It was absolutely infuriating.
Daphne no longer knew if she was just mad at the man or if everything he did was truly against all that was right with the world. However, no matter what it was that Atticus did ― even breathe ― it sent Daphne's eyelid twitching and hands itching.
She had been led out of the inner courtyard that she had been walking rounds in and towards the back exit where the stables were. There, she waited for a few minutes with the quiet castle help until, eventually, her knight in shining armor arrived on a white horse.
Only, he wasn't really a knight nor dressed like one.
Atticus didn't look very different from the way he was dressed previously, other than the new brown vest he had added on top of his linen shirt. His hair was tousled, still slightly damp from what Daphne assumed was a bath. The materials he had chosen for his clothing were much simpler too, closer to what actual peasants would wear. But despite the fact that he was stripped of all the glitz and glamor, he was still a sight for sore eyes.
'It's witchcraft,' Daphne thought to herself, unable to help but sneer as she watched him trotter over on the horse.
"Your disguise isn't realistic," she said out loud to him when he was near enough. "No peasant is this good-looking. It's unrealistic."
"So you admit." Atticus smiled coyly, stretching out one hand for her to take.
Daphne was about to grasp his hand when she heard his words, pausing. She cast him a curious look as his beam widened.
"You admit that I am good-looking?"
Immediately, Daphne scowled, swatting his hand away instead of holding it. To Atticus's and the nearby servants' surprise, she easily mounted the horse on her own without needing the help of anyone else. Sat snugly behind Atticus, Daphne huffed.
"Whatever floats your boat, Your Majesty," she said patronizingly.
"And how would you know what realistic peasants would look like?" Atticus continued, ignoring the death glares she shot him. "Have you been looking at many peasant men? I thought that the glass princess of Reaweth had never left the royal palace. Princess, do you have something to confess?"
If looks could kill, even the great king of Vramid would be six feet under with the way Daphne was shooting daggers at him.
"Let's. Go."
Atticus's laughter was melodious. He raised the reins of the horse, prepared to send it into a gallop. Right before, he cast a look over his shoulder to glance at the princess sulking behind him.
"You might want to hang on a little tighter, sunshine."
"I will be fine," Daphne replied, clutching onto the saddle instead. She knew what Atticus was implying and she didn't wish to give him that satisfaction.
"Don't say I didn't warn you." The words were sing-song. "Hyah!"
The second the horse shot off, Daphne lurched forward with a squeal, her arms immediately wrapping around Atticus's firm torso. She pressed her face tightly against his back, basically hanging on for her dear life. She had ridden horses before and she was pretty adept at it too. However, they had never gone at such speeds, especially when she wasn't the one behind the reins.
With the thundering of the hooves against the ground and the wind that whipped across her ears, Daphne barely heard Atticus's chuckle.
The servants that were left in the dust, on the other hand, all stared wide-eyed at their king― a man that they had never seen smile so genuinely before.
***
They reached the outskirts of the town in no time at all because Atticus rode horses like a madman. Daphne didn't want to cling to him, but she didn't want to end up as an ugly splat on the floor either.
"Never again," Daphne wheezed as he finally got the horse to stop at a nondescript stable.
"Alright there, sunshine?" Atticus asked, easily dismounting from the horse and tying its reins to the post. He smirked up at her and offered a hand to help her down. "You look pale."
"I'm. Fine." Daphne gritted out, pointedly ignoring his outstretched hand. But her attempts to get herself down without help were unsuccessful. The horse was taller than what she was used to, and her limbs were still wobbly. Atticus snorted, and simply plucked her off from the saddle and planted her in the snowbank, ignoring her outraged noises.
"If I waited for you to get down, spring would arrive. Come on, sunshine."
Before Daphne could respond, Atticus slid his fingers between hers. She froze, unused to the sensation. His hand was big, much more so than she had guessed from sight alone. And the warmth it radiated rivaled the chilly cold of winter. It was cozy to have her freezing fingers tucked in his hold, protected from the wind.
