Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 205: Resounding Truth II

Chapter 205: Resounding Truth II

"It’s my wife," Lucien Seibert confessed. "Francessa Seibert is the one... supplying the gemstones to Jean Nott."

Jonah sucked in a gasp of cold air through his teeth, his eyebrows rising a little on his forehead in surprise. He had prepared himself for all sorts of names, having thought of a list of suspects that could be a part of the rot in Atticus’s court. Yet, he hadn’t thought of the possibility of it being a woman.

Now that he thought about it, Francessa Seibert was a formidable person. She was a cleverer businesswoman than her husband was― a lot of the Seibert family’s businesses were managed by the Marchioness, not the Marquis. Lucien Seibert was more of a mascot than anything when compared to his wife’s accomplishments.

That was a part of the reason why Atticus hadn’t wanted to marry Francessa Seibert despite the court’s pressure.

He had always thought that Francessa Seibert was much too calculating to become the queen of Vramid and to rule by his side. There was always the possibility of her stabbing him in the back, something Atticus couldn’t risk due to the greater schemes.

Also, that woman was only true to one thing and one thing only― money. She had no care for love or romance or affection. Even her marriage with Lucien Seibert had been arranged, purely due to the benefits they could bring for each other’s businesses.

However, it seemed like that intel was at least half false. With how Lucien Seibert had acted throughout the entire interrogation, it seemed like he, at least, held a lot of love and loyalty for his wife. Jonah had no doubt that if placed in the same situation, Francessa Seibert would’ve definitely sold her husband out immediately if it meant saving her own skin.

"There, don’t you feel better already?" Jonah commented.

Lucien Seibert had collapsed onto the floor. Speaking that one truth had taken up all of his energy. The man began to dry-heave. But even with all that churning and retching, the blue kyanite remained safely wedged deep inside his stomach. It would only be passed out from the other end after a few days.

He crouched low, practically sprawled against the cold stone as his shoulders rose and fell weakly in an attempt to regain his breath. Now that he had confessed and answered the question asked, the pain was subsiding. Yet, even the residual sensations were enough to cause Lucien to break out in cold sweat.

There was even a little bit of drool that leaked from the corner of his lips. However poised and refined he was at formal events previously, Lucien Seibert reflected the exact opposite now.

"You..." He feebly gasped for air. "You... will... pay... for this..."

"Aww," Jonah cooed a little sadistically.

Learning that Francessa Seibert was behind all of this had ignited a cruel streak in him. After all, she had her hands dipped in too much filth and was the main reason why his queen was now locked in her own room, too afraid to set foot out of the palace grounds.

"Are you breaking already? This is merely the beginning, Marquis Seibert."

Lucien Seibert quivered uncontrollably. Whoever said Atticus Heinvres was a crazed tyrant had obviously not met his mad dog of a servant. The king had obviously been tamed by his wife. Now, it was the head of the royal guards that was worthy to be scared of.

Jonah Raycott was not a man to be messed with. He wouldn’t be the king’s most trusted aide if it weren’t for that.

"Now," said Jonah, "why are you two working for Jean Nott?"

Not even spared a moment to breathe, Lucien could feel his stomach churning once more. His gut felt like it was being torn apart, stitched back, and then ripped again, the process repeating itself a hundred times within a single second. He emitted a pained groan, his arms curling around his stomach protectively, as if doing so could offer him even the slightest reprieve.

"We’re not... working for him..." Lucien forced out the words. It barely answered the question, thus, only helping to relieve the pain just slightly. Even the smallest bit of help was good enough― Lucien gasped loudly, his body jolting pitifully.

"You honestly want me to believe that Jean Nott is working for you?" Jonah scoffed. "Don’t make me laugh. You two might be great at what you do but what are kings to a god?"

"I would prefer to say that we are partners," Lucien answered. Now that he finally had the spare seconds to breathe properly instead of writhing around the ground in pain like a worm, his words were spoken much more coherently. "It’s a partnership. He scratches our back, we’ll scratch his."

"What are you exchanging, then?" asked Jonah. "What can you possibly offer that will be of use to him?"

This time, Lucien grinned. Crimson blood laced his teeth, coloring the previously pearly white smile pink. However, this man had no care. He simply chuckled toothily, meeting Jonah’s gaze directly in the eye instead of shying away.

"I wonder," he said, "is what you said about necromancy true? Will you truly be able to revive the dead?"

"I wonder as well," Jonah countered. "Is your wife truly worth dying for?"

"You will never understand the love I have for my darling Francessa," barked Lucien. "She is worth every sacrifice."

"Even when she is trying her hardest to win a date with someone else’s husband?" Jonah taunted. "Don’t fool yourself, Marquis. Francessa Seibert does not nearly care for you as much as you do for her. While you were risking your life for this woman, helping her commit illegal deals, she was trying to win a beauty pageant that could secure herself a date with King Atticus― the very same man she wanted to marry before she was left with no other choice than to marry you."

He watched as the crazed light in Lucien’s eyes got snuffed out at the mention of the Spring Parade’s prize.

No way.

Did Lucien Seibert not know?

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.