Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 182: Brainstorm

Chapter 182: Brainstorm

"Oh?" Atticus hummed.

His curiosity only barely masked the disappointment he felt; the latter swarmed through him like insects swirling in his belly. So close!

"Perhaps you would like to have some proper rest first? You’ve got a couple of weeks before the competition starts. It’s alright to procrastinate just a little," he suggested. "I could better massage your back if you just lay down on the bed―"

He was interrupted by the griffin that flew straight onto Daphne’s lap. The stupid bird squawked for attention, practically nuzzling into Daphne’s embrace like a lap cat.

"Oh, are you hungry already?" Daphne asked, opening her eyes as she gazed down at the griffin flapping his wings. Her husband was all but forgotten in the face of the griffin’s plaintive cries, demanding her attention.

"Didn’t he just eat?" Atticus grumbled. "If he grows any fatter he won’t be able to fly."

The griffin ignored Atticus’s words and nuzzled into Daphne’s hands, wordlessly begging for food. Atticus could practically see Zephyr’s eyes glisten in a silent plea.

Up until now, Atticus still couldn’t fathom why Daphne would give this thing a name. If it needed to have one, it could’ve just been referred to as the chicken. It certainly looked more like one than a griffin, at least.

"I’ll go and feed it first," Daphne said to Atticus as she quickly stood up to go to the kitchens. Baby Zephyr was a picky eater and would only accept food from Daphne’s own hand. "Atticus, thanks for the massage. I feel much better already!"

"You’re welcome," Atticus said woodenly, but Daphne didn’t even pay attention to his reply, too busy focusing on the whining bundle in her arms. "You know, I can help you with the float as well. You’re not alone in this."

"That’s really sweet of you," Daphne said, smiling. "But I’m sure you have more important duties to handle than this beauty competition. Besides, the other contestants would definitely have a thing or two to say if they knew you were personally helping me out."

"In that case, if you need help with the float, you can always ask Jonah for assistance," Atticus offered. "He will be able to help you get the necessary materials needed."

Jonah, who was busy training his men in the courtyard downstairs, started to sneeze.

"Does Jonah know that?" Daphne asked suspiciously.

"He will soon." Atticus beamed. "I have full faith in your abilities, but leave the heavy lifting to him!"

That elicited a short bark of laughter from Daphne. "In that case, don’t mind if I do!"

Atticus was just about to say something else in reply when the griffin began to chirp and whine in Daphne’s arms. It wiggled around impatiently, flapping its little wings while digging its talons into her skin. It wasn’t enough force to draw blood but it certainly got Daphne’s attention back onto it, instead of her husband whom she was conversing with.

"Oh no." Daphne frowned. "Don’t worry, Zephyr, we’ll get you something to eat."

Atticus stared into its beady eyes as it got carted away in Daphne’s loving arms. He squinted, his gaze somehow squarely meeting the darn griffin’s. Perhaps he imagined it all but Atticus thought he could even catch a ghost of a smile curving the damned beast’s beak.

This bird was doing it on purpose!

"That little piece of shi―"

The door slammed shut behind Daphne as she left the room, leaving the brash sound as the only company left for Atticus now that he was alone. Atticus raised his hands, tugging at his hair in frustration. He needed to have a little talk with the chef to see if chicken soup could be put on tonight’s menu. He didn’t want the damned bird around for another moment, rare beast of not!

***

"Perhaps we need more poppies," Daphne said, thinking out loud. She tapped her finger to her chin, ignoring the way Zephyr was wiggling and worming about in the dirt at her feet. She turned to Jonah. "Do you think we can get another batch in within the next three days?"

Jonah pursed his lips, flipping through the documents he held in hand.

"I can try," he said. "But with how the Spring Parade is centered around the flora of spring, it might be difficult to get more flowers. Practically every woman in Vramid’s capital — some even from beyond — is trying to get their hands on the best flowers available for purchase just to win that darn date with Atticus."

His little reminder caused Daphne to heavily sigh. She had been so immersed in drawing up designs of the float that she had forgotten her husband was the grand prize of this competition.

With her palm pressed against her forehead, Daphne lamented, "I had forgotten how stupid he was for a second."

"Hard to forget when I am constantly being reminded of that fact," Jonah mumbled under his breath, though not particularly to hide from Daphne. She managed to catch each and every word crystal clear. "Did you give him a good scolding?"

Daphne thought back to what had happened earlier in the day when she had been trying to come up with ideas. Atticus’s hands had worked really hard and his hidden intentions hadn’t gone unnoticed. It was a silent consent on her part. If it had gone further, Daphne might not have stopped it. However, whenever inspiration hit, nothing could stand in its way.

"You got sidetracked, didn’t you?" Jonah deadpanned. Daphne’s sheepish smile gave him all the answers he needed, causing him to sigh and roll his eyes. "You’re coddling him."

"He is, unfortunately, very persuasive," Daphne replied. She shook her head, swatting at the air as if trying to physically dismiss the topic. "Enough about that idiotic man. The flowers?"

Daphne had a specific design in mind, all thanks to Zephyr and the vibrant reds and oranges that colored its feathers. Even though no one knew about the discovery of her powers, she and Atticus both knew that she had finally reached a milestone in her life.

In the last few weeks since returning from Raxuvia, Daphne had been hard at work honing her magical abilities. She could more or less control her flames now― nothing as spectacular as what Atticus could do but it was at least appearing on command!

Decorating her float in red and orange flowers would be a symbolic representation of her powers, the flames from which she had emerged, stronger than ever.

"I can try, but honestly, I’m not too optimistic about it. The colors you want are rare, and we don’t have the time to dye the flowers either. And we don’t have the same connections the other contestants do," Jonah said, huffing. A small curl of his fringe flew up along with his breath, falling back into place once it was weighed back down by gravity.

Then, an idea flashed through his mind. Jonah visibly perked up as he glanced at Daphne. "Wait, what about Prince Nathaniel?"

Daphne furrowed her eyebrows. "What about him?"

"Raxuvia exports large amounts of flowers into Vramid and other kingdoms. They have some of the rarest breeds that cannot be found in other countries," Jonah explained. "The royal palace of Raxuvia has a greenhouse that specifically breeds and cares for hundreds of species that cannot be found elsewhere, even within Raxuvia itself."

Daphne’s eyes lit up as she caught onto what Jonah was trying to imply.

"If you’re still penpals with Prince Nathaniel," Jonah said, "it might be worth a try asking him for flowers to add to your float. Those will be difficult if not impossible for other contestants to replicate."