Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 215: Dirty Confessions III

Chapter 215: Dirty Confessions III

"Actually..." Francessa trailed off. "I might not be for much longer."

Atticus’s eyes nearly sparkled. Finally, she was getting to the point. But all he did was let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Surely you jest! While I look forward to having more magic users in Vramid, that’s just not possible. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly awakened your powers, like my wife?" Atticus prodded as he rested his chin on his hand, every inch the enthralled audience.

Francessa’s face curdled slightly when she was compared to Queen Daphne Molinero. "I am nothing like Queen Daphne! She might’ve been blessed with the magic of royalty after all but she is still pathetic!" She burst out, outraged. "I’ve met someone who promised to awaken my abilities soon, and everyone will see how capable I am!"

Francessa covered her mouth in shock. Her eyes widened as she sucked in a sharp gasp of air, looking unsurely at Atticus. If that counted as slander as well, then Francessa could kiss her title and stability in Vramid goodbye.

But King Atticus merely chuckled to himself. It didn’t sound threatening, but goosebumps began to rise on Francessa’s arms. Even though he maintained a pleasant expression, she did not miss the underlying anger that tainted his laughter.

She would have to tread carefully from now on.

"Oh? I’m looking forward to it," Atticus said. "May I know who this person is?"

"It’s Viscount Eugene Attonson." Francessa’s mouth moved faster than her brain. The moment that name slipped from her lips, Francessa mentally slapped herself.

"But he knows no magic," Atticus said, not letting her second-guess her responses. "How can you be sure he’ll be able to deliver on his promises?"

"I saw it with my own eyes!" Francessa declared hotly. "He produced fire right in front of my eyes! In fact, it was similar to what I saw the queen produce... Maybe he offered to help her too! After all, the queen had been without magic for two decades. How could she possibly awaken her magic just like that?"

Daphne barely restrained the urge to whirl around and give Francessa a piece of her mind. But she still had a job to do, and Atticus was so close to prying the truth out of her.

Fortunately, Francessa’s words were still broadcasted throughout the town. Daphne would have to make do with that for now.

Listeners around the capitol, commoners and nobility alike, gasped in surprise at the shocking revelation. If there was a way to get powers, they would willingly give up their entire family’s fortune for such a life-changing opportunity. Some of the more unscrupulous ones might even sell their family members!

Once they had magic, the world was theirs. They could link themselves to the royal family and live a more lavish lifestyle, rather than simply tending to the fields and animals, counting coins daily to make ends meet.

And they saw their queen use her powers. Clearly, the Viscount knew what he was doing!

"What did you offer to give him in return?" Atticus asked, crossing his arms in distaste at Francessa bringing up Daphne unprovoked. A warning bell rang in Francessa’s head, and she tried to avoid answering the question, only for her stomach to clench in pain, as though someone had delivered a heavy blow to her abdominals.

"Your Majesty, why are you asking this?" Francessa asked with gritted teeth. Was he using his magical abilities to punish her for speaking about his wife? How could she feel so much pain without warning?

"Because I’m curious, of course!" Atticus blinked. "No one would be willing to offer such a lucrative service for free."

"Gemstones. I offered him gemstones," Francessa gasped out and felt the pain quickly subside.

"Vramid doesn’t allow the private sale of gemstones," Atticus said warningly, drumming his fingers on the table. "Where did you get the stones?"

By now, Francessa was realizing something was seriously wrong with her. She felt like she was drunk; her lips were too loose for her own liking. She must have been drugged, but she still retained some semblance of her wits. She wasn’t foolish enough to not notice that King Atticus was trying to get information from her that could easily condemn her and her husband.

Only, she had noticed it too late.

She had to leave now and purge out whatever she ate. That was the only way out of this mess!

"I need the restroom!" Francessa declared, her face nearly turning white from the effort it took not to answer the king’s question. Sweat beaded on her temples as she felt her lungs ache, as though every breath was killing her.

She shakily leaped from her seat and was about to make a beeline for the exit, but a strange force kept her feet rooted to the floor, unable to take a single step.

"Sit right here," Atticus ordered cheerfully, the obsidian on his ring twinkling a beautiful blackish-purple. "I have just the thing for your pain."

Atticus pulled out a blue stone. Francessa’s eyes widened in fear as she recognized it― blue kyanite! She hurriedly shook her head and tried to clamp her mouth shut, despair clouding her vision.

The blue-flaked pastry and her butterfly pea flower tea... they must have been laced with blue kyanite. That must have been the reason why she was feeling a ridiculous compulsion to tell the truth.

King Atticus had discovered her crimes. This entire date was nothing more than a ruse to trap her into a confession!

"Come here and help me," Atticus gestured to the maid standing at the corner.

The maid walked towards her, and Francessa tried to twist away, smacking her with her arms. "You’re just a maid! Get lost you peasant!"

Daphne rolled her eyes and pried open Francessa’s mouth, her need for vengeance giving her extra strength to manhandle this bitch that had made her life a living hell for the past few weeks.

"Unhand me this instance!" Francessa garbled out, "You―"

In that very moment of distraction, Atticus shoved the blue kyanite into her mouth and made sure she swallowed it.

"Now, let’s continue our conversation," Atticus said casually, as though they had been talking about the weather. Daphne was silent, but there was a vicious smile of smug satisfaction on her face.

"How long have you been involved in the illegal smuggling of gemstones?"

"I have not―" Francessa tried to deny it, but with three doses of blue kyanite inside her, it was nigh impossible. Her airways started to swell, cutting off her airflow.

Francessa knew there was only one way out of this mess; she began to slam her head against the table! If she was unconscious, there was no way they could make her confess!

Atticus could only snort and flick his fingers after seeing her first few attempts, forcing Francessa to sit upright in her chair. For all she claimed to have loathed her useless husband, they certainly had the same way of dealing with things.

"The faster you tell the truth, the less pain you’ll be in," Atticus advised. "Just ask your husband if you don’t believe me. He did his best, but he caved in the end. They all do."

Francessa’s eyes widened in fear.

Her husband sold her out?

That good-for-nothing bastard! No wonder the king found out about their activities!

A curse escaped from her ladylike lips, causing listeners to gasp. But that was only the start of it, for Francessa continued to shock and stun them with her words.

"Three years," Francessa yelled. "I’ve been smuggling gemstones for three years!"

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