Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 106: A Friendly Corner

Chapter 106: A Friendly Corner

Prince Nathaniel’s question left Daphne speechless. She could not find her voice, merely staring forlornly at her cake in despair. Her lips were parted, gaping open and closing again and again as if she was a fish out of the water, desperately trying to breathe.

In the end, it was the crown prince’s chuckle that cut the awkward tension between them.

"Apologies, Princess Daphne," he said. "I shouldn’t have asked something like that. It’s not my place to pry."

"It’s not that," she finally said, looking away from her plate.

When met with Nathaniel’s peaceful expression, Daphne cursed herself silently. He didn’t rush her and simply patiently waited for whenever Daphne was ready to speak.

Raxuvia truly was a cursed place. She had already made so many errors and caused so many faults ever since the journey had started.

"My siblings... they didn’t mean it." Her defense for them was weak.

They did. She knew very well they did.

A part of Daphne wished that everyone knew how horridly they had treated her even though they were bound by blood. Even though the same content flowed through all of their veins, Alistair had always hated her, along with the rest of her brothers and sisters that thankfully hadn’t shown up this year.

Drusilla had always been the only one to stand up for her but just recalling the memory of how she was so adamant about seeing her ringless finger just made Daphne’s skin crawl. The youngest princess of Reaweth had always been spoiled but Daphne had never realized how little social awareness Drusilla had.

Nathaniel evidently thought the same way too, with what he said next.

"Do excuse me, I don’t mean any offense, but it seems like Prince Alistair and Princess Drusilla have little to no care about your reputation." He frowned a little. "Even though they claim that you are an embarrassment to the Reawethen royal family ― to which you are not ― they are the ones that are consistently broadcasting your slip-ups."

Daphne pursed her lips, deep in thought.

Seeing her silence, Nathaniel continued, "Meanwhile, as for King Atticus..."

Sirona had been in the middle of digging through her fourth cake of the morning when her king’s name caught her attention. Her movements dramatically slowed down as her ears perked up, careful to catch every detail that dared come out of this thick-skinned crown prince’s lips.

"What about Atticus?" Daphne asked. Her heart, too, skipped a beat at the mention of her husband’s name.

"Are you that way with him too?" Nathaniel asked. He then explained, "Quiet, soft-spoken, almost as if you’re afraid of showing your true colors in fear that he will mock you for it." His expression darkened. "Or does he treat you the same way that your brothers and sisters do?"

"Atticus is not like that," Daphne quickly refuted. "He is a good husband and I can speak freely around him. He has protected me many times and yet," her face fell, "I’ve only embarrassed him ever since arriving at Raxuvia."

"You have been a wonderful guest at Raxuvia," Nathaniel said. "If King Atticus thinks any different, then he is simply blind-sighted by the other women present."

Something about that line caused Sirona to completely stop moving. Even though she was still facing her plate of goodies, her eyes had darted to look at the pair in a sideways glance. A frown slowly made its way onto her face, knitting her eyebrows together until the skin in between crinkled.

’Blind-sighted by the other women present’? What was this prince trying to imply?

"Drusilla does have a way with convincing people." Daphne laughed, though there was no joy in her voice. "She can be very persuasive."

Sirona clenched her jaw tightly together in irritation when she finally realized what Prince Nathaniel was trying to do.

He was trying to take potshots at Atticus!

She hadn’t even noticed that the skin of her lip had already torn with how she was chewing on it just to prevent herself from cursing at him.

Her glare hadn’t gone unnoticed. Prince Nathaniel had long caught the way the Vramidian healer had been sending daggers his way via her heated gaze. Yet, he barely paid her any mind. Instead, he simply raised a hand, beckoning the servants to come over.

"Could we have a refill?" he asked, gesturing to the teapots. "It’s getting a little too cold. It might be better for the ladies to have something hot on this chilly morning."

The maid dutifully tottered over, refilling the tea in their cups one by one. Yet, when she had reached Sirona, a slip of her hand was all it took for the hot tea to come splashing on Sirona’s arm.

Sirona yelped in surprise, jumping up when the scorching liquid made contact with her skin. A searing sensation shot through her skin as the scalding hot tea cascaded over her arm, even dripping onto her thigh.

Her heart raced as the pain intensified and she clutched her arm in distress. A bright red mark began to form on her once smooth skin, the outline of the spill etched like a painful memory. Her forearm throbbed with each beat of her heart, the burn turning her skin tender and inflamed. A small blister formed, a tiny bubble of fluid causing the area to look swollen and raw.

Even though the maid quickly apologized and placed the teapot down to help her clean up, it was too late.

The damage was done.

"Sirona!" Daphne exclaimed in shock, immediately reaching over to assess the injury.

"Just a small injury," Sirona said, blinking back the tears that had naturally formed due to the pain. She had been through her fair share of burns and cuts but it didn’t mean that every new one didn’t hurt.

"Perhaps you should get that tended to," Nathaniel suggested. "Please bring the lady to the healers. They will have some medication that might alleviate the pain."

Sirona’s eyes widened, her eyebrows shooting to the top of her forehead in alarm.

"But Your Highness―"

"Go," Daphne firmly said, cutting in. "This is more important and you know it."

"Your Highness, I can’t leave you alone here," Sirona argued with a frown. ’Not when you’re alone with him,’ she thought to herself.

"I will be fine," Daphne assured.

"Princess Daphne is in safe hands," Nathaniel followed up.

With just one look from him, the maids rushed over to assist Sirona out of her chair. Rather than ’assist’, it was more accurate to say that she was pried off her seat and practically dragged away.

That left Daphne and Nathaniel alone at the pavilion.