Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 288: Downgrade

Chapter 288: Downgrade

Daphne and Atticus had only gotten a few quick bites before he claimed that he had to visit the washroom. Daphne had expected him to be gone for only ten minutes at most, assuming that the washroom was tucked away in some secluded corner of the lake house and Atticus needed time to navigate there and back.

Then another five minutes passed.

And another five.

Atticus still had not returned. Daphne pursed her lips behind her glass of wine, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. Did Atticus suffer some form of intestinal mishap from the food? No, that seemed highly unlikely since most of the guests were still milling around, chatting gaily amongst themselves. None of them had to take an extended bathroom break.

Which meant that something must have held Atticus back. Whatever it was, it had to be something capable for Atticus to forget a promise to her. Daphne decided that enough was enough; she was going to search for her wayward husband herself.

She quickly finished her drink and returned the glass to the server, preparing to leave the ballroom.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Hazelle glided up towards her, a stunning vision in gold silk, her long brown hair styled into an elegant chignon. On her arm was Drusilla, dressed in a sweet baby-pink gown, her hair in soft ringlets that complemented her innocent doe eyes.

"Sister Daphne! How good of you to have made it!" Drusilla smiled, her voice loud enough to carry over to several onlookers. "Why are you standing here all by your lonesome? Do you need us to help you make the necessary introductions?"

"Isn’t it obvious? Her husband had abandoned her," Hazelle replied smugly. "It’s nice to see you again, Princess Daphne."

Hazelle’s deliberate misuse of her title rankled Daphne’s nerves, and she internally cursed herself for finishing her wine too quickly. She needed another glass to fortify herself.

Or to throw into their faces.

"How could I have missed this? It’s my first event as the crown princess. My mother did a marvelous job organizing it, didn’t she, Duchess Hazelle?" Daphne retorted knowingly.

Drusilla’s eyes twitched as Daphne easily emphasized her new position and reminded eavesdroppers about her relationship to the queen, all while subtly backhanding Drusilla’s own status.

Hazelle didn’t look too pleased either. Now that Alistair lost his position, she was no longer Crown Princess. She had also helped with the organization of this event, but Daphne didn’t acknowledge her efforts either.

Hazelle couldn’t claim that she helped without looking like she was petty and desperate for credit or acknowledgment.

So she willed herself to calm down and replied with a smile. "I am surprised you are alone. Shouldn’t King Atticus be with you? He seemed plastered to your very being when you first entered the premises. Surely he wouldn’t be so ungentlemanly to leave you unaccompanied for such an important event!"

Daphne plastered a benign smile on her face. "I’ll live while my husband answers a call of nature. I’m sure he’ll be back soon enough. After all, he did show up." She gave Hazelle a knowing look, alluding to her own lack of husband on her arm.

"I can’t help but worry about you, Hazelle. I notice my brother is not in attendance?" Daphne made a big show of looking around the ballroom, her mouth falling open in surprise. "He left you to be escorted by Drusilla? That is very... sweet of him."

"He is a man with many responsibilities," Hazelle said stiffly. "You wouldn’t understand."

"Responsibilities even after he has been stripped of his duties?" Daphne asked, innocent confusion painting her features.

Onlookers began to murmur among themselves. Prince Alistair’s absence was noted with some disappointment― many of them wanted to see the proof of his disability for themselves.

A muscle jumped in Hazelle’s jaw. Of course, her husband had refused to attend. Stripped of his hand and his position, he was in no condition to mingle with polite society, despite Hazelle’s best attempts to convince him otherwise.

They were scheming against Daphne, but her husband didn’t even want to show up! Useless man!

Drusilla smiled sweetly even as she noticed the insult in Daphne’s words. Drusilla was not an escort― no matter what, she was, at the very least, a member of the royal family. Something Daphne would not be if their plans went off without a hitch.

"Brother Alistair has always worked hard, but recently he has been feeling under the weather. I’m sure he will recover with more rest. Nothing will keep him down for long," Drusilla said, looking every inch the precious younger sister that radiated faith.

Daphne saw how Hazelle’s eyes quickly flicked to Drusilla in distaste. Huh. How interesting.

"No wonder my brother cares so much for Drusilla, his own sister defends him more ardently than his wife," Daphne said, giving Hazelle a pitying smile. "I guess I was mistaken. It turns out that Duchess Hazelle is the one escorting Drusilla instead. After all, it’s all too clear who his favored woman is."

Hazelle flushed an ugly purple and all but flung Drusilla’s hand away from her. To say she was humiliated would be an understatement.

So it wasn’t only her who thought there was something strange going on between Alistair and Drusilla. She caught the knowing look in Daphne’s eyes and felt like she was going to be sick.

Drusilla gasped in horror, reaching for Hazelle, her eyes brimming with tears as if she had prepared a stockpile beforehand. If she wasn’t a bastard princess, Drusilla would have made a fine addition to the theater.

"Sister Daphne! How can you imply such a... disgraceful thing? I have nothing but the utmost respect and sisterly affection for Brother Alistair and Sister Hazelle! Brother Alistair loves his wife very much. How could you drive a wedge between them like this? This is most uncharitable of you, Sister Daphne!"

Daphne snorted. Drusilla had done more to insult Hazelle in her words than anything Daphne could throw at her, and judging by the way Drusilla’s face paled, she had known it too. Hazelle stormed off, with Drusilla chasing her heels.

"Well, I must say I did not expect to stumble on such a scene. You handled that confrontation marvelously."

Daphne whirled around, hoping that Atticus had returned, but her heart sank in disappointment at the unfamiliar voice. Sure enough, she saw Duke Lanperouge instead.

He glanced at the two departing women before smiling at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he held two glasses of wine in his hands.

"Duke Lanperouge," Daphne said politely, making no move to take a glass, but he was undeterred.

"May I treat you to a glass of wine? You seemed to be very engaged with conversation. A drink for your parched throat?"

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