章 20: A Piece of Junk

"Oh, piss off." Daphne scowled. There was no need to be polite to her captor, and besides, the frequent falls have made her testy. That smirk on his face was also nipping at her patience. "Do you have nothing to do all day but torment me?"

"Why would I do anything else?" Atticus retorted. He shrugged. "Your escape attempts are a lot more entertaining than my minister's ideas for the ball. Please, get back on the horse. I'm looking forward to more performances. Up you go, yip yip."

And that infuriating man had the nerve to cross his arms, cocking his head expectantly after talking to her like she was a pet dog.

"Come on, get back on! Sable is waiting!"

Hearing her name, Sable turned to look at him and trotted over. Atticus broke into a handsome smile as he petted the horse, fishing out a slice of carrot from his pocket.

"Awww my dearie, did this clumsy oaf hurt you when you threw her off? Poor baby, your back must be so tired from carrying her."

Sable neighed, as though in agreement.

"Excuse me? I hurt her?" Daphne cried out, giving the horse a betrayed look. "To think I've even fed you apples!"

Sable blinked, the very picture of innocence as she continued to nuzzle Atticus, hopeful for more treats.

"The loyalty of my subjects cannot be bought so easily. Sable is one of my favorite horses, of course she would listen to me over you."

Daphne begrudgingly accepted his point. She had only known Sable for a few days. At least King Atticus had good taste in horses.

"Sunshine, now that I see it, you have two choices. Continue your desperate attempts to escape, or… you can come with me as we try to figure out your latent magical abilities."

Daphne blinked, not believing her ears.

"You… you think I have magic?"

"Sunshine, you're all sorts of magical." Atticus drawled out as he looked at her intently. The look in his eyes was smoldering, with his gaze feeling like it could set fire to her skin wherever it touched, which she didn't know was a good thing or not.

Daphne pursed her lips. It sounded like he was making fun of her.

"I was right next to you when the toy started glowing," Atticus elaborated dryly when he realized his wife wasn't moving an inch. "It had to be magic, or we're both suffering from joint hallucinations. Rare, but not impossible."

"Fine. I get your point," Daphne said as she walked towards him. "How will you test me? I've been tested periodically through the years, but all of them gave the same result."

"Reaweth doesn't have a monopoly on magic," Atticus said, his eyes dark. Somehow, the air around him crackled, as though he was a lightning cloud ready to storm. "Whatever they can do, Vramid can do better."

"That's not true," Daphne said, feeling a need to defend her homeland. "Everyone knows harnessing gems as magical conduits originated from Reaweth. My ancestors were the original mages."

Atticus straight up snorted at her words. "And I'm sure your family farts roses and shits out gold too."

"You!" Daphne pointed an angry finger at him. "Don't be disrespectful!"

"My apologies." Atticus rolled his eyes. "I meant, your family's farts smell fragrant and they can use their shit to pad their treasury, how's that?"

"Urghhh!" Daphne scowled. This man was incorrigible. "Just because you phrased it all prim and proper doesn't mean it's any better!"

Her infuriation seemed to have delighted Atticus, for his lips curved into a smile.

"How did they test you? If you don't mind me asking."

Now it was Daphne's turn to roll her eyes. "You didn't care much for permission all those other times," she grumbled under her breath. Yet, she still answered his question. "I was eight when they made me take the first test. And I failed."

"Details, sunshine. How else am I supposed to help you?"

"I was tested two years earlier than the norm because of my older brother," she continued. "My older brother apparently could manifest fireballs when he was just five. Thus, my parents had high hopes for me."

"Ah, crown prince Alistair of Reaweth." Atticus clicked his tongue. "They continued testing you after, you said?"

Daphne nodded. "I could've been a late bloomer." She shrugged. "But when my sisters were born and one by one, they, too, could use magic, it became obvious that I wasn't going to start blooming anytime soon."

It seemed like everyone in the family was a magical prodigy. Some could light a candle with a flick of their fingers as a toddler, others could conjure butterflies from flames with just a burp or a giggle.

Daphne had never heard of any royalty that couldn't manifest the barest hint of magical ability as an adult― then again, she hadn't mingled with royalty from other kingdoms. No one wanted to speak to the poor, untalented princess who couldn't conjure up a single element.

"And they just gave up on you." It was a sentence, not a question. A dark look flashed across Atticus's face, almost as though he was angry. Though, Daphne wasn't sure why. "And you just let them?"

