Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 102: Ruined Dresses

Chapter 102: Ruined Dresses

"I... I...I’m sorry!" Daphne spluttered as she saw the men shoot her inquisitive looks, wondering what was the commotion. Meanwhile, the women sitting at her table looked less than pleased, with many of them glaring at her for ruining their outfits.

"Oh no, my dress!" Drusilla cried out in despair.

She quickly picked up the first napkin she could find, trying her best to dab away the wine stain on her dress. It was a futile effort. The more she tried to wipe it away, the faster the wine stain spread through the light pink fabric. In the end, the stain turned out bigger than it originally was, smudging all over the place until it looked like a blood stain from afar.

"How careless!" one of the women at the table cried out. "Our clothes are ruined!"

Several others began to throw out similar comments, each one of them more annoyed than the next.

Daphne cast a quick glance at the women around. They truly looked as though they had been through hell and back rather than attendees of an esteemed gathering. Some women had their hairstyles out of place, others had wine spilled over their chests as though they had just been fatally stabbed. Daphne was sure she only knocked over one glass of wine, but why were there so many casualties?

But most of all, all of the women present wore ugly frowns, scowls, or sneers, armed with matching glares that would’ve killed Daphne a thousand times over if looks could kill.

Even Queen Yvaine had her lips pursed tightly in frustration, though she didn’t say a word.

"Please don’t blame my sister," Drusilla began to say, still scrubbing uselessly at the stain, making zero to no impact. If anything, she was only making matters worse. "She didn’t mean to ruin all our clothes, I’m sure. Sister Daphne is just a little clumsy, that’s all!"

"Please," another woman scoffed, rolling her eyes, "do her intentions matter? Look at the state of your dress, Princess Drusilla! It was a beautiful gown, and I even heard that it was the Duke of Ravenspire that had that made for you!"

"I am sure Duke Kensington will understand." Drusilla bit her lip. Her eyes began to water, little teardrops appearing in her doe-like eyes, resembling crystals that were frozen in time. "It is just an item of clothing, no matter how beautiful it was. What matters is that my sister wasn’t hurt, since she was in the center of it all."

"You’re too kind for your own good, Princess Drusilla." The first woman sighed with a shake of her head. She then shot Daphne a stinky glare. "At least, definitely a much better candidate for the position of the queen of Vramid, as compared to a certain someone."

The women weren’t the only ones that had something to say.

"Daphne, you truly are my most useless sibling. Even after you’re married, you still bring shame to our family. Look at what you did to Drusilla’s dress!" Alistair exclaimed. The dress was now a dark brown color, as though she had rolled in the mud.

Some of the royalty wrinkled their noses; their minds automatically thinking of another, more foul-smelling, brown matter. However, all of them were too well-bred to point that out.

Alistair stormed over to the table, heedless of the glass shards littered all over the floor.

"Drusilla, are you alright? Are you hurt?" Alistair fussed over Drusilla frantically, looking all over her.

"Brother, I’m sorry to have made you worry," Drusilla said, her face a picture of innocence. "But truly, I am unharmed. It’s just a bit of wine. I didn’t step on the shards, unlike the servants. With how Sister Daphne had knocked over the servers, I thankfully didn’t even have food spilled on me like the others!"

Alistair gave a cursory glance at all the angry women, before turning back to Daphne. He gave her a depressingly familiar sneer, and Daphne felt the familiar sting of shame envelop her.

"Your Highnesses, please have the magnanimity to forgive this clumsy, useless sister of mine." Alistair gave a shallow bow to the women present.

Daphne foolishly thought that would be all, but her brother continued to speak.

"She has been incompetent since birth. I believe many of you present may have heard rumors of her ineptitude. As you can see, they aren’t exaggerated," Alistair said contemptuously.

His words were like a hail of needles, each delivering a painful prick on her skin. But Daphne still wanted to defend herself.

"It was because Drusilla was tugging at my hands! If she didn’t I wouldn’t have―"

"You’re still making excuses for yourself?" Alistair roared.

Daphne flinched, instinctively lifting her hands up in front of her as though it could shield her from the vitriol in his words. Alistair wasn’t done, he continued to berate her unkindly as everyone watched on in stunned silence.

How could a brother treat his own blood sister so harshly?

Meanwhile, Drusilla’s eyes lit up as she saw that Daphne’s fingers were bare. No wonder her sister was so adamant about not letting her see!

"I―"

"Brother, must you be so harsh?" Drusilla whispered, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. She had finally seen enough of Daphne’s humiliation. "It’s not like Sister Daphne wanted this to happen! You know that! I’m sure she’s very sorry!"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Drusilla, you don’t have to make excuses for her ineptitude. Why should you be apologizing on her behalf? If anyone should apologize for her, it’s her husband, standing right there like a statue."

True enough, Atticus was standing at the corner, watching the situation silently unfold. Knowing her temper, he had expected his wife to flare up and argue. Yet, Daphne had all but remained mum, leaving Atticus perplexed by her behavior. This was the same woman that protested so hotly about her own kidnapping but was somehow powerless in front of her siblings.

But no matter what, the walking vermin that was Alistair made a good point. Atticus immediately stepped forward with a practiced smile to smooth things over.

"Ladies, I’m truly sorry, but I’m sure we can all agree this was just an accident. I apologize on my wife’s behalf," Atticus said with a roguish grin, as he made eye contact with each and every one of them.

Several women blushed.

"But with that said..." He turned to Alistair and held up a hand, his smile immediately fell off his face. "You owe my wife an apology."