Descargar la aplicación
0.17% Stolen by the Rebel King / Chapter 1: Stolen
Stolen by the Rebel King Stolen by the Rebel King original

Stolen by the Rebel King

Autor: saltedpepper

© WebNovel

Capítulo 1: Stolen

"Get your hands off of me! Where are you taking me?" Daphne struggled in the grips of her captors, shoving back against their hold. Unfortunately, her frail strength could not be compared to that of two fully grown men, who each held onto one of her elbows with an iron grip.

It was supposed to be her wedding day. She was prepared to suffer stiff muscles from sitting in a carriage for too long, ready to endure awkward conversations with her new, unfamiliar husband from a new, unfamiliar land. After all, as the only royal family member who could not wield magic, that was all that she was worth.

And the rest of the royal circle made sure she would never forget that.

Yet, she did not expect to be inelegantly snatched from her carriage and kidnapped to a land no one dared to set foot in. Vramid, with its numerous mountain ranges, frequent hailstorms, and deadly wildlife, was a death trap for the unprepared.

And now, the chilly winds and frightful storms outside the barren stone walls of the fortress reflected the scene exactly in Daphne's heart.

"Shut up!"

The guards promptly shoved her to the ground without further warning, causing her to cry out as her knees slammed against the hard marble floor. The skin on her hands burned as her palms slid across the floor from the strength of their throw.

"How dare you!"

The guards scoffed, unimpressed. They moved away without a single glance.

Daphne was a princess; she had never been treated so roughly in her life. The skin of her hands was now red with friction burns and her knees were bruised due to the impact. However, that was the least of her worries.

Right in her line of sight was a pair of polished boots. Daphne's eyes reluctantly trailed up, her goosebumps rising more and more by the second. A long pair of legs, a strong torso, a broad chest clothed in fine military wear― her heart stuttered as she registered a pair of dark amber eyes glaring down at her.

Even though his eyes were a warm color, the look he shot her was frosty. Her hair stood to its ends and her blood ran cold.

"Hello, princess," the man drawled in a deep voice, slow and sensual.

From where Daphne was, the man seemed to be towering over her, though she knew that wouldn't be far from the truth. He had a leg crossed over the other, the side of his head propped up by his knuckles as he smiled down at her.

His smile, paired with his dark cold eyes, caused Daphne to feel more threatened than if he were to immediately stab a sword through her heart. She heard rumors that the people of Vramid were ruthless, but this man seemed to be another brand of intelligently cruel, the sort that would give her a rope to hang herself with.

This was a man that liked to play with his prey.

"Hello," Daphne replied. She stood up shakily, trying to calm her racing heart. Her hand instinctively went to her opal necklace, preparing to shatter it to send out a signal for help once he was distracted.

"You seem to have me at an advantage. I do not know your name."

"Make an educated guess, princess. It's not that hard," he said mockingly. "According to the bards, the first princess of Reaweth was meant to be the wisest of all royalty. If you are the best they have to offer, your family must be as intelligent as a sack of rocks."

Daphne spluttered furiously, her fear was now accompanied by indignation at the insult to her family. If Daphne wasn't his prisoner, she would have given him an earful for his rudeness.

Instead, she could only settle for glaring hotly at him. She reminded herself to stall. She had the crystal, and her fiance would soon realize she hadn't arrived and send a search party out for her.

"Are you going to give me three guesses?"

"Do I look like an imp from a story, longing to steal your firstborn?" Now, there was amusement in his eyes. Daphne froze— this was a story read to children in Reaweth. She highly doubted it would spread all the way to Vramid.

How did this man know it? She eyed him carefully.

"I—"

Suddenly he stood up, towering over her. He was close enough that she could smell the scent of cedar and pine from his body. She instinctively tried to step back, but her legs couldn't move. It was as though they had been nailed to the floor with an unseen force.

"What are you doing?" Daphne wanted to scream, but the air was stolen from her lungs.

"Tsk, tsk. You're smart, Princess. I stand corrected. But not smart enough." The man's fingers gently stroked the soft skin of her cheek, before reaching for her chin, tilting it high enough that it was almost painful for her.

This close, she could see the gold flecks in his eyes. They were still terrifyingly cold, despite the amused smile on his face. He leaned closer, as though he aimed to kiss her.

"Don't—" Daphne frantically tried to push him away, but then she realized she made a fatal mistake.

The man's target wasn't her lips. It was her necklace.

