Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 264: Dark Experiments I

Chapter 264: Dark Experiments I

Even the heavy rain could not mask the smoke and ash that had been caused by the dragon’s havoc. It had been a week since the mysterious dragon’s attack in Wethstadt and yet, the rumors and gossip of the crown prince’s unfortunate circumstances hadn’t ceased.

Even as Silas trudged through the dreary roads of the red-light district, he could hear the patrons and staff alike whisper about what had happened during that fateful day.

He couldn’t blame them, truth be told. It was a rather gory sight and a harsh slap of reality.

The townsfolk present had all witnessed how a foreign king, the very same their once-useless princess had married, had so effortlessly — and quite literally — disarmed their would-be ruler.

"If you ask me, he’s not fit to be king," a rich merchant said, noisily chewing on the grapes that the harlots fed him. He had one woman in each arm, dressed scantily with so much skin showing that even the women of Nedour would turn an eyebrow up at their choice of fashion.

"I heard that he might not be," one woman replied. She plucked another grape for the man, waiting for him to finish chewing before placing it right at his lip so he wouldn’t have to move too far just for the fruit.

"Oh, yes," the other woman said. "Apparently, His Majesty was considering replacing him with a different prince. Either that or the kingdom might go to Princess Leonora or Princess Daphne."

"Princess Daphne?" the man echoed, sitting up straight at the mention of that name. "That’s impossible! She’s married to a foreigner. And a king at that. If she takes over the kingdom, we would all fall under Vramid’s jurisdiction."

The first woman nodded. "A good play, however, considering Vramid’s military might is unrivaled by any other kingdom. If they were to wage war, they would no doubt win. The other princes and princesses had already offended Vramid’s queen too much. If she doesn’t succeed Reaweth’s throne... Reaweth’s era of peace might not be for long."

"She is also rumored to be the next strongest child of King Cyrus," the second woman added. "Well, she is the strongest now, considering Prince Alistair’s... circumstances."

When Silas stepped into the room, all the chitter chatter instantly hushed. He was never one to wear an enchanted mask to places like this― he liked showing off his good looks and reveled in the attention he often got from the women working in the brothels simply because he was a prince.

Just because his brother had been rendered a handicap now didn’t mean that he was about to start hiding whenever he desired to find joy elsewhere.

"Your Highness," a beautiful woman greeted, instantly walking over.

She had on a thin, silk dress, barely even hanging onto her figure with just the thin straps on her shoulders. The light pink material greatly complemented her fair complexion, accentuating her sensual hourglass physique, complete with a cinched waist and sculpted hips.

Even without the help of a corset, she still had a figure women across the world would kill for. With no surprise, she was the star of this particular brothel, one of the only few women Prince Silas would choose to spend the night — and some occasional afternoons — with.

"Lottie," Silas nodded, "I’m surprised that business is up and running so soon after the attack."

The woman — Lottie — simply laughed. She held a hand up, daintily covering her lips as she did so. Light danced in her eyes as she slotted her hand into Silas’s, hooking their arms together and pressing his upper arm against her plentiful bosom.

"Oh, you jest, Your Highness," she said. "We have a business to run and mouths to feed! Of course we would still be up and running. I am sure you esteemed gentlemen would also love to have some company through these trying times."

She led him through the building and towards the back where the private areas were. There were rooms that had been cordoned off exclusively for the higher members of elite society. Anyone lesser than a baron wouldn’t be allowed in.

As usual, Lottie locked the door behind them once they entered the room. Silas tossed his coat on the couch before moving to the ensuite bathroom. He needn’t say another word before Lottie’s hands began to expertly move across his body, helping him remove his boots before eventually moving to his buttons.

Once he was fully unclothed, he stepped into the tub that had already been prepared for him. The warm water sloshed around when he entered, a sigh escaping his lips at the sensation as he closed his eyes, finally relaxed.

"Long day?" she asked. Her hands worked expertly on his shoulders, kneading and rubbing at the tight knots that had formed under his skin.

"A long week," Silas said.

When met with silence, Silas opened his eyes. His gaze searched for Lottie’s eyes, though hers was entirely trained on his toned arms and broad shoulders. She seemed ever the hard worker, but having interacted with her for so long, Silas knew that the woman was simply trying to mask her curiosity.

"You can ask," he said. "I know you want to."

Finally, she tore her eyes away to meet his gaze. A slow smile curved her lips, delicate and dainty like a flower petal. Her eyelashes fluttered, the long strands grazing the apples of her cheeks whenever she looked down or blinked.

It was quite funny watching Drusilla try to imitate these behaviors all the time in front of the other members of the royal family. Having frequented so many brothels and red-light districts, he must admit, Silas was a little disappointed that Alistair would even fall for Drusilla’s low-class antics.

Lottie and the other women had this art mastered, so much so that it made Drusilla’s attempts look fake.

"Can you blame a woman for her curiosity?" she asked, pouting.

"Curiosity killed the cat, love," Silas replied. His eyes lingered on her rosy lips before rising again to meet her eyes. "While I am still in a good mood, you may ask whatever is on your mind."

"Oh, how gracious," she teased. When she smiled, two deep dimples formed on her cheeks, accentuating her beauty. "It’s just that the ladies were discussing Prince Alistair’s situation." She paused, then said, "They― Well, we were also curious about the right of succession."

Silas raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he mused. "I seem to have overheard some of your friends perfectly pinpointing my father’s plans."

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