Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 304: Old Debts & New Bargains IV

Chapter 304: Old Debts & New Bargains IV

She was a little gratified to see the look of shock on Nathaniel’s face.

Good. At least that man still had some form of a conscience left.

"To get that bit of power..." Daphne trailed off. "Were you planning to bring me to him yourself?"

"I wouldn’t! But why would he want―" Nathaniel spluttered, now thoroughly confused. He looked up at Daphne, blinking like a concussed duck. "He’s still after you? I thought he would have given up."

"Your information network is faulty," Atticus interrupted easily. It was time for him to interrogate this despondent blond man. "Now, when and where did you last meet him?"

"A month ago. In Reaweth," was the reply that left Nathaniel’s lips easily. At that time, Daphne and Atticus were still safely sequestered in Vramid.

"Whatever for?"

"He wanted tree sap from the Temporal Elderwood tree in exchange for giving me a booster that’ll help improve my powers," Prince Nathaniel replied with a pained gasp. He didn’t want to admit his weaknesses, but the horse had already left the barn.

There was no way Daphne would want him over her beast of a husband who slayed a dragon. News of that feat had spread all the way to Raxuvia, which caused him to nearly double over in jealousy.

Nathaniel needed more power, more quickly, if he wanted to stand a chance of winning over Daphne, which was why he even made the visit to Reaweth despite the risks.

He wanted Daphne, and he wanted power. Either way, Jean Nott was the key to both.

"Do you know what he uses it for?"

"I do not. I felt that tree sap was too cheap a price to pay for a boost in magical ability, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth," Nathaniel replied easily, a frown crossing his face. "Do you have any idea?"

"I’m the one asking the questions here!" Atticus retorted peevishly, glad that he wasn’t dosed with blue kyanite. He had some idea of how the tree sap could play a part, but he wasn’t going to let that fucker Nathaniel know.

"Do you know why he’s in Reaweth?" Jonah asked.

"I do not know," Prince Nathaniel replied. "He could be in hiding?"

"Questioning you is really a waste of time," Atticus grumbled.

Prince Nathaniel, a stick in the mud that he was, didn’t bother to ask Jean Nott about his plans, so there wasn’t much they could dig out of him. The blue kyanite was truly wasted on this fool of a man.

"You’re the one that imprisoned me," Prince Nathaniel retorted balefully. "Now that you know that I know nothing, can you let me go? I won’t even seek retaliation. Once my ministers realize I’m missing, there will be an uproar!"

"Are you insane? If we were going to let you go so easily, we wouldn’t have captured you, to begin with," Atticus cackled meanly, and Prince Nathaniel shrank slightly back in trepidation."You are coming with us whether you want to or not."

Atticus turned to Jonah, gesturing at the prince on the couch.

"Jonah, carry him!"

"...What are you going to do with me? Hey― Hey!" Prince Nathaniel shrieked, as Jonah let out a weary sigh and hauled the Crown Prince of Raxuvia over his shoulder like he was no better than a sack of potatoes. "Put me down!"

"You’re going to lead us straight to Jean Nott. If you don’t... Raxuvia might find itself short of a ruler very soon," Atticus promised darkly.

***

Drusilla was caught in a pinch.

She had been caught in that said pinch for way longer than she wanted, admittedly, but at first, she had believed that her father and mother would find her a way out of it all.

After the hours bled into days, paired with King Cyrus’s obviously growing disdain for her, Drusilla knew that the clock was ticking when it came to the time left on her stay in Reaweth’s royal palace if she didn’t come up with something soon.

Her feet had found her towards Alistair’s room before she could even register the path she was taking. Before Hazelle had sabotaged her and stabbed her in the back, Drusilla and Alistair had tight familial bonds.

Or at least, she had assumed they did. Alistair had always treated her differently from the rest of his siblings, most likely because he didn’t perceive her as a threat to his eventual throne. Drusilla had also worked hard to butter him up, making her his favorite sister.

Alistair had a simple mind. It wasn’t difficult to figure out the way he thought, despite how clever he assumed himself to be.

Yet, now that Drusilla was more trouble than she was worth, Alistair had been quick to draw lines and distance himself. And it was all because of his no-good, backstabbing wife.

Hazelle Ferrowood did not deserve to be the crown princess, and especially not the future queen of Reaweth.

Now she stood in front of Alistair’s door, her hand in the middle of the air, not knowing whether or not she should knock on it. He might not even be in. Drusilla had caught sight of Alistair sneakily leaving the palace grounds more than a couple of times through her bedroom window.

"Is there something you need?"

Drusilla whirled around only to come face to face with Hazelle. The latter had an eyebrow raised and her hands resting on her hips. She looked down at Drusilla as if she was observing a disgusting worm crawling through the fields, and not a rightful princess of her kingdom.

Even if she was Alistair’s wife, now that her husband was no longer the crown prince, Hazelle was nothing but the daughter of a duke― that was something Reaweth had too many of and wasn’t of much value.

"You..."

Drusilla’s heart felt like it was starting to race. Anger flooded through her veins, rushing into every pore of her body. She felt her rage heat her own magic, causing the fire of the royal family to roar in her blood.

Her fists turned red with heat, turning up the temperature of the air around them.

She screamed, pointing at Hazelle square in the nose. "This is all your fault!"

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