She didn't move, scared that if she did, the spell would be broken. Who knew that the mere touch of a hand could be such a comforting thing? Though, Atticus didn't notice how the princess had been rooted to her spot. He simply tugged her towards the village path, where they joined the couples and families on the way to the fair.
The colorful tents that Daphne spotted from the castle soon came into view. Daphne's nose twitched; the winter air was crisp and cold, but Daphne was focused on the fragrant aromas. A quick glance showed that there were vendors selling food and drink. Roasted potatoes drenched in gravy, grilled meat seasoned with spice, sugared candy on sticks…
Her mouth watered.
"Are you hungry?" Atticus asked. "You did spend one hour wandering around the maze like a concussed duck."
"No it's fine, I'm perfectly well, thank you," Daphne said primly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right.
Her stomach growled, loud enough for both parties to hear. Daphne flushed in embarrassment.
"Guess your stomach is more honest than your mouth." Atticus whistled cheerfully. "I'll pick something for you to try."
"I'll get it myself!" Daphne declared. This was her first time at a fair, and she'd be damned if she let Atticus haul her around without her input.
"As you wish, wife" Atticus bowed gallantly, causing some onlookers to giggle at his theatrics. Women especially, tittered behind their hands.
"Who is he? A traveler?"
"I want to know which village he's from!"
"So handsome!"
"Ah… what a pity he's already married."
"It's always the good ones that are taken…"
Daphne rolled her eyes at the whispers while she went to the grilled meat stall. If these women wanted him, she'd hand him over without a second thought. Since he had gone to the trouble of kidnapping her, she would even wrap him up in a burlap sack as repayment.
Meanwhile, Atticus idly strolled behind his wife, his hands in his pockets as he whistled a jaunty tune. His little wife was hilarious when miffed.
"What would you like?"
"A… sweetened spiced ham, please. And a roasted smoked bun. And a slice of grilled pork!" Everything looked delicious, and Daphne wanted one of each.
"Sure! That'll be 50 coppers."
Daphne reached into her pockets and froze.
She forgot to bring any money with her. And it wasn't as though she had any money, being a prisoner.
"You can't pay?" The shopkeeper's face turned dark. "Then get out of the line!"
"Darling, why did you walk so fast?" Atticus exclaimed loudly, drawing everyone's attention. He jangled his coin purse in front of her tauntingly. It sounded heavy.
"Forgetting something?"
Check out the prequel: The Hidden King's Stolen Wife
Daphne laughed awkwardly while shooting daggers with her eyes. "Thank you for reminding me, darling." She stressed the last word, basically spitting it out like it was a mouthful of venom.
Reaching up, she snatched the pouch from Atticus's hands. He simply let her, spreading his fingers casually the second she had a firm grip on the coin bag, grinning.
"Aren't you pretending to be a peasant?" Daphne hissed in his ear as she fished for coins in the pouch. "Stop flaunting your purse!"
"If we were real peasants, we'd be working here instead," Atticus retorted cheerfully.
The man's face grew darker as he overheard the comment.
"Mister," Atticus said cheerfully, "don't yell at my wife. She was just excited to try out your new recipes."
There was a note of warning in his voice. His gaze darkened.
"Come to think of it, didn't this amount of food only cost 35 coppers last year? What happened?"
Daphne watched as the vendor's Adam's apple rolled up and down. A bead of perspiration trickled down his temple despite the cooling atmosphere.
"Supplies are getting expensive," the vendor said, looking anywhere but at Atticus. "Booth rents are also much steeper this year as compared to the last festival. We store vendors have our hands tied too, mister."
"Oh, really?" Atticus smiled.
He nodded at Daphne, prompting her to hand the coins over to the store vendor, who all but snatched the money as he chucked her purchases at her. No doubt he had something to hide and wanted them gone as soon as possible, Daphne deduced as much. She silently examined Atticus's behavior. However, he didn't do much, simply thanking the store vendor before reaching for Daphne's spare hand, gently leading her away from the stall.
"How's the food?" he asked once they were a short distance away, right as Daphne bit into the grilled pork.
"Surprisingly mundane," Daphne answered, her nose wrinkling. She held out the money pouch, returning it to its rightful owner. "It smells much better than it tastes."
