Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 157: The Shortcut II

Chapter 157: The Shortcut II

The three of them quickly plastered themselves against the wall, and Daphne cautiously peeped with one eye, curious to see what was going on. It seemed like her older brother was with a woman, though Daphne couldn’t see her face too clearly.

Prince Nathaniel and Atticus did something similar, but they clearly had more experience in sneaking around. They soundlessly crouched low and blended with the shadows. When Daphne turned back to spare a gaze, she caught sight of the dark look in their eyes, reminiscent of predators waiting in the dark for their prey to make the wrong move.

A shiver ran down Daphne’s spine. She had almost forgotten how dangerous all these people were.

Daphne could see half of Alistair’s face as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked noticeably vexed since she last saw him.

Meanwhile, Prince Nathaniel and Atticus traded knowing glances. It had only been a short time since Alistair left the meeting, but there was a waxy sheen on his face and he kept turning his head to look around the tunnel, as though he was waiting for someone else to arrive.

"Brother!"

Of course, the woman was Drusilla. Daphne doubted Alistair would let any other woman corner him in a seemingly deserted secret tunnel. Even in the dim light, Daphne could see that the back of her dress was charred at certain parts.

"Please help... I’m ruined!" Drusilla cried, sobbing pitifully. "I don’t want to live anymore!" Her warbled voice echoed through the tunnels. She sounded like she had been crying.

Daphne had to give it to Drusilla. If she was good at anything, it would be her unrivaled talent for pulling heartstrings. For as long as Daphne could remember, Drusilla was always skilled in manipulating the way people would feel for her. It was no difficult task to garner the sympathy of people around her.

That was how Drusilla managed to get Daphne wrapped around her finger even through the years of subtle mistreatment― Daphne hadn’t even realized what Drusilla was doing to her!

However, to everyone’s surprise, instead of immediately fussing over Drusilla as though she was the apple of his eye, Alistair replied with a tone that bordered more on exasperation, casting another look at the tunnels.

"Drusilla, I’m currently waiting for a friend. Whatever it is, can you handle it yourself?"

"Brother!" Drusilla’s voice was choked up, and Daphne could just imagine the pathetic, pitiful look on her face."Have you already heard? Do you believe those foul rumors? Is that why... why... you refuse to help me? You don’t love me anymore?"

Alistair stared at her in confusion. "What rumors?"

Drusilla’s shoulders began shaking as tears rolled down her face, the very picture of devastation. "Brother, they’re.... The ladies all think... I’m... a harlot!" She wailed into her hands.

"That’s preposterous!" Alistair raged. "Do they think you’re Daphne?"

Prince Nathaniel shot Atticus a warning glare, shaking his head minutely, a wordless command to stay still. Atticus bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, but he made sure to remain calm. He gave Daphne a worried look, but Daphne only smiled in return.

Who cared about what Alistair said about her? Her reputation was intact, but no amount of Drusilla’s tears could wash away her misdeeds. If Alistair wanted to cause trouble, she would simply put her ring on Drusilla’s finger so that Alistair could see the truth for himself.

Drusilla continued to sob, painting a tale of woe with her gasping breaths. Suddenly, Daphne and Cordelia became the instigators, and poor Drusilla was the victim of a misunderstanding. She tried to clarify, but Queen Yvaine stood up for them. She claimed that Daphne swapped her own ring’s results with Drusilla’s.

Daphne could only mentally applaud Drusilla’s imagination; personally, she would have never been able to think up something so ridiculous! Drusilla was certainly missing out. She could’ve been a very good writer if she put her mind to it, given her vivid imagination and talent for weaving obscene tales.

Meanwhile, Prince Nathaniel kept an iron grip on Atticus’s shoulder to prevent him from blowing their cover, his knuckles almost turning white from exertion, but he refused to let go. He was equally as pissed off but he knew better than to rush out and deck Prince Alistair in the face. His father certainly wouldn’t be too pleased if Reaweth suddenly became an enemy kingdom.

Prince Alistair was definitely suspicious― that man had no friends, let alone any who would meet him.

Alistair listened to the grim tale, but to Drusilla’s surprise, he didn’t promise to handle it.

"Can’t you do something about it? Drusilla, you’re nearly 20! How is it that you still need me to clean up your mess― in fact, why do you still keep causing messes? This Daphne isn’t the Daphne of the past; she has King Atticus now."

Warmth bloomed in Daphne’s heart, and she couldn’t help but glance at Atticus, only to find that he was already looking at her. Prince Nathaniel was caught in the middle and could only roll his eyes.

"So until you get a husband as powerful as him, leave her alone!" Alistair roared at her, pointing an angry finger in her face before grabbing her by her arm. "I do not have time to play games with you women any longer. Get out of here Drusilla, before someone sees you."

Drusilla blinked, her mouth gaping in shock. She couldn’t believe her ears. Her precious brother... yelled at her? He wasn’t going to help her?

"Brother! What are you saying? Brother! Wait! Let go of me!" Drusilla cried out, but it was useless. Alistair was unmoved― he simply dragged her to the end of the tunnel and shoved her outside. Daphne’s eyes nearly bugged out at the sight; Alistair was treating Drusilla the same way he treated her!

"Do not bother me with useless trifles anymore!" They heard Alistair’s yell echo through the tunnels before Alistair walked back. They watched him pace around the tunnels, muttering to himself like a madman.

"Come on, show up.... Where are you... fuck... " He pulled roughly at his hair, slamming his other hand against the tunnel. "Curse you! If I die because of you, I’d never forgive you, Eugene Attonson!"