Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 111: Imprisoned Patient

Chapter 111: Imprisoned Patient

Atticus had scoured through almost the entirety of the royal palace of Raxuvia and yet there was no sign of either Daphne or Sirona. He hadn’t even been able to catch a glimpse of that pompous crown prince anywhere.

Yet, despite their disappearance, the castle was filled with gossip and chatter about them. Everywhere Atticus went, he would learn of a new rumor that surrounded his wife. Some were mild but a lot others were disturbingly bold. No matter how many times Atticus had dished out warnings and threats, it seemed like the noble women weren’t afraid of letting their tongues run loose.

These women would meet quail at the sight of him in person and promise they would never talk about it, but then Atticus turned away, he realized that somehow, the rumors always grew worse. So he had to find Daphne as soon as possible, to put an end to this mess.

"Atticus!"

The man in question turned in the direction his name was called, frowning when he was met with the sight of Jonah’s flustered expression.

"What is it?" he asked, impatient. This was not a good sign. Jonah had merely left for minutes so that they could cover more ground separated than together, but he had already returned so quickly.

Did he finally locate Daphne?

"Bad news...Sirona..." Jonah wheezed out, "Sirona is with the healers in the infirmary!"

"What?" Atticus’s eyebrows knitted together, his expression contorting into a look of disbelief. "Isn’t she supposed to be with Daphne?"

"Word on the street is that Sirona was injured during brunch with the crown prince," Jonah answered. "She was then brought to the infirmary and has been there for quite a while now."

They wasted no time. Jonah promptly led Atticus down to where Sirona was currently being held, arriving just in time to hear the sound of glass shattering behind a closed door.

"Fuck you!" The sound of a woman screaming inside could be heard, her voice laced with paramount anger. "If you don’t let me out, I’ll fling myself through the window!"

If it were any other day, Atticus might’ve smirked. It was such a signature thing for Sirona to start cursing and swearing whenever things weren’t going her way. Atticus would usually sit on the sidelines and munch on a handful of sweets while he watched Sirona bulldoze through whatever got in her way.

However, unfortunately, Atticus did not have the luxury to indulge in such simple pleasures in life this time. He had a feeling that whatever Sirona wanted was very much in line with his own desires as well. That meant that if things weren’t going smoothly for her, it wouldn’t go too well for him either.

Without bothering to knock, Atticus pushed the door open.

Broken glass littered the floor like a treacherous path, reflecting the glimmer of spilled tonics and potions that stained the wooden surface. Medical equipment lay scattered haphazardly, their purpose forgotten amidst the disorder.

Amidst the wreckage stood Sirona, her eyes ablaze with fury. There were a few other healers that stood around her, mainly positioning themselves in between her and the door. They had their hands held out, looking ready to pounce if she had moved a bit too far off.

At the sound of the door opening, all eyes turned to look at who it was that had entered the room.

At first, Sirona’s rage-filled eyes honed in on their new target, ready to grab the nearest item to hurl at the newcomer. But when she recognized the two men that had just appeared to be her saviors, her gaze softened in relief.

"About damn time." She breathed out in relief, her posture relaxing just a little.

"What is going on here?" Atticus demanded.

His eyes quickly assessed the damage induced in the room before it eventually trailed to Sirona’s arm. There was an ugly patch of red that covered nearly her entire forearm, blisters peppering her once-fair skin. Blood was dripping from her fingertips, leaving dots and stains across the floor. It didn’t take him long to guess that it was most likely a result of all the broken glass.

Clenching his fingers tightly into a fist, Atticus’s ring began to glow. Immediately, a cloud of purple surrounded the various debris on the ground, lifting them up via magic. They were all tossed to a side and out of the way so that there wouldn’t be a risk of accidentally harming themselves.

"King Atticus!" one of the healers greeted, jumping in surprise.

He quickly bowed low, the few strands of hair on his head tipping forward due to the angle. When he bolted back up, all he met with was Atticus’s cold gaze, beaming down at him like the god of death judging his crimes in life. This elicited a squeak of fright from the portly little man.

"T-To w-what do w-we owe t-this p-pleasure?" he asked, stammering.

"I would like to know why exactly is my healer being held here against her wishes," Atticus said, his voice sending a stroke of terror through all of the healers. They hadn’t failed to notice that the glow of Atticus’s ring hadn’t dimmed one bit. "Especially when she is supposed to be accompanying my queen."

"W-Well..." The man’s eyes darted left and right. Atticus guessed that he was most likely the head healer of Raxuvia’s royal palace. "M-Miss Sirona’s injuries are f-far more s-serious than it s-seems. T-This is for h-her own safety―"

"In case you fail to remember, Healer Otis, I am also a healer myself," Sirona said through gritted teeth. "This burn is nothing more than a couple minutes’ worth of salves and maybe extra bandages for good measure. And yet, you’ve kept me here for over an hour and refused to let me leave!"

Over an hour. Those words echoed in Atticus’s mind. That meant that his beloved wife had been left alone in the hands of the devil for far too long. No wonder the rumors about her had flooded what seemed like the entire upper echelon of Raxuvia and more!

"B-But Miss S―"

"It’s ’Healer Sirona’ to you, old man," Sirona bit back, cutting Healer Otis off mid-sentence. "I did not go through all those classes and exams just for my status as the head healer of Vramid to be reduced to a mere ’Miss’ in your words."

"Sirona, there’s no need to argue with him," Jonah said.

He shared a look with Atticus, receiving a nod from the latter. With Atticus’s affirmation, Jonah stepped forward, carefully escorting Sirona past the other healers that dare not do anything more now that Vramid’s king and head of the royal knights were around.

With Jonah leading the way, Sirona finally made it to the door of the infirmary after trying for what seemed like forever.

"I believe that is all the business you have with my healer?" Atticus asked coldly, staring directly at Otis.

The old man’s legs were shaking so badly that Jonah wondered for a moment if he was about to wet himself.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Otis squeaked out, his voice quivering as badly as his legs.

"Good." With that said, the trio left the infirmary, the door slamming shut behind them.

Now, they just had to find Daphne before those vile, gossipy women could.

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