Bab 3: The Wedding

'This cannot be happening to me,' Daphne thought dazedly. She couldn't move her legs, but that didn't stop her body from gliding down the aisle via a supernatural force. She narrowed her eyes, glaring hotly at the culprit as the distance between her and her soon-to-be husband steadily shrank.

Out of the hordes of servants watching this spectacle, no one blinked an eye at the fact that she was here under duress, getting married under the coercion of supernatural forces. If her groom could do this to her, an actual princess, who knows what the servants had to endure?

Said culprit merely continued smirking.

"Why do you look so delighted?" Daphne grumbled. She could not be less amused.

"Someone has to be for this wedding, and it certainly isn't going to be you," he replied glibly, holding her hand with his own, larger one. For such a cold-hearted scoundrel, he certainly had warm hands.

"What makes you think I'll accept this farce of a wedding?"

"You have no choice," King Atticus said. "Agree to marry me, or I'll kill everyone in this hall and marry you anyway. The choice is yours."

"You―" Her blood grew cold when she heard the callous words from his lips. "They are your people! You're their king. You would kill them for this?"

"Like you said, I'm their king. If our marriage doesn't happen, they'll die anyway. It's only a matter of time. Would you have their deaths on your conscience, Princess Daphne?"

If Daphne were calmer, she would find those words suspicious. As it was, she was shaking from unrestrained rage. "Don't you dare blame me for your actions! I pity your people, for having to live under such a capricious and cruel king."

King Atticus only looked more amused. He turned to the priest, who looked like he couldn't wait to escape from the hall. Daphne could understand. She gave him a pleading look, hoping that he could help her stop this wedding.

She was sorely disappointed.

"We are gathered here today to witness the joining of hearts and minds… "

Daphne closed her eyes in desperate prayer. She missed the fond look her husband gave her, and the way he gestured to the priest to hurry up. Instinctively, Daphne reached up, thankful that her new husband had at least given her this bit of mobility back. Yet, her body felt like it was doused in cold water when her fingers touched nothing but the bare skin of her neck.

That's right. She had forgotten. King Atticus had ripped the last bit of familiarity left on her body and smashed it to the ground like it was nothing more than glass.

The realization of her destroyed necklace sent Daphne into further despair. After all, that necklace wasn't just an accessory― like most jewelry on the continent, they were supposed to be charms, talismans that would aid them in their magic. And although Daphne had never been adept at it, that little trinket still made her feel safe. It was, after all, a gift from her sister.

"...to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health…" the priest continued.

Daphne could see clear as day the tick of irritation that flashed across the king's face, and with each passing word, increasingly so. The vein that throbbed at his temple nearly sent Daphne into a giggling fit.

Why was he so impatient? Did he have somewhere else to be after this?

So enraptured in her stupor, she hadn't even noticed that King Atticus had already said his vows. And when the priest addressed her, calling her for the second time, Daphne snapped back to reality.

"Your Highness?" the priest prompted.

Daphne blinked. Dumbly, her lips parted but no words left. She couldn't find her own voice, glancing back and forth between the priest and the king.

"Pardon?"

"Do you, Princess Daphne Amelia Molinero, take His Majesty, King Atticus Rowan Heinvres, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

The hall was drenched in silence. Daphne was sure that everyone could hear her heart thundering in her chest without even having to strain their ears too hard.

She wasn't sure why but Daphne's first instinct was to turn towards King Atticus. Her eyes met his instantly, gazes colliding.

For some insane reason, Daphne felt her heart calm down. The gaze in his eyes were soft, mellow, and unlike anything else she had ever associated him with ever since she had first heard tales of this cruel king.

The pooling gold in his eyes was hypnotizing. His irises reminded Daphne of the stars that dotted the sky at night, or of the glow of the sun when evening casts it onto the horizon.

She was so mesmerized in his gaze that it was only when the hall erupted into boisterous cheers had she finally snapped out of it.

"And now I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Wait… had she already said 'I do'?

"Wait―" Daphne murmured, looking around. "I didn't―"

"You did," King Atticus swiftly cut in. Daphne glared sharply at him, her blood boiling when she connected the dots.

"You! You used magic on me," she accused angrily.

Her new husband had the gall to look affronted at being accused. "Honored priest, did you see me casting any spell on my bride?"

"No I did not, Your Highness," the priest said placidly.

Daphne gritted her teeth. They were all liars and scoundrels.

"You heard him."

Before Daphne could react, she felt a pair of warm lips pressed against her own. The kiss was not intrusive― there was no tongue or teeth or any of that disgusting action she had heard the maids of the Reawethen castle had gossiped about.

Instead, it was just a chaste kiss, a brief moment where their lips were in contact. Yet, that brief second was all that was needed. Warmth rushed through her body. Immediately, where their skins touched, Daphne felt as though it was on fire ― in the best way possible ― as if there were flowers blooming where he touched her.

The feeling confused her, for she rejected and repelled the man with all her might in her heart. Yet… maybe it was just the power of it having been her first kiss. It felt like for a second, she had been cast into paradise.

But that second came and went and as soon as Atticus pulled back, Daphne snapped back into reality. That was the second time within the last hour the king had done something against her desires.

Meanwhile, Atticus only beamed when he saw his new wife's angry face.

"Now that the ceremony is over, we should proceed to the most important part of any wedding."

"I'm not hungry," Daphne bit out. Her stomach was now twisted with dread and indignant anger― she doubted she could swallow anything bigger than a prune. "You can have the banquet without me."

"Banquet? Surely you jest, my sweet wife. We're not having a banquet."

"Then what are you referring to? What can be more important than…"

Her voice trailed off, a horrible conclusion forming in her mind. Her body trembled and shook and her eyes widened with fear.

A look of utmost amusement flashed across his handsome face.