"It's hard to think anything else when all you've been told in life is that you're a failure," Daphne murmured. She took a deep breath, forcefully peeking up. "But I'm over it. I know now that my magical abilities will not define my worth. I'll just have to find something else I'm good at and they'll see me for more than that."

"You don't need their approval for anything you do in life, Daphne."

Daphne's gaze snapped towards Atticus sharply. That was the first time he had spoken her name with so much sincerity. She liked it, she decided. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, especially when he wasn't speaking in a patronizing manner.

"Of course," she said. For a moment, she had forgotten about her situation. He wasn't her captor, she wasn't his prisoner, and they weren't kings or princesses from rivaling kingdoms. For a brief moment, Atticus was just someone that understood her. "Thank you."

He smiled. This time, it wasn't anything cunning or snarky. And that smile was so warm that it felt like a peck of sunshine.

"I have another question, though."

"What is it?"

Atticus furrowed his eyebrows. "If you are inept at using magic, why were you wearing that pendant on your first day here? You were reaching for it like it would aid you in battle."

"Oh! Oh." The mention of her necklace was a rude reminder of how it was utterly destroyed on her first night here. "Right. The one that you conveniently shattered. It was a gift from my sister. She said it would help me harness my magic quicker and I could use it to channel whatever latent magic I might have in times of need."

"What stone did you think it was, then?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Clear quartz." Daphne furrowed her eyebrows. "They help to release and regulate energy, right? Drusilla said it would help."

"It was a piece of junk," Atticus revealed. "No wonder you couldn't do any bit of magic."

Prequel Available!

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

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章 21: Do Me Up

Piece of junk…

Daphne's heart dropped as his words reverberated in her mind.

"How could this be? You must be lying." Daphne shook her head furiously.

"What reason do I have to lie to you?" Atticus pointed out. "If anything, I'd keep you powerless and ignorant. That'll make it easier to control and imprison you."

"Thank you for that consideration," Daphne replied, slightly appeased. "Could it be that clear quartz just wasn't the right stone for me?"

"Perhaps. I wouldn't know. The pendant wasn't made of clear quartz, to begin with."

Daphne's mouth fell open.

"Sorry to tell you this, sunshine," Atticus said, looking slightly pitying at her. "You were slinging around that bit of glass like it was a prized possession. You would have done more damage waving a stick."

"Glass?" Daphne repeated dumbly. "Then my sister…"

Her mind swirled at this new information. It would mean that Drusilla had gotten her something useless on purpose.

No, that couldn't be.

There was no way Drusilla would have done this to her. They may be half-sisters but she had always been the sister closest to her, and whenever someone insulted Daphne's lack of magical aptitude, Drusilla would immediately defend her, pointing out her other strengths.

Drusilla must have been taken advantage of by a swindler. Daphne nodded firmly to herself. Drusilla and Maisie were a lot alike, and it was entirely possible that a con man sold Drusilla a fake necklace, claiming that it would save Daphne's life.

"Someone really wanted you to remain useless," Atticus said. "Are you sure you can trust your sister?"

"Nonsense, my sister would never harm me. She must have been hoodwinked. Don't try to sour our relationship!" Daphne declared imperiously, even as her mind scolded Drusilla for not checking.

Daphne was her sister. Why didn't she care enough to make sure the necklace worked?

If the situation had been flipped, Daphne would have never given her a spoilt gift.

Atticus raised his hands, a smirk on his face. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. As it stands, your sister gave you a useless necklace, and your family never discovered your latent magical ability, yet they made you feel like a failure for their mistakes. If I were you, I'd be furious."

"I'm fine," Daphne said. "That's not important. They're my family. I can't be angry at them. It's fine."

"Funnily enough, I'd think being family is all the more reason to be angrier." Atticus mused, a faraway look in his eyes. "Strangers don't owe you a thing, but family does. They owed it to you to cherish you, to nurture you, to love you."

Daphne sucked in a deep breath. His words struck a chord in her, and she had to blink back tears that formed in her eyes.

She had never felt so seen, so acknowledged than at that moment… and it had to be by a man who kidnapped her. Not her siblings, not her parents, not her fiance. What a travesty.

"It's fine," Daphne repeated, now sounding more choked up than before. She had to change the topic before she burst into tears in front of him. "Now, can you test me for magic? Oh wait, I have to fast for a day first. And cleanse myself… Do you have a lake?"

Atticus stared at her blankly as though Daphne started neighing like Sable.