Before she could grab it, he reached out and easily tugged the necklace loose from her neck. Daphne's neck burned from where the necklace was pulled free, staring helplessly as the crystal beads clattered loudly when it made contact with the cold marble floor.

"How…" Daphne's eyes widened in shock and fear. This necklace was a priceless gift from her sister, crafted with nothing but the best for royalty. It was supposed to be indestructible.

Yet… This man snatched it from her neck as though it was merely a cheap trinket from the market.

"This? This is nothing." He laughed, idly dangling the huge opal crystal in his hand right in front of Daphne's horrified face. "My apologies. Did you depend on this for rescue?"

"Give it back!"

"It was mine first." Before Daphne could figure out the meaning in his words, the man clenched his fist around the crystal and crushed it with his bare hands, seemingly delighted at Daphne's torment.

"You beast! Why have you brought me here," Daphne seethed, forcing the words out. Fear and raged war within her. Her eyes darted to the fallen shards of the crystal beads, now coated with a thin layer of the man's crimson blood.

"Well," he said with a lazy grin. Daphne watched as he leaned back into the throne. "To be my bride, of course."


Prequel Available!

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

Capítulo 2: Unwilling Bride

"You are insane," Daphne spat out, furious. "Utterly deluded, if you think I would agree. I am promised to another."

Contrastingly, the man seemed to be overjoyed. His eyes had lost some of their coldness. He chuckled, smiling fondly at Daphne as though she was his real lover. If she hadn't known better, she would've even been mistaken by the look he gave her.

She knew better. It didn't stop him from messing with her mind.

"Yes, I know. Poor Prince Nathaniel will simply have to live with this tiny disappointment. Don't worry your pretty head about it," he said comfortingly, patting her cheek. She flinched.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's still time for you to set things right. Unhand me at once! I have to marry him!"

"Hmmm…" he tilted his head in consideration, before giving her a mocking smile. "No."

Daphne stifled an exasperated scream, her fingers twitching as she longed to wrap them around her captor's neck and squeeze. Meanwhile, the man just watched her yell with an indulgent smile, as though she was a pet making a fuss.

"You'll find that I'm a much better husband than Prince Nathaniel." He continued, "After all, what is a prince compared to a king?"

"... A king?" Daphne paled, giving the man a careful once-over.

This couldn't be King Atticus, could it? According to the stories, he was supposed to be an old wizened man!

"You're King Atticus?" Daphne asked, still disbelieving. "Of Vramid?" When the man didn't reply, Daphne's blood boiled. "Don't lie to me, everyone knows that King Atticus is supposed to be an old man. Are you sure you're not his son?"

King Atticus, according to the kingdom of Reaweth's knowledge, was an old wizened man who made a deal with the devil for his powers. Tales of his cruelty and bloodlust were well-known in Reaweth― in fact, King Atticus was a popular tale used by parents to scare misbehaving children. They claimed that King Atticus would steal unruly children by wrapping his long clawed fingers around their ankles as they slept, and devoured them in his attic in exchange for cursed power.

Daphne had treated those tales as sheer nonsense, a bedtime story cooked up by parents desperate for their children to behave. Only now, she realized she would have preferred the boogeyman who stole children over the real thing.

The man scoffed, muttering bitterly to himself. "Of course they would say that. Isn't it so convenient? Liars to the bone…"

"Excuse me?"

"If that's what people in Reaweth believe, your country's education system needs an overhaul… Princess, open your eyes and take a good look at me."

He tilted her chin up again, amber eyes meeting hers. This time, she met his gaze head-on, and her heart, traitorous thing it was, skipped a beat. It was entirely unfair for someone so nasty to have a face this handsome.

She didn't want to but Daphne did look at him. And what a sight for sore eyes the man was.

His eyes were deep, swirling pools of what resembled liquid gold. Paired with his rosy lips and pale skin that reminded her of the powdery snow outside, Daphne wouldn't even have been surprised if he claimed himself to be an angel.

Well, or at least, maybe if she hadn't had the luxury of interacting with him yet she would've thought of him as one. With a personality like that, him being an angel was entirely impossible.

"Does this look like the face of an old man to you? Or maybe you hoped for an old man who would die on top of you during your wedding night? You certainly have strange tastes for a princess."

Daphne spluttered, her face turning red.

"What?! How dare you― I would never―! The nerve―"

He rubbed his hand over the small of her back, a mockery of comfort.

"Unfortunately, if you want a wizened old man, you'll have to stick with me for the next fifty years. That's not a lot of time. I'm sure I'll grow on you. Eventually."

