Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 309: Scabbing Wounds

Chapter 309: Scabbing Wounds

"I left you alive," Queen Anette corrected, steel in her eyes as she finally met her daughter’s indignant gaze. "Better to be powerless and miserable than a head on a pike, or god forbid, sold to a brothel."

Daphne’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her mother wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t entirely right either.

"Mother, if you knew I wasn’t entirely powerless... then why didn’t you say anything? Do anything? If you didn’t want to tell me as a child, why didn’t you tell me when I grew up?" Daphne demanded, the weight of all the insults and ill-treatment she endured as a youth rising to the surface.

Her voice became a plaintive cry for help, and tears formed in her eyes. She quickly scrubbed them away with her hands.

"Why did you let me continue living, believing I was useless?" Daphne continued, upset. It was a fate worse than death. "Why didn’t you speak up for me? Why did you ignore me all these years?"

"That... that fault was entirely my own," Queen Anette admitted, shame coloring her voice. Daphne was stunned to see a wet film of tears forming in her mother’s eyes. "As the years passed and you failed to develop any abilities, I couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes. Forgive me, I simply felt too guilty."

Daphne’s heart stuttered in her chest.

"I... I did not want to admit that I might have made a mistake when it came to you. I was worried... I wondered if I had permanently stunted your powers for good when I fed you those black market remedies. My prodigious daughter, so skilled at three, only to grow up to do no magic. How could I face you after? How could I tell you the truth?"

The queen’s breath was shaky.

"I ruined your life!" Those words escaped Queen Anette’s throat in a ragged sob, and tears escaped from her eyes. They rolled down her face, and the always-composed Queen hurriedly wiped them away with her fingers, her own shoulders shaking to regain her calm. Yet more tears continued to fall.

If Daphne was stunned before, it was nothing compared to now as she saw her mother cry in front of her.

"Mother!" Daphne cried out, looking frantically for a napkin, "Don’t cry!"

Daphne was at a loss for words. Seeing her mother shed tears over her was more terrifying than staring down her kidnappers. Despite that, Daphne’s heart warmed at the knowledge that she was loved.

She wasn’t born useless. Her mother loved her enough to feel guilt over her treatment. That was more than what she expected from her.

To her surprise, her mother continued.

"I have failed you immensely as your mother," Queen Anette said shakily. "All apologies I make now would be futile, yet I must apologize anyway. I am sorry for your ill-treatment. Motherhood is rife with mistakes, and I made more of them than what should be allowed."

Daphne sucked in a breath. Hearing those words... it was as though the wound in her heart was slowly scabbing over.

Her mother was admitting to her mistakes.

"But I am glad that you have thrived beyond my wildest dreams. With your abilities and King Atticus by your side, I can rest assured knowing that at least one of my children will live a happy life."

Queen Anette gave Daphne a tremulous smile, and she stood up, gathering her skirts. "You’ll be a great queen. And when you become a mother, you’ll do far better than I did."

"Mother..." Daphne blinked back her own tears. "I..."

"Now, let’s take a look at the dress. I noticed you didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it. If it matters a lot to you, I’ll make other arrangements."

Daphne nodded, and the conversation slowly turned away from long-concealed family secrets to something more frivolous like dress designs. The atmosphere in the room grew warmer.

Her mother had wronged her. There was no denying that. But Daphne would be foolish to ignore the olive branch offered by her mother out of spite. The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and Blanche even returned with more cake to share.

The knot in Daphne’s heart slowly loosened. It was... surprisingly nice to spend bonding time with her blood family.

***

"No no no! This isn’t working! Fuck this! Fuck everyone!" Alistair roared as he sent his latest experiment crashing to the floor. "Worthless piece of shit!"

Hazelle jumped as various glass implements, each containing a mixture created from expensive magical ingredients, shattered on impact. Their contents splashed over the marble floor, causing a putrid scent to fill the air. She noticeably avoided the terrified bound women softly crying in the corner.

Hazelle plastered her best supportive look on her face as she gingerly made her way closer to her husband, taking care to avoid the multiple glass shards scattered all over the floor. Her husband had moved to his new quarters, which were a distance away from the palace. Normally, his parents would have made a huge fuss, but with Daphne’s coronation date all but set in stone, no one cared enough to raise questions about his absence.

He wasn’t important enough for them anymore.

Now, her husband had lost whatever little calm he had left. He was now a man singularly obsessed with his goal of regaining his hand, even forgoing necessities like sleep and food to achieve his goals.

Hazelle had to gently remind him to rest― if he collapsed, how was he going to achieve vengeance?

Yet her words fell on deaf ears. Day after day, her husband looked less like a prince and more like a raving lunatic, refusing to even bathe. His hair was in a frenzied mess and his clothes creased and crumpled.

He glared at her with bloodshot eyes and brandished his half-grown hand angrily.

"I’m so close... Look Hazelle! Look! I’m only missing my fingers!" Hazelle nodded quickly, in case he lost his temper again. "But that damn Daphne... the disguise doesn’t last! That bastard will never be fooled at this rate!"

"I have an idea," Hazelle began hopefully, "Would you be open to listening?"

"Speak," Alistair growled out. His wife better have something he could use.

"Reaweth used to be home to kelpies. I read that they have incredible shape-shifting capabilities― perhaps if we find one, it might make the potion’s effects more potent."

"A kelpie?!" Alistair’s expression darkened as he thought of the impossibility of that task. The kelpies had all but died out, and he had only seen one scrawny being as a child.

Oh wait. That wasn’t true, was it? He recalled the kelpie sighting in Raxuvia, and Prince Nathaniel running himself ragged to try and catch it since it was targeting his precious beloved woman.

It wasn’t in Raxuvia now. Alistair would bet his remaining hand on it. Previously, his servants had reported seeing a strange unknown man at the lake along with his sister and that flying pet of hers. The bird kept calling the man a ’stupid water horse.’

That same unknown man was still spending time with Daphne.

A manic glint entered his eyes, and he threw his head back and howled with laughter, before pressing a quick kiss to Hazelle’s lips. Hazelle inwardly shuddered at the smell but held still.

"Wife, you might have just given me the solution to all my problems."

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