"...I'm guessing Vramid does things differently," Daphne said, after an awkward pause.

"Reawethens." Atticus rolled his eyes and grumbled. "What nonsense are they coming up with now? Next thing you know, they'll be making the next generation of kings walk naked through their capital."

"It's spiritual!" Daphne squawked. "You're supposed to rid yourself of earthly attachments!"

"It's hogwash," Atticus retorted. "We're testing for magic aptitude, not trying to fit you into last season's ball gowns. Go and starve yourself if you want, but don't blame me if there's no result."

Daphne fell into sulky silence.

Atticus was torn between the sudden urge to pinch those cheeks of hers or cuddle her until her frown vanished. No, that would be foolish. She was a prisoner, a chess piece. Not his companion.

"Alright. What should I do then? Walk out into the snow?" Daphne asked, curious as to what rituals Vramid had.

"You have to find a bear, and wrestle it," Atticus said seriously.

Daphne was just about to panic, but then she caught the tell-tale glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Liar! If you don't want to help me, don't waste my time!" She smacked his arm, upset at how he was treating it like a joke. Her blow barely landed, but Atticus pretended to be grievously wounded. She stormed off, only for Atticus to chase after her and pull on her arm.

"My apologies, sunshine. You make it too easy to tease you," Atticus said, and he actually sounded apologetic. "But there's no set ritual in Vramid. I'll just hand you certain stones found in the toys, and you'll hold them."

"That's it?"

"Well. The toys are in my office." Atticus gave her a roguish smirk. "If you can accept spending time alone with me in such an intimate setting…"

"Let's just go," Daphne said primly, excitement radiating through her. She was finally going to find out her true abilities!

Atticus led her easily to his office, pushing the door open.

There was not much light in there with the curtains down. Only a slight sliver of the setting sun's light slipped into the room, illuminating whatever was on Atticus's desk. Stones of all shapes and colors were scattered across his desk, freeform crystals that weren't polished nor properly handled yet.

The king smiled sheepishly. "Pardon the mess," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I've been a little busy."

"Is this where you've been disappearing to?" Daphne looked around, walking towards the table.

She picked up a random stone on the desk― aquamarine, she guessed. The beautiful pale blue looked just like the tides of the ocean. On her palm, the stone was cool to the touch. She couldn't help but be entranced by it.

"Maybe." Atticus's reply was purposely vague. "That's not the point."

His long strides quickly brought him across the room. He gestured to the couch. Daphne's line of sight trailed after where Atticus pointed, where she found a beautiful gown laid over the couch's backrest. The fabric was red, detailed with gold embroidery that almost shimmered even under the soft lighting.

Daphne couldn't help but gasp in awe.

"Get dressed," Atticus instructed.

"With you still here?" Daphne asked, eyeing him warily. There was a folding screen in the room, but it still made her uneasy.

Atticus rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, sunshine. If I wanted you naked, I wouldn't go through this much trouble."

Daphne scowled, quickly picked up the dress, and walked over to the folding screen. It was soft and silky, and she couldn't help but run an appreciative hand across the fabric, admiring how the light highlighted the gold embroidery.

"Are you done?" Atticus asked, just because he knew it would annoy her.

"Can you just wait?" Daphne retorted. Unknown to her, Atticus smirked at her peevish reply.

Daphne hurriedly slipped out of her old outfit and stepped into the new dress. Yet, when she got to the corset, she stopped short. She couldn't possibly lace it up on her own! But the only person available was…

"Uh… Atticus?" Daphne reluctantly called out, peeking out from the screen. "I might require your assistance."

Atticus, who was preoccupied with staring intensely at the box in his hand, jumped a little when he heard her voice. He snapped the box shut and shoved it into the drawer of his desk, clearing his throat. He then made his way over, frowning.

"What is it?"

"Could you call Maisie over?"

"Why? I'm sure she's busy." Atticus raised an eyebrow. "Is it that hard to put on a dress? "

Daphne breathed deeply, reminding herself to be calm.

"I need help with my dress," she said evenly, spinning around. She pulled her hair to the front, showing Atticus the loose laces of her corset.

"No offense, sunshine, but I don't exactly trust your little maid yet." Atticus folded his arms across his chest. "I can't let her into the room filled with possibly smuggled crystals that could be potentially dangerous in the hands of the wrong people."

Her face felt hot when she squeezed her next words out. "If you're so confident about this, then you can help me do up my laces."