"Fifty years… Over my dead body! I'm not marrying you even if you're the king!" Daphne yelled, infuriated. She would rather marry a tentacle monster than him. Her hand moved to slap him.

King Atticus's eyes flashed a brighter gold. Daphne's body froze, as though immobilized by another power. She wanted to speak, to yell and scream, but then her mouth refused to move. She couldn't form a single word.

"My dear, this is not up to you," King Atticus said woefully, but his eyes were sharp and amused. "We're holding our wedding now. You can show up in tears or with a smile on your face, it will not change the outcome."

Daphne blinked furiously.

"Servants, get the priest and the hall ready," King Atticus ordered. To Daphne's surprise, an entire bevy of maids appeared and scattered, except for one.

"Your Highness," she asked meekly. "Are you going to undo the enchantment? Or let the princess clean up?"

"No. She's so much trouble. Can't have her drowning herself in the bathtub."

Daphne scoffed a little in disbelief, though that was the limit of what she could do.

King Atticus pretended not to notice. "Do be a dear, Maisie, and just help her change into her wedding gown and brush her hair." King Atticus shrugged nonchalantly.

Daphne glared at him, willing him to turn to ashes. He smirked.

"But I'll let you talk, Wife. It'll be boring otherwise."

"You scoundrel, you'll pay for this!" Daphne yelled the moment she could. Said scoundrel only waved a mocking goodbye.

"Princess Daphne, I'll escort you to your rooms to change," Maisie said, and Daphne was forced to grit her teeth and endure the sheer indignity of being carted around by a maid as though she was a huge sack of potatoes.

She was quickly deposited in a room.

"We are so sorry about this," one maid said. "His Highness usually isn't like this."

"Hard to believe," Daphne muttered indignantly under her breath.

The maids simply winced and smiled, unable to comment any further. Daphne wasn't sure if it was because they didn't wish to entertain her or didn't dare to. After all, the princess wouldn't be surprised if heads started rolling due to wagging tongues.

Daphne was quickly squeezed, primmed, and accessorized like a doll within moments. She had a delicate white gown on, a dress that miraculously fit her perfectly. It had long, sheer bell sleeves and delicate lace around the bodice of the dress. Her hair had been brushed and styled into a neat bun, a small tiara resting at the top of her head.

The maids hadn't even bothered to ask Daphne about her impression of the outfit. As soon as everything was in place, Daphne was rushed out again. This time, the maids carried her down a long corridor and passed multiple twists and turns, coming to a stop in front of two grand doors.

"Best of luck, Your Highness," Maisie said with a smile. The maid conveniently ignored the look of sheer horror that had caught Daphne's facial features in a death grip. "May you have a blessed marriage."

"Wait… Wait, no―!"

The large doors swung open before Daphne could properly word her sentence. A flash of glaring light nearly blinded Daphne as she blinked, turning her head away from the door. The sound of trumpets blaring and the organ playing the classic wedding march immediately sounded. Above all, she heard the voice of the herald announcing her arrival.

Squinting through her lashes, Daphne caught sight of the handsome ― albeit devilish ― man at the end of the altar. Even from this distance, she couldn't miss the tilt of his lips, curved into a smirk.

"Presenting Her Royal Highness, Princess Daphne of Reaweth!"


Prequel Available!

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

Load failed, please RETRY

Regalos

Regalo -- Regalo recibido

    Estado de energía semanal

    Desbloqueo caps por lotes

    Tabla de contenidos

    Opciones de visualización

    Fondo

    Fuente

    Tamaño

    Gestión de comentarios de capítulos

    Escribe una reseña Estado de lectura: C1
    No se puede publicar. Por favor, inténtelo de nuevo
    • Calidad de escritura
    • Estabilidad de las actualizaciones
    • Desarrollo de la Historia
    • Diseño de Personajes
    • Antecedentes del mundo

    La puntuación total 0.0

    ¡Reseña publicada con éxito! Leer más reseñas
    Votar con Piedra de Poder
    Rank 200+ Clasificación PS
    Stone 69 Piedra de Poder
    Denunciar contenido inapropiado
    sugerencia de error

    Reportar abuso

    Comentarios de párrafo

    Iniciar sesión

    tip Comentario de párrafo

    ¡La función de comentarios de párrafo ya está en la Web! Mueva el mouse sobre cualquier párrafo y haga clic en el icono para agregar su comentario.

    Además, siempre puedes desactivarlo en Ajustes.

    ENTIENDO