Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 131: The Griffin’s Nest III

Chapter 131: The Griffin’s Nest III

Daphne’s grip tightened around the dagger that she held in her other hand. Alarmed by the sudden contact, she raised her weapon, threatening to slice down. The tip of her weapon was mere millimeters away from Alistair’s eye when she stopped short, finally realizing that it was none other than her brother that had her wrist in a vice-like grip.

Alistair, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. He stared coldly at Daphne, almost as if he was daring her to strike down with her weapon.

Only, she didn’t. As expected. He didn’t think she had it in her as well.

"Let me go, Alistair," she said, refusing to break eye contact with him or show any weakness. Her hand was starting to throb but she didn’t let the pain show on her face.

"And let you make off with my kill? I don’t think so." Alistair sneered. "You should’ve just stayed in the gardens with the rest of the noblewomen, Daphne."

"Unless I have completely gone blind or insane, that is Drusilla standing right there," Daphne said pointedly, nodding in the direction she last saw her husband with the woman in question. "Is she not also a noblewoman?"

"Brother!"

"Prince Alistair, I suggest you unhand my wife right now if you don’t wish to be the next victim of my sword," came Atticus’s cold voice of warning.

It was Alistair that first broke the gaze that they were holding, turning only to meet with Atticus’s very own death glare as he quickly approached them. Drusilla followed closely behind, almost as though she was afraid that if she lagged behind too much, a new griffin would soar in and put an end to her life.

Gone was the haughty princess that always wore a look of confidence. Alistair had to do a double take. He had never seen Drusilla so... scared before.

Her back was hunched, her steps measured and cautious as if treading on fragile ground. Her eyes darted around, alert to any movement or sound, scanning her surroundings with a mix of suspicion and apprehension.

If anything, Drusilla looked more like the Daphne he once knew. The girl that was always so afraid of meeting anyone’s eye, of speaking back, or even to be perceived.

Alistair’s hold slackened, allowing Daphne to wriggle free. That was when the crown prince of Reaweth turned to look at his sister once more. This time, it held none of the hatred that once filled his eyes just seconds prior. Instead, his irises were filled with curiosity and wariness.

He wondered what had happened to Daphne during her time in Vramid. She looked like she had shed the heavy layers of fear and self-doubt. The woman that now stood before him was filled with confidence, feeling every bit like the princess she was. Even her gaze didn’t waver, nor did her words when she spoke back.

To think that this was the same woman that would avoid Alistair’s eyes every time they happened to bump into one another along the palace halls.

"Did he hurt you?" Atticus immediately asked when he neared Daphne, worriedly checking her all over.

This elicited a laugh from Daphne as she shook her head, playfully swatting his hands away when he tried to check her arms for possible injuries.

"I should be asking you this question!" she exclaimed, returning the favor. "You’re the one that just battled a griffin with nothing but a sword." She quickly scanned her husband up and down, trying to check for any wounds that might prove to be problematic. "Any injuries?"

"Have more faith in your husband, sunshine," Atticus said. He puffed his chest with pride. "Why would a griffin cause me any trouble?"

On the other hand, Alistair quickly crossed the rest of the distance between himself and Drusilla. "What has happened to you, Drusilla?" he asked, noting the cuts and bruises that peppered her once porcelain skin. He shot Atticus and Daphne a stink-eye. "What did these barbarians do to you?"

"I was so scared, Brother Alistair!" Seeing that her support system was finally here, Drusilla immediately burst into tears. She practically fell into Alistair’s arms, sobbing intensely as she burrowed her head into his clothes.

"Do not fear," Alistair cooed, trying his best to pacify Drusilla. His other hand reached for his weapon, immediately drawing his sword before pointing it at Atticus. The latter immediately swerved to move Daphne behind him so that the weapon was nowhere near his wife. "What did you do to my sister, you brute?!"

"Watch your manners, Prince." Atticus spat the words out as if they were poison, anger brewing in his eyes. "Ask your precious little sister what happened instead of assuming things. Not everyone is as vile and wicked as you two."

"You―!"

"There was a second griffin," Daphne supplied, her gaze frosty.

She didn’t step out of Atticus’s protective hold but it wasn’t because she was scared. Rather, she noticed how Drusilla’s eyes had been peeking out of Alistair’s hold to cast surreptitious glances at her husband. Now that things were going along smoothly between Atticus and her, she definitely wasn’t about to let Drusilla swoop in and take that from her.

"While you ran off to secure the first griffin, Drusilla was attacked by the second beast. My husband―" she stressed those words, "―saved her life. Please get your facts checked before you start pointing fingers."

Alistair’s eyes narrowed. He looked down at Drusilla, who was still tightly wrapped in his embrace. "Is this true?" he asked.

She nodded demurely. "If it weren’t for King Atticus... I might’ve... I might’ve..." Drusilla choked out, unable to finish her sentence.

"Now if you’ll excuse us, we have no time to sit around for idle chatter," Daphne said, huffing. "Come on, Atticus."

She was prepared to walk in the direction of the griffin’s carcass when a sword suddenly halted her in her tracks. Daphne stopped short, her body jerking with surprise only to realize that it was Atticus that had pulled her back. If he hadn’t, she might’ve walked right into the blade.

"Where do you think you’re going?" Alistair sternly asked through gritted teeth.

Atticus scoffed. "To claim our spoils, of course."

"That griffin?" Alistair sneered. "I don’t think so."