Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 209: The Date I

Chapter 209: The Date I

"King Atticus, I must say I’m surprised that you agreed to my invitation," Francessa Seibert said, a girlish blush on her cheeks as she gazed at her king.

"How could I not?" Atticus smiled at her bemusedly, as though Francessa was the odd one for thinking otherwise. "I’ve always loved food, and I’m interested in trying out what your newest restaurant has to offer."

"Then I hope my humble restaurant meets your expectations." Francessa curtseyed demurely before looking over her latest pride and joy.

She was finally opening her restaurant, right in the center of town. It had two floors, an extensive menu, and she had even purposely hired chefs from different regions so as to perfect the dishes she had in mind. It was an expensive investment, but to her, it was worth every penny.

Normally it was meant to be open the day after the Spring Parade, after she was crowned the winner, to ensure maximum footfall and attention to her newest venture. However, Queen Daphne’s odious little watery pet had thoroughly ruined her plans, causing widespread destruction and flooding, setting back the reopening by weeks.

Francessa had worried over the fate of the restaurant― residents would be too worried about their possessions to waste time and money on her pastries, but then an unexpected savior arrived.

King Atticus himself had sent a message from the palace, claiming that he wanted to meet her, the newest winner of the Spring Parade.

"I didn’t think a winner would be chosen," Francessa confessed honestly. "Especially since the event ended in... well..." She trailed off, biting her bottom lip. "It ended less favorably than any of us would’ve liked."

"You were the most popular vote," Atticus said. "Even though the parade ended in an unpleasant tone, I believe that a prize must still be handed out for all of your efforts in preparation for the parade. That’s only fair and right."

Atticus gazed back at her with a wry smile and her face reddened further; to have King Atticus’s undivided attention was equivalent to staring straight at the sun without blinking. She hastily looked away and composed herself, gathering her wits.

"I am honored, Your Majesty," Francessa replied with a bashful smile.

Unbeknownst to her, Atticus thought about flinging her down the slope so that Francessa would roll downhill and meet an untimely end at the hands of a well-placed rock. However, that was too mild a plan for his sweet wife.

Daphne, that little devil. Just the thought of her brought a genuine smile to his face for the first time since he had set foot in his cursed place. He had to play his part well for her sake.

"I heard that a few of the ladies that participated were badly injured," Atticus said. He placed a hand over his chest where his heart was, sincerely continuing, "I do hope they’re alright."

"Oh, yes," Francessa replied with a nod. "Lady Penelope had some cuts and bruises from the flood but she is recovering quickly."

"It is such a shame," Atticus commented.

"What is, Your Majesty?" Francessa asked, blinking in surprise.

"The parade, of course," Atticus said. He then waved the matter off and pretended that he did not wish to discuss the topic any further. Instead, Atticus held out a hand, gesturing at the building. "Shall we head in?"

Francessa Seibert’s restaurant had been decorated with a bunch of wreaths and garlands, all of which were woven from Vramid’s specialty flowers. It was quite the jab to adhere so strictly to the theme after the disastrous parade. When Daphne had first caught wind of Francessa Seibert’s design decorations for her restaurant’s grand opening, she had rolled her eyes and scoffed.

Atticus’s darling wife had been less than elated about the entire thing but the plan was, after all, still hers. Thus, she couldn’t complain too much about it.

He had whined and argued vehemently against going on a date with this vile wicked witch but Daphne had been adamant.

’If it’s a date she wants, it’s a date she’ll get,’ she had said back then. Even up until now, Atticus could still remember the rage that was burning behind Daphne’s eyes. ’I want to see her crushed right after thinking that things are finally looking up for her.’

Daphne had looked so sinister at that moment that Atticus couldn’t have been more proud. It took a flood, a serial killer, and a psychotic, chicken-stealing mythical beast of a stalker for that to happen but since it did, Atticus couldn’t have wished for anything better.

Jonah always did tell him he had strange tastes in women.

King Atticus offered Francessa a hand as he led them to their table, the very picture of a gentleman. He looked so handsome in the sun, dressed only in a simple high-collared shirt and breeches, and even then, he looked like a god that had graced the mortal realm. It was no wonder that even the restaurant workers could not tear their eyes away from their distinguished guest.

The difference between King Atticus and Francessa’s husband was like night and day!

Lucien Seibert might be conventionally good-looking but he was never one that knew how to dress or carry himself. Just thinking of that dumb man had Francessa’s mood in the dumps. He hadn’t returned home in weeks, most likely running off to convene with whichever mistress he might have elsewhere.

Not that Francessa cared. All she knew was that if he dared to bring up divorce, all of those business ventures under his name would be hers as well.

While Francessa Seibert was having quite possibly the best day of the month, it was the worst day of Atticus’s life. And he couldn’t even show it.

He had to plaster on a fake smile as he nodded and grinned through whatever nonsense Francessa Seibert seemed so interested in sharing, mainly about her many business ventures. This was exactly why he had so abhorred the idea of marrying her.

Not that she had a brain. That was admirable. It was difficult to maintain so many flourishing businesses at one time. But the fact that she could somehow make everything about herself. Even when she talked about the creation of the restaurant and cuisines from other kingdoms, somehow, it still revolved around her!

Francessa Seibert was utterly vain and completely self-centered. The public was blind; she was never in any way fit to be queen.

However, that was exactly what Atticus wanted at the moment. He needed her to let down her guard and start spilling her trade secrets. Only then would he be able to find out how far she had gotten into the illegal gem trade.

Atticus surreptitiously adjusted the sodalite necklace he had on. It was covered by the fabric of his shirt but it could still pick up sound very well.

"So," Atticus said, "Lady Francessa, you’re a dedicated and intelligent woman. Truly second to none. Your husband must be a blessed man indeed! Have you seen him recently? I wouldn’t want to step on any toes on our date."

Lucien Seibert was still sitting pretty in his dungeons. If Francessa actually claimed she saw him, that’ll be something interesting for later.

And Francessa did not disappoint. She smiled and said. "Don’t worry about it, my husband has given me express permission to go on this outing with you. He understands how important this event is to me and to the restaurant."

What a consummate liar!