Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 123: Hit the Apple IV

Chapter 123: Hit the Apple IV

Drusilla had her eyes squeezed shut, too afraid to bear witness to her own possible demise. In that split second when the arrow took flight, she cursed everyone and everything that had landed her in such a position.

Originally, Drusilla wasn’t even on the guest list― her father and stepmother were the ones that were invited to attend the ceremony at Raxuvia. However, urgent matters within the kingdom had held them back and Alistair had been sent in their stead with his position as the crown prince.

With Alistair next in line for the throne, Reaweth might as well give their crown prince a learning experience in diplomacy. With many members of nobility from various kingdoms in attendance, her father had hoped Alistair would use this chance to make useful connections for the future.

Drusilla squeezed her way into the Reaweth delegation, begging her brother for an invite to the event.

With rumors that the fabled King Atticus would be at the Crowned Conquest, she couldn’t miss the chance. Hardly anyone had ever seen the king if they were from anywhere else other than Vramid. The only other people that had the chance to meet him were the royalties that attended the annual meeting. And even then, it wasn’t guaranteed that he would show up.

If Drusilla had missed this opportunity, who knew when the next time would be?

There long had been rumors that her half-sister had been kidnapped by this ruthless tyrant. Drusilla had wanted to see for herself what sort of monstrosity had her sister married.

Yet, the person she saw that night of their first banquet had been anything but a monster.

If beauty had a face, King Atticus would be it.

Drusilla had never thought in all her life that her useless half-sister would have the luck and fortune to marry someone so good-looking. Much more, even though the tyrant was rumored to be a beast, savage and bloodthirsty, he hadn’t harmed so much as a hair on Daphne’s body.

If anything, Daphne Molinero actually looked every bit like a worshiped queen and a well-loved wife!

That filled Drusilla with bitter jealousy. How was it that even though she was so much better than her sister in each and every way possible and still Daphne was the one to emerge victorious in life? How was it that she could still have things go her way and luck out where it mattered?

It was unfair!

When the thwack of the arrow hitting the apple reverberated, Drusilla yelped, instinctively ducking down to dodge. There wasn’t a need to― she was perfectly safe as the arrow had found its target without straying.

Even without Drusilla supporting the apple, the arrow that Alistair had shot kept it in place. The apple juice slowly trickled down from where the fruit had been pierced, dripping onto Drusilla’s head.

It was only when the crowd roared into thunderous applause had Drusilla finally summoned the courage to open her eyes.

Alistair was celebrating, his hands thrown victoriously into the air as the crowd — mainly the women — fanatically chanted his name.

"Have more faith in your brother, Princess Drusilla," Cordelia snarkily commented as she walked over. In one swift tug, she yanked Drusilla back onto her feet, placing a new apple in the palm of her hands. "The arrow was nowhere near hitting you. Besides, your reaction time was so slow that you wouldn’t have dodged it even if it was going to hit you."

Drusilla could only weakly chuckle. Her knuckles had turned nearly as white as her lips from the way she gripped the fruit.

"You’ll still have to survive at least two other arrows!" Cordelia gleefully reminded.

How could that only be the first round? What did Cordelia mean when she said Drusilla had to survive two other arrows?!

One was enough!

Drusilla’s legs turned wobbly. Almost too quickly, she dropped back down to the ground, unable to hold her own weight. Too many times had she done this for performance but for once, this was from genuine fear.

"Oh come on, let’s just get this done and over with!" Cordelia huffed. This time, she hulled Drusilla back onto her feet forcefully, placing the apple directly on her head before stepping away from the firing range.

"Wait... Give me some time..."

A loud rustle sounded across the arena, the thunderous crack an iconic sound that signaled a new hour. All who were present turned in the direction of the branches that told the time, their stomachs rumbling when they realized how late it had gotten.

"Everyone’s hungry and tired," Cordelia said. Her voice lowered into a murmur. "Just stand there and let your brother shoot. If you’re lucky, he’ll miss the next one and we can all go off for lunch. He can’t possibly shoot all the arrows at one time, so you’ll just have to make do."

"He can!" Drusilla shouted, causing Cordelia to back away with a wince.

She had been standing close, too close that the sudden rise in volume blared uncomfortably in her ears.

"He can what?" Cordelia asked, rubbing her ears tenderly. "Finish your sentences."

"My brother is amazing!" Drusilla said. "He can definitely shoot two arrows at one time and have both of them hit the target. Isn’t that right, Brother?"

When Cordelia and the rest of the crowd finally understood what Drusilla was suggesting, their eyes widened in shock.

This girl had gone mad! There was a chance she didn’t even have a clue what was going on.

Daphne furrowed her brows. The chances of the arrow going wayward would be much higher if Alistair were to fire two at one time. "I don’t think that’s such a good idea..."

However, Drusilla was too far gone to think rationally. "Why is that so, Sister? Don’t you have faith in our brother’s abilities?"

Stunned, Daphne pursed her lips shut. She had been worried for a second for Drusilla’s safety but it seemed like her half-sister was only going to dig a deeper grave with every word spoken.

"That would be an interesting idea!" Cordelia chirped. Her eyes lit up with sinister interest. "This is very extraordinary. If Prince Alistair can make the shot and have both arrows hit the apple, there won’t be a need for a fourth round. He will thus be crowned champion and be given the advantage for the hunting event. Would you be agreeable to that, King Atticus?"

Only a fool wouldn’t agree. There was no way the crown prince of Reaweth could make the shot.

Atticus merely smiled. "That would be fair," he said.

All this while, Alistair hadn’t even said a word. He merely stared at Drusilla in disbelief, the vein in his temple throbbing in irritation. This naive little sister of his was baselessly handing out suggestions that would only make his victory harder to achieve!

But now that everyone had already said their piece, and with how Drusilla kept buttering up his ego and claiming that he could make the shot, Alistair found it difficult to say no.

Hence, when Cordelia finally looked over at him for his thoughts, Alistair could only brave a smile and nod.

Cordelia’s tinkling laughter resounded as she clapped in delight.

"Very well, then! Prince Alistair, the stage is yours!"

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