids spoke about were of his rumors. Many gossiped about how it was Eugene that murdered his brother due to jealousy and ambition. However, no one ever found out the truth since the man was hidden well in Vramid, a land no one outside dared to enter needlessly.
"Forgive me for intruding so carelessly but it seemed like His Majesty had left for a period of time," Eugene said. "It didn't seem like he was returning anytime soon, so I took the liberty to bring something back for Your Highness."
Daphne eyed Eugene, then the drink he held out in his hand. He had another identical cup, both filled with what seemed like wine.
The smile he wore on his face seemed genuine enough, but Daphne knew that it was just a basic skill to have when in the ranks of nobility. All smiles had to look sincere, all words had to be polite. However, not everyone would have good intentions.
Daphne took the glass.
"Thank you for the kind thought, Lord Attonson."
She didn't drink from it, though. And Daphne didn't miss the way the viscount's eyes had flickered to look at her drink for a fraction of a second. A sinking feeling weighed down in her stomach.
Where was Atticus when she needed him?
"The drink isn't poisoned, if that's what you're wondering," Eugene said with a slight chuckle.
Her wariness had been obvious and Daphne wasn't surprised that he noticed it. She was, however, shocked that he had voiced out his thoughts. That was what piqued her interest.
"Lord Attonson, you're surely not what I expected you'll be like," she slowly said.
This time, it was his turn to look surprised. "Because I am not Edward Attonson?"
"No," Daphne answered immediately. "Because you're much bolder than what the rumors made you out to be."
Eugene smirked. "Correct me if I am wrong, my queen, but the rumors state that I am a murderer that spilled my own blood just to get a mere title." There was something dark hidden in his expression but it came and went so quickly that Daphne thought she had hallucinated it all. "Is that not bold enough?"
"It most certainly pales in comparison to the disrespect you're showing," a new voice added.
A hand came to rest on Daphne's shoulder, her back pressed against someone else's body. She didn't need to turn back to know that her husband had finally decided to show up to her rescue, though she did anyway.
He sure did take his damn own sweet time.
A menacing glint flitted across Atticus's eyes. Eugene was by no means a short nor small man but when compared to Atticus, the latter seemed like a giant with his bulging muscles and intimidating height.
"How dare you speak to my wife."
Someone's possessive...
Do let me know if you are enjoying this book so far!
Check out the prequel: The Hidden King's Stolen Wife
"Greetings to the king," Eugene immediately greeted, bowing.
Atticus barely inclined his head in response. He was behaving like a badly behaved guard.
"Took you long enough." Daphne hissed under her breath. Her nose wrinkled in displeasure; she could smell the stench of other women on him. For some reason that upset her immensely.
How dare he come back smelling like a perfume bottle?
"Oh, you were waiting for me?" Atticus asked hopefully.
Daphne responded by discreetly trodding on his toes, feeling vindictive pleasure in the way he tried not to wince.
"I'm sorry, sunshine. I had to make sure to pick the most suitable wine for you," Atticus said, looking appropriately repentant. He grabbed the glass from Daphne's hand and replaced it with his own.
Daphne wanted to warn him about the drink, but maybe he already knew. Atticus was many things, but he wasn't an idiot. If he was one, her escape plan would have worked the first time.
Speaking of idiots, Daphne also wasn't fooled by his acting, but at least she wasn't cornered by Eugene.
Atticus then shot Eugene a look so derisive, as though he was muck found at the bottom of his shoe.
"I'm a jealous man, Lord Attonson. I don't appreciate anyone getting drinks for my wife."
"Jealousy is a vice, King Atticus," Eugene replied easily, but Daphne saw how his eyes darted from Atticus' face, to the ring on his finger. Obsidian had never glinted so ominously.
"Then let the gods judge me as they deem fit," Atticus said wryly, and before Daphne could react, he downed the entire glass of wine.
"Atticus! Don't do it! Spit it out!" Daphne shrieked in horror, and the entire ballroom fell into stunned silence as they turned to stare at them.
The new queen was making a fuss, and the man next to her had such a muddied reputation it made convicted felons look like saints. Did Lord Eugene already offend Vramid's royal couple? Or was the new queen already losing her mind?
