Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 286: Surprising Visitor

Chapter 286: Surprising Visitor

"We’re lost, aren’t we?"

"Of course we’re not." Jonah scoffed, peering at the device he had in his hand.

It was a new invention he had come up with, made with clear quartz and selenite. He had hoped that it would be enough to lead them to Jean Nott’s hideout but it seemed like this magic compass wasn’t working as it was intended to.

"We’re lost," Sirona said, her tone dead. "Just as I expected."

"You have such little faith in me."

"Needless to say," Sirona said with a scoff. She adjusted the hood that was over her head, making sure that her features were shadowed and out of view.

They had wandered around the red light district for hours. Yet, other than the nauseating scent of cheap perfume and the sound of rambunctious laughter paired with high-pitched squeals of delight, nothing stood out particularly. If anything, the streets looked just like every other that was lined with brothels. Even the ones back in Vramid looked more or less the same.

"I was so sure that this worked fine." Jonah frowned. "It gave credible results when I tested it with Atticus."

"Oh, give me that!" Sirona snapped.

She snatched the contraption from Jonah’s hands, eyeing it as the clear quartz needle in the center began to spin. Furrowing her eyebrows, Sirona gripped the compass tighter, channeling magic into it. The needle eventually slowed down before pointing to their right.

Only, there was no road on the right. Just a building.

"A sham," Sirona declared. "Maybe Jean Nott’s magic is too advanced for you."

"That is impossible," Jonah said. "Atticus and I worked hard on it day and night! We’ve already―"

He cut himself short when he spotted a figure a short distance away. Jonah’s eyes widened into saucers before he grabbed Sirona’s arm, ducking behind a random barrel and some plants.

"What are you―"

"Shh!" Jonah hushed. "Look!"

Even though she had her doubts, Sirona still turned in the direction that Jonah pointed to. She wondered if she had been too harsh on Jonah’s little experimental compass and if Jean Nott had indeed shown up.

However, when she caught sight of the same thing that had Jonah ducking and dodging, her eyebrows shot high up her forehead as her jaw dropped.

"Holy shit," she murmured. "What the hell is he doing here?"

The blond man might be wearing a hood but he hadn’t hid himself very well. Strands of his long hair had long fluttered out with the breeze. Even though he kept trying to tuck it back into his hood, the wind was relentless.

When he turned, his carnelian brooch caught the light of the nearby lights, its reflection glinting a little too brightly. Thankfully, everyone else in the area was a little too occupied to notice his jewels.

"He’s looking for the same person as us, isn’t he?" Jonah questioned.

"There’s no way he’s here alone," Sirona stated. "There must be some guards around."

She gazed around, squinting into dark alleyways and even to the second-floor balconies of brothels that overlooked their general area. Sirona quickly found what she was looking for.

"There," she said. "Two on the second floor right above us."

"I’ll take care of them." Jonah’s gaze darkened. "Take care of our little crown prince."

"Like you even need to ask," Sirona retorted.

Hearing her reply, Jonah nodded and quickly disappeared into the dark. That left the prince for Sirona to take care of. That wasn’t too hard. He couldn’t fight and Sirona wasn’t just an ordinary healer.

She traveled in shadowy areas, keeping clear of the guards’ line of sight. The man had been so engrossed in searching for the right building — most likely looking for where Jean Nott was hiding — that he hadn’t even noticed her approaching. The red light district had always been crowded anyway and it wasn’t too strange for elbows to bump.

That was what Sirona took advantage of. She slipped a needle out of her sleeve, pricking him when she walked past. The jab might’ve been small but how could a prince be clueless to an attack when he was raised to always be mindful?

Quickly, his body turned weak and he knew that something was amiss. Only, the moment the needle had broken through his skin, he was already done for.

When he turned, he was met with Sirona’s smile, dark and haunting. She was like a witch in the night, while his name was already written and burned for a ritual.

"Hello again, Prince Nathaniel," she greeted. "The red light district sure dulls our senses, doesn’t it?"

Prince Nathaniel’s eyes widened in horror when he realized who it was. His eyebrows knitted tightly together after a moment, gritting his teeth. Yet, when he tried to clench his fists in anger, he realized that he had already lost strength in them.

"Healer Sirona," he greeted in return, though his voice held no warmth beyond basic cordiality. "What a surprise to see you here. I assume you’ve given me a rather special gift?"

"Of course," she replied. "Handmade with love. Courtesy of your healers in Raxuvia."

His eyes flitted up to look in the direction where Sirona had found his guards previously. However, the crestfallen expression Nathaniel wore told Sirona that Jonah had accomplished his task swiftly and successfully.

"They’re rather preoccupied right now," Sirona said with a grin. "They will come find you later. Maybe."

"Crime against the crown is an act of war," Nathaniel reminded, his head starting to grow fuzzy. He staggered a little and Sirona quickly held onto him, making sure he didn’t slam face-first into the ground.

They didn’t need to make a scene.

"Oh, I’m sure," Sirona said nonchalantly. "But you’re not in Raxuvia and neither are we in Vramid. No one will know. Even if they do, it might be too late. Besides," she grinned, "what makes you think that Raxuvia can defend against Vramid if the king chooses to attack?"

Prince Nathaniel’s lips turned pale. He had to lean entirely on Sirona now, or else he would topple directly to the ground. As much as he tried to hold on, Nathaniel knew that his consciousness was slowly slipping through his grasp like water through his fingers.

"Sleep well, Prince Nathaniel," Sirona said. "We can talk later."