Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 100: Repulsive Brother

Chapter 100: Repulsive Brother

"Yes," Calarian replied, taking a swig of his mead. "Princess Drusilla Molinero. They should be half-sisters, if I’ve got my facts remembered correctly."

"Princess Drusilla’s reputation precedes her," Prince Nathaniel chimed in. He calmly picked up his wine glass, swirling the liquid before taking a small sip. "Rumors say that she mastered pyromancy at the age of twelve. She is also very near and dear to her older siblings, particularly Princess Daphne."

Near and dear, alright. Atticus scoffed at the thought.

Who knew what slimy plans this princess had in mind when she had given Daphne a glass necklace claiming it was a slab of clear quartz. Atticus could still remember the necklace in question. Small, plain, and unassuming. It was a very bad copy of an actual Reawethen treasure that was made of diamonds.

That cheap counterfeit hadn’t even used moissanite. It was a miracle Daphne actually believed it to be anything that could help her magically.

"My sweet sister is the beloved saintess of Reaweth," a new voice chimed in, causing heads to turn.

A man suddenly appeared, blond, tall, and looked like a copy of Daphne. He wore a suit of burgundy, decorated with gold threads and bronze detailing. Even though it was a casual dinner, this man was dressed to the nines and ready to impress. With a picture-perfect smile like his, it was hard not to if he had been facing a table of women.

Alas, he was ill-fatedly assigned to sit with the men, including his very displeased brother-in-law.

"Prince Alistair," Nathaniel greeted with a fair smile. "Good of you to join us. I almost thought you might not be showing up tonight."

"How could I not?" Alistair offered a dashing, debonair smile as he sat down on the other side of Nathaniel. "It has been a while since I last saw my younger sister―" he paused, casting a glance directly at Atticus, "―as well as to officially meet my new brother-in-law."

Atticus raised an eyebrow. "I believe we’ve already met before, Prince Alistair," he said. "Besides, my beloved wife has never brought you up in any of our conversations. I don’t believe there’s a need for further introductions beyond what has already been established."

"Of course she hasn’t," Alistair smoothly retorted. He picked up his wine glass but made no intention to drink. "It would be a miracle for her to hold a proper conversation without stuttering and mumbling like she was daft."

Atticus’s fists clenched tightly, his veins popping up due to the sheer force he had put into that grip. He was about to throw a few chinawares over into Alistair’s face when someone else beat him to it, albeit with a lot less violence.

"Is that so?" Nathaniel mused in a way as though he was genuinely intrigued. "I, for one, find Princess Daphne a wonderful person to converse with. She is somehow able to brighten up the room by simply existing there." He then turned his attention over to Atticus. "Wouldn’t you agree, King Atticus?"

For a moment, Atticus wasn’t sure who he wanted to deck more, Prince Nathaniel or Prince Alistair. Both seemed like a good idea. He would’ve gone through with it too if it weren’t for Jonah’s piercing hot glare from the other side of the room.

Killjoy.

"Of course he would think so," Calarian replied in Atticus’s stead. As happy-go-lucky the king of Xahan was, he had an eye for conflict. That meant that he could always snuff one out before it even began too. The older man laughed, fondly tapping the table. "King Atticus can hardly keep his eyes off his lady love."

"Speaking of which," Nathaniel asked, "will Queen Lavinia be joining us this year?"

"No." Calarian’s face fell. "My dearest Lavinia is heavily pregnant, and our physicians don’t recommend her to make the long journey. To say she was disappointed is an understatement." Calarian took another swig of wine. "What about you, King Atticus? Any children on the horizon?"

Atticus choked, nearly spitting out his wine.

Alistair merely scoffed, roughly stabbing into the piece of steak on his plate as though it was an enemy on the battlefield. The harsh sound of the metal knife against the chinaware screeched through the dining hall, abrasive and uncomfortable to listen to.

"King Atticus is a powerful man with strong magical lineage," Alistair began to say. The crooked curve of his lips was, however, a tell-tale sign that nothing good would be coming out of that mouth of his. "He surely is smart enough to know that he shouldn’t be sullying his family tree with a poor excuse for royalty who cannot even conjure a flame."

Nathaniel frowned. "Prince Alistair, that is your sister we’re talking about."

At the same time, Atticus said in a voice filled with warning, "That is my wife. Watch your words."

Alistair shrugged. "With the way Prince Nathaniel addresses Daphne, I wouldn’t assume her to be your queen. Or at least not for long. There are better, more prominent women out there who can serve you and your kingdom better. Drusilla, for example, could be a perfect queen for Vramid."

"Regardless of how Prince Nathaniel addresses her, Daphne is my queen and my rightful partner. I do not intend to take another bride."

"Lighten up, Your Majesty." Alistair laughed. He leaned back in his seat. "What is wrong with men fooling around with a woman in each hand? Furthermore, we’re men with power. There are plenty of women that would be more than willing to throw themselves into our arms if we give them the chance to do so."

It was unsurprising for such words to come out of Prince Alistair’s mouth. Everyone in the world and the next knew about the Reawethen crown prince’s frivolous ways. While he was already married and had a crown princess, Prince Alistair had numerous rumors of his affairs thrown out into the wide beyond. Stories of women that he had dated and abandoned were aplenty, some of which even claimed to have carried his children.

Atticus’s skin crawled in disgust. He could feel himself turning just a little dumber just by conversing with someone as vile and repulsive as Prince Alistair.

The obsidian set in his ring began to glow a dark purple. But before Atticus could tap into it and strangle the life out of his brother-in-law for all the revolting things he had said about Daphne, the sound of shattered glass quickly grasped all of their attention to the other side of the room.

Atticus watched with horrified amusement as the servers stumbled against each other, some of them dropping their plates of food on the royalty they were meant to serve. Women screamed and shrieked.

Finally, something entertaining was happening.

He idly wondered what could have happened, but the next thing he saw froze his smile. It was Daphne, standing right in the middle of the chaos with a terrified look on her face.

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