Regardless, it was a scandal waiting to happen. The crowd watched with bated breath.
"What?" Atticus said, blinking innocently as Daphne tried not to hyperventilate. "Sunshine, you have your own drink. I just gave it to you. Drink up, you're looking quite red."
Eugene chuckled darkly. "Your Highness, your wife thinks I've poisoned you. I must say, this does hurt a man's feelings."
Daphne spluttered frantically. "You―"
Atticus laughed, as if highly amused. "Would you rather she hurt your feelings, or for me to hurt you?"
Eugene laughed warily with a light bow. "I'll accept whatever decision you deem worthy."
"Wise man," Atticus said cheerily, but the hard glint in his eyes didn't vanish. "Stop monopolizing my wife with your inane conversation and scram."
Anger briefly flashed through Eugene's eyes as he was ordered to leave, as though he was a mere servant. Daphne internally shuddered at the look. She wouldn't put it past him to take revenge at a later date.
However Eugene Attonson said nothing. He merely gave one last reluctant bow before stalking off, presumably to harass other young ladies.
Daphne breathed a sigh of relief at his retreating back, watching Atticus from the corner of her eyes.
"That was rude of you. Are you not worried he'll see revenge for this slight?"
"He'll have to get in line. I have so many enemies that'll fight him for the honor of decapitating me," Atticus said matter-of-factly, before turning to give Daphne a careful once-over. "Did he say or do anything to you?"
Then returned that careless smirk.
"If he did, nothing will stop me from throwing him into the dungeons," he promised.
Daphne gave him an incredulous look. "I'm not the one that drank the wine he offered! It could have been spiked! Or poisoned!"
Her new husband, instead of being appalled or worried at her accusation, beamed even brighter. Daphne had to wonder if he had been dropped on the head as a baby.
"You were worried about me? How sweet, sunshine. I'm glad to know you care so much about my well-being."
"I do not care about you," Daphne retorted defensively. "I'm just shocked that my new husband has so little self-preservation that he would drink poisoned wine. Perhaps if the heavens are kind, I'll be a widow by next week."
"Yet again, you demonstrate your lack of faith in me. I would be hurt, if I didn't find it incredibly charming."
Daphne snorted in disbelief. "So charming that you took an astonishingly long time to get a single glass of wine? You didn't even get me a single crumpet or scone to go along with it."
Atticus shot her a teasing grin, a hand idly stroking the small of her back. "So you were watching me. Were you jealous that this handsome husband of yours has women swarming all over him like bees to honey?"
Daphne spluttered, her face red. Jealous? Only in his wildest dreams. To spare herself the indignity of a reply, she all but drank her wine like it was water.
"Sunshine, have I driven you to alcoholism?" Atticus asked, watching her with mild alarm.
"Be thankful you haven't driven me to murder," Daphne replied primly, 'accidentally' stomping on his foot.
He winced, but then that disturbingly happy grin refused to leave his face. It made plenty of women titter behind their hands, snatching covetous glances at him and disdainful looks at Daphne.
King Atticus had always been a handsome man, but when he smiled, he was breath-taking. It was such a shame that he had to be saddled with such a talentless princess! Such were the thoughts the women had, even among those who were already married.
"I hate her, I hate her so much!" From the corner of the room came a bitter whisper.
It was Lady Veronica, the youngest daughter of Earl Yarrowood. She had been beside herself with glee to be invited to the ball, yet that woman caused her to make a negative impression in front of King Atticus!
It wasn't like she was lying. Princess Daphne of Reaweth couldn't do magic. What right did she have to act pitiful in front of the King and insult them afterwards?
"She doesn't deserve him! Look at her― she still dares to stomp on his foot!" Veronica scowled, stomping her own foot in anger.
"So ill-bred. Was she raised in a barn?" Her bosom friend, Lady Penelope, daughter of Baron Huntington, added in agreement. They watched as King Atticus led the Reaweth princess in yet another series of dances, and nearly went blind with jealousy. "Look at how she doesn't even smile when he's paying her so much attention. Who does she think she is?"
"Then why don't you teach her a lesson?"
Check out the prequel: The Hidden King's Stolen Wife
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