Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 239: Deal with the Devil III

Chapter 239: Deal with the Devil III

"Have a seat," King Cyrus said, gesturing to the plush and luxurious couches and armchairs littered around his office. He chose a seat away from his desk, relaxing in the lounge area instead as if to emphasize that it was a casual affair.

Atticus and Daphne followed his lead, choosing to sit opposite the king of Reaweth. It didn’t take long before they got into business.

"I can’t say that my sons and daughters acted out of the ordinary when they realized Daphne could do magic," King Cyrus said gravely as his upper lip curled in distaste. He had long written Daphne off as a lost cause, and he hated being proved wrong. "When did this miracle happen?"

He looked at his oldest daughter as though he was actually seeing her for the first time, scrutinizing the changes in her demeanor. The Daphne of before would have ducked her head and cowered at his stare, but now his daughter returned his gaze evenly without any fear.

"When I arrived in Vramid." Daphne smiled politely in response. "It turns out all I needed was a change in scenery."

"What can I say? I have a talent for bringing out the best in people," Atticus continued smugly, pressing a kiss to Daphne’s cheek. "A phoenix only soars in the skies, and not a cage. Especially not one filled with other lesser beasts."

King Cyrus’s face purpled at the insult.

"What are you insinuating, King Atticus?" King Cyrus asked. "That my other children are lesser beasts and monsters, set to harm one of their own?"

"Have they ever viewed Daphne as one of their own?" Atticus countered. "Daphne was your second child but she had never received an ounce of your care and attention."

"Was that what she told you?" King Cyrus scoffed.

"No, it’s what I observed," Atticus replied fairly. "You were not present at the Crowned Conquest this year in Raxuvia but the way Prince Alistair and Princess Drusilla had addressed their sister was not one of a loving sibling, but that of an overly pampered, selfish brat looking down upon someone else. You would even think they’re talking about a prisoner of war rather than their own sister."

In his silence, Daphne took this opportunity to speak.

"With all due respect, Father, people needn’t be blindly respectful to others who have not shown them the same respect." She raised her head, her chin tilted proudly. "Alistair may be my older brother, but I can’t say the same for Drusilla and the others. Furthermore, even as my older brother, Alistair had never shown me the same amount of care he has for others. That goes even before my lack of magic became apparent."

"What was Alistair saying about making a deal with the devil, then?" King Cyrus asked. He crossed one leg over the other, placing his hand over his knee.

"That is what we’re here in Reaweth to talk about, actually," Atticus said. "I am sure Your Majesty has heard of the famed criminal, Jean Nott?"

"I have," he said. Then, his expression darkened. "Was Prince Alistair insinuating that his sister had dealings with that criminal?"

"Hilarious," Daphne said, scoffing, "especially when it is him who has been in touch with Jean Nott."

The king eyed his daughter dubiously, his eyebrows knitted tightly together into a frown.

"That is a grave accusation you are making, Daphne."

"I am not the only one that has seen it," Daphne said. "So did Atticus and Prince Nathaniel of Raxuvia. Perhaps, Father, you would like to reconsider handing down the position of crown prince to Alistair and give it to someone else instead. A prince that has dealings with the darker, unsavory sides of the world cannot make for a good king and raise a prosperous kingdom."

Princess Daphne might not have been his favorite daughter, but King Cyrus once had high hopes for her as well. She was still his eldest daughter, and now that she had shown proficiency in the arts of pyromancy, perhaps more roads could be open for her.

However, he also had not forgotten what he had promised to his darling Drusilla.

"Daphne," King Cyrus said, addressing his daughter directly without looking at Atticus, "why not you have a look around the gardens for a bit? Your mother had rearranged some of the flora and redecorated the area around the lake you used to play at. You might enjoy your time there."

His underlying meaning hadn’t gone flying over his head.

’Leave,’ he meant. ’You’re not wanted here.’

There was no need for her to stay as well. She trusted that Atticus could handle his own and she, too, would be more than happy to raze this childhood prison to the ground if it ever came down to it.

"That does sound interesting," she said with a pleasant smile on her face. "Perhaps I would have a look at it, in that case."

She leaned over, purposely planting a lingering kiss against her husband’s lips before standing up. Her smile was coy, her hands holding onto his until their fingers had no choice but to part due to the distance between them, and up until Daphne had completely disappeared behind the door, Atticus’s eyes had been stuck to her.

Only a fool wouldn’t be able to see the power she held over him. If King Cyrus hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought that his daughter had given the king of Vramid a love potion.

The moment Daphne was gone, light seem to also have disappeared from Atticus’s eyes. His expression darkened as he relaxed against the backrest of his seat. Leaning back, he lazily glanced over at his father-in-law; he obviously held no respect for this old man.

"Why is it you’ve kidnapped my daughter from her intended wedding and yet, she still is charmed so heavily by you, and you by her?" King Cyrus asked.

"My queen is a woman of many talents and plenty of allure," Atticus calmly replied. "Only a fool wouldn’t be seduced by her beguiling beauty― not just of her appearance but of her heart."

Albeit a feisty one.

"Now that she’s gone, what is there that you have to tell me that my wife isn’t allowed to listen in to?" Atticus immediately questioned. Venom laced his words, tinted with a warning.

"It is nothing too serious," King Cyrus replied. "Just a question from a man to a man."

He sat a little straighter. Atticus did not like the smile on the man’s face.

"King Atticus," Cyrus said, "what do you think of my daughter, Drusilla?"