"I'm not surprised," Atticus commented knowingly, taking the bag of coins. He leaned in and took a bite out of the food, licking the sauce from the edge of his mouth. He made a face, seemingly in agreement with Daphne's opinions. "If the other vendors are the same, I might have to get Jonah to rehaul the store vendors of this fair."
"Dishonest vendors?" Daphne asked. She had her own guesses.
Atticus merely nodded, choosing not to reply.
In front of them, there was a mother who bought only one stick of food from a different stall to share among the family. Daphne watched as her children, a boy and a girl, squabbled over the sole stick.
"No, this is mine!"
"You ate it already! You ate two bites!"
"You took three!"
"My bites were tiny!"
"They were not!"
"Children, please." Their mother sighed. "If you can't share, we're going straight home."
"Mom!" The children whined in dismay. "Can we have one more? Please please please?"
The woman shook her head, and her children fell silent in disappointment. Daphne didn't miss the hurt on the woman's face, and how she patted her pockets. Clearly she didn't have enough money to buy enough for three people, and she decided not to eat so her children could have more.
Daphne's heart ached. This was a struggle unfamiliar to her. She had to help.
"I'll buy you one." To her surprise, she wasn't the only one who spoke. Daphne whirled around to find that Atticus had already produced several silver pennies for the shopkeeper.
"Two portions please! One for my darling wife, the other for the two cute children waiting in front of me."
"Oh! I couldn't possibly―" the mother replied, flustered by the sudden generosity. Then she saw Atticus and her face promptly grew five times redder.
How could such a handsome man exist? And he's so kind-hearted too!
His wife was also a great beauty and she watched their clasped hands with no small amount of wistfulness. What a loving couple they made!
Next to him, Daphne was struck dumb with astonishment. Atticus, doing good deeds? No, that could not be true, but her eyes didn't lie. Atticus handed her one of the grilled meat portions and gave the other to the young girl.
"Thank you, sir!" They both chorused, staring at him in reverence. Daphne meanwhile, stared at Atticus with great suspicion.
"Thank you for your generosity. I really can't repay you." The mother was helpless in front of her children's happiness.
"Consider it Yuletide generosity. I know what it's like to feel hungry as a child," Atticus said, causing Daphne to raise an incredulous eyebrow. He was a king, most likely a prince before he rose to the throne. What lies was he spouting? "No child deserves that."
The mother smiled at them both. "I'm sure any child you and your wife have would be very well-loved indeed!"
Daphne nearly dropped her food on the ground as she choked on the fresh bite of meat. She coughed violently as Atticus gently patted her back in an attempt to soothe her.
"My wife is expecting, actually," Atticus smoothly responded, causing Daphne to cough even harder. "That's why we decided to drop by the festival a little earlier this year. Cravings, you know?"
When Daphne had finally cleared her airways of the lodge of food, she glowered heavily at her brazzen husband. The hand that was still in his tightened, squeezing his palm as hard as she could. She knew it did nothing much, judging by the passive look on his face, but Daphne found great joy in causing him even the slightest bit of inconvenience.
"Oh my! That explains the radiance on her face!" the woman crooned, delighted. Her eyes practically had stars in them. Daphne wondered if she had sight problems. "There's a stall further down that is selling children's toys and clothing. Perhaps you both could check it out. They have quite a few beautiful knick-knacks, all handmade, apparently."
"That's a wonderful suggestion." Atticus beamed. "Thank you. We will have a look at it for sure."
When the woman walked off with her two children, Daphne turned sharply, hissing. "What are you babbling about now, with all these lies―"
"Sunshine, I will be simply elated to make a truth out of that lie, if you're willing to," Atticus smoothly cut in. He wore a debonair smile, tilting his head slightly to one side.
"Ugh!" Annoyed, Daphne shook off Atticus's hand, aggressively biting into the rest of the food that had started to turn cold. All the while, she could hear Atticus's laughter trailing after her like a ghost of the past that could never be banished.
Check out the prequel: The Hidden King's Stolen Wife
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