Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 145: Private Talks

Chapter 145: Private Talks

Back in King Calarian’s private quarters, Atticus was most definitely not keeping a cool head. He paced back and forth in the room like a caged lion, a hand tugging at the strands of his hair.

"A word of advice, you shouldn’t do that unless you want your hairline to recede when you’re young," King Calarian chided gently, offering Atticus a cup of wine from his own personal stash.

"Some wine for your nerves?"

Atticus stared at it suspiciously and made no move to take it.

King Calarian simply shrugged, not offended in the slightest. His mood was much improved after his wedding ring was returned to him completely unharmed, and now he only wanted to get to the bottom of this mess.

"More for me then," he said, and he chugged down the entire cup in one go. "I have a feeling I’m going to need it."

Atticus could only chuckle, but there wasn’t much mirth in it. His obsidian ring had been returned to him and it glinted ominously in the light. King Calarian decided to get straight down to business.

"So, would you care to explain who that escaped criminal that managed to sneak into the grounds was?" he asked, sitting down on his chair. "To have confounded all of us, he must be highly skilled."

"It’s that fucker Eugene Attonson!" Atticus burst out, his hands balled into fists. "That motherfucker!"

The room seemed to shake with his rage. Calarian sighed as his pillows fell to the floor.

"Okay." That explained absolutely nothing to Calarian, other than letting him know that Atticus hated him. He felt like he was talking to his oldest daughter when she threw tantrums; he needed to poke and prod to get the full story.

"And what did Eugene Attonson do? I’m guessing he isn’t an ordinary petty criminal. "

"He got people to kidnap Daphne!" Atticus slammed his fist on the table and the table broke into two!

Calarian nearly shrieked; he dove straight for his wine bottles before they could fall on the floor and put them on his bed instead. His own ring glowed, and a small rack made out of metal began to form from the various ornaments around him, keeping the wines safe.

He wasn’t going to risk them falling on the floor. The wines were at least 80 years old!

"Calm down, calm down," Calarian said warningly, hovering over his alcohol stash protectively. "So he kidnapped Queen Daphne and he got away with such a feat?"

"No. I had him imprisoned in the dungeons," Atticus scowled heavily, trying to rein in his temper, but it was impossible he remembered Eugene Attonson’s smug smirking face.

"I’m guessing he escaped?"

"It’s all Daphne’s foolish maid’s fault! That man killed off all my guards and my prisoners, then that idiotic maid went missing and Daphne went to search for her and then she got kidnapped and nearly died again! And after all that, she insisted on keeping the maid anyway!"

Atticus ranted without a pause. Clearly, this issue had been weighing heavily on his mind, so much so that he nearly roared out the last part. King Calarian poured another cup of wine. This young king definitely needed a pick-me-up.

"Are you sure you don’t want some wine? It’s not poisoned, I swear on my honor and my life."

Atticus considered it and then nodded, taking a careful sip. His eyes widened at the flavors.

"Bitter plum wine... how unique," Atticus muttered as his tongue tried to make sense of the layers hidden in one simple sip.

"I do take pride in my wine collection. Don’t tell Prince Nathaniel but his selection of alcohol is positively dreadful. Tastes like water all the time," Calarian said, helping himself to another cup.

"So I’m guessing this Eugene Attonson knows magic. But he must have an insider helping him, for him to even have the guts to trespass this event," Calarian mused. "There are so many magic users in this place that his magic wouldn’t be too useful in an actual match... which could be why he chose to show up in the maze, where he would have an unparalleled advantage to... stage another kidnapping?"

"Of course, I don’t think he expected your wife to not give up her jewels," Calarian continued wryly.

Atticus’s head jerked up in surprise; he had nearly forgotten that no one knew about his abilities.

"Don’t worry, I’m not angry about it," King Calarian reassured him, and Atticus could only nod. He certainly wasn’t going to let him know the truth. "I’m very grateful she kept her jewels. If the two of you went missing, no one would notice until dinner time, and any mishap will just be considered an accident. If he had stumbled upon anyone else, the outcome would have been disastrous. Do you have any idea who could be responsible?"

"I bet that blond bastard is behind this," Atticus growled out.

Calarian blinked.

"We have a lot of blond people here, you will need to be more specific." Needless to say, there were also many bastards. "Are you talking about Queen Daphne’s brother?"

"I’m talking about our host! Prince Nathaniel!" Atticus exclaimed hotly. The chandelier swayed and creaked ominously as Atticus’s ring flashed. Calarian hurriedly used his powers to repair the chandelier. He didn’t fancy being impaled by it when he slept.

"Why do you think that?" Calarian asked. "He didn’t recognize the man... Ah, of course, it could be because you have beaten him so badly his own mother couldn’t recognize him."

"He wants my wife for himself. And this entire maze was his doing, along with the guards. And he wanted everyone to surrender their jewels. I have no doubt about it, it’s definitely his fault!" Atticus raged. Calarian’s window exploded, showering them both with glass shards.

Calarian sighed as he considered Atticus’s words. He had a point, but something wasn’t adding up.

"Getting your wife is too small a goal for such a large risk. His entire reputation and kingdom are at stake!"

"King Calarian, you don’t know this, but he hired a crew of assassins to kill me when I first kidnapped Daphne," Atticus said, his eyes flashing dangerously as he recalled their first wedding night, ruined by intruders. "Five of them, and not one single person cared for her welfare. I was their main target."

"I see," Calarian frowned, understanding the situation. "Now I have another question, if you don’t mind?"

"What is it?" Atticus asked, calmer now that he had finished raging. He was going to make Nathaniel pay in blood tomorrow.

"Now, how were there three counts of magic when there were only two known magic users?"

Atticus paused, before shaking his head. "How would I know? Bet that blond idiot messed up the maze too. I wouldn’t doubt him to screw it up."

"I see..." Calarian said, nodding patiently. "You have a point."

What Atticus didn’t know was that Calarian had been to countless Crowned Conquests since he was a mere prince and he had seen a great variety of magical places and creations. A maze with a perfect center, such as this particular one with a pavilion, would be near impossible to hoodwink. Prince Nathaniel would have layered more enchantments on top of it, to prevent errors like these from occurring.

No, in this instance, Crown Prince Nathaniel was right. The maze had not made a mistake.

It was Atticus who lied. And Calarian knew deep down why he would do such a thing.

After all, love was a very powerful motivator.

Their private time was interrupted by a knock on the door, to which Calarian immediately beckoned the person in. When the door swung open, Jonah was revealed, Sirona by his side.

"Your Majesties," Jonah greeted, "I’m afraid I would have to disturb you. Prince Nathaniel has called for the conference and your attendance has been requested."