"It seems like you've guessed it." Atticus turned to his servants and declared, "Prepare the bedding chamber! I wish to consummate my marriage immediately."

Prequel Available!

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

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Pilih

KIRIM HADIAH

Bab 4: Wedding Night

"C-Consummate?!" Daphne all but squeaked, her voice cracking in disbelief as she echoed the word she just heard― the only word she heard.

"Is that so hard to digest, my beloved wife?" Atticus questioned, the corner of his lips raised in a slight curl. "Isn't that something that every average, ordinary couple would do?"

He leaned forward, bending down slightly so that they could meet eye to eye. Daphne leaned back as far as she could. If she hadn't, their lips would've met again.

A small part of Daphne wasn't too against it. After all, King Atticus was remarkably handsome―

'No!' Daphne squeezed her eyes shut. 'Snap out of it!' she chided herself internally.

The man was indeed handsome, she would give him that. But he was also rude, annoying, and a persistently disrespectful, pigeon-livered―

"Why is your face so red, my darling?" Atticus continued to ask, wearing a lazy grin as he watched her sulk. "Surely you wouldn't abhor the idea as much as you seem to show?"

"In case you don't remember, Your Majesty, I was not and am not a willing participant of this marriage. " Daphne smiled with all her teeth. "And besides, no one would classify you as average and ordinary."

King Atticus smiled. "So you do think I'm extraordinary. What high praise, it almost makes my heart flutter."

Before she could slap him for his impudent comment, he continued.

"The whole hall heard you say your vows, sunshine." Atticus dared to reach forward, playing with a lock of her hair in his hand, twirling it around his finger. "You are now my queen whether you like it or not. And ultimately, you will still be by my side whether you like it or not."

"Your Majesty!" A guard suddenly appeared, saluting the king.

"Speak."

"The room has been prepared as per your instructions."

Before Daphne could react, Atticus scooped her up in his arms bridal-style, an arm under her knees and another supporting her back. She was swiftly lifted into the air and hulled out of the hall, a collective gasp ringing throughout the hall as the crowd watched their king and new queen practically disappear in a cloud of dust.

"Put me down!" She protested, but of course she was ignored.

They went past a few different corridors which all looked the same to Daphne. And when they finally came to the last door at the end of the hallway, Atticus unceremoniously kicked it open, causing her to panic. That door was made out of heavy wood, and it was dented by one mere kick. If he used his strength on her in bed, her bones would shatter immediately. She immediately squirmed, trying to escape.

He tightened his arms around her as he strode into the room. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you."

She had half-expected him to be rough. Yet, Atticus gently laid her down on the silky sheets before reaching for her shoes. Carefully, he helped her to remove them without another word, placing them against the wall and out of the way.

"What are you doing?" Daphne asked, wrinkling her nose in suspicion. "Why are you suddenly so… so…"

Gentle.

That was what she wanted to say. Yet, the word was caught in her throat.

"Hmm?" he hummed, looking up. In the dim light, Atticus's eyes reminded Daphne of a wild animal― wild and ravenous.

"Can I not help my lovely wife get comfortable in our own bed?" Atticus asked.

He reached up, loosening his own clothing. One by one, each piece of fabric fell from his body until all that was left was a loose white top with a very low collar. Daphne's eyes dropped down, betraying her by stealing a glance at his broad, firm chest.

She caught a slight glimpse of his sculpted figure, tantalizingly hidden only by a piece of sheer white fabric. But before she could see more, a finger was propped under her chin, lifting gently so that now her gaze met the king's.

"Eyes are up here, sunshine." He chuckled.

Atticus leaned forward, sending Daphne quickly scrambling back in a futile attempt to create distance between them. However, her back soon came into contact with the head of the bed frame, rudely reminding her that she now had nowhere else to run.

So instead of running, Daphne looked for a weapon. Her eyes flitted back and forth around her immediate vicinity until they landed on the bronze candelabra that was placed right next to the bed. She reached for it and gripped it tightly in her hold, poised and ready to strike.

"Is that necessary?" the king asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't exactly fancy the idea of fornicating with a man I am not in love with."

"Most married couples aren't in love, especially kings and queens," Atticus dryly replied. "And, correction, we are husband and wife. We should 'fornicate' intensely and frequently, for the good of our people."

"Frequently?! You must be daft. I see― you just want children. Well, since I'm your wife, I'll let you adopt all the children you want for your lineage! There's no need for consummation." She wielded the candelabra in front of her protectively, her knuckles turning white.

At her words, he chuckled darkly. "My my, are you so sheltered to believe that children are the only reasons for consummation?"

"Why else would anyone have bedroom relations?" Daphne demanded, her cheeks red hot.

She knew. Of course she did. There were more than a hundred whispers from the maids whenever they thought that no one else was within listening range. It was just that Daphne had never dared dream of it.

Could anyone even imagine? She was a princess! These vulgar gossip should've never made it to her ears. However, God made women curious creatures.

"And ― if it were for children ― what if I wanted children born from true royal blood?" Atticus hummed, his voice almost sing-song.

Daphne gulped, wishing away the bitter taste in her mouth as she prepared for what she was about to say next.

"Then take concubines, lovers, if you must."

"And you would allow that, my queen?" Atticus teased. "If I were to spend the night with another woman in bed," he moved forward, "tumbling in the sheets," another inch closer, "our breaths hot and heavy…"

Daphne took in a sharp breath when Atticus edged in nearer. Their faces were barely inches apart now. She was so close that his gaze was all that she could see, and as like before, she was entranced.

Just a bit. A bit more and their lips would've touched. But as much as her mind fought against the thought, her body couldn't seem to obey.

"Tell me, my sunshine," Atticus continued, "would you truly be okay with seeing your husband with someone else intimately?"