Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 351: A Sibling’s Duty

Chapter 351: A Sibling’s Duty

Leonora paused. It wasn’t as though she was completely heartless to the plight of her twin; she could see how pale he was, and how his entire body shook like a leaf in the autumn breeze. His eyes darted frantically from the door to the windows, as though he expected to be ambushed.

Yet, it was simply illogical for her to stay with him when she could be doing more good on the streets, tracking and hunting down that menace. In fact, now that Silas had survived an encounter with Alistair, the bloodhounds would be able to catch his scent and hunt him down.

What could she do for him in the infirmary? She knew nothing about healing. Her ability to care for her brother was usually shown in the form of beating the shit out of people that dared to speak ill of him. She’d be a waste of space here.

"Silas, I have to go," Leonora insisted, refusing to let her heart waver as she caught a glimpse of the desperate look on her brother’s face. "I can’t afford to waste any more time."

"But he’s dangerous," Silas protested, his voice cracking, "I can’t even conjure up a single strong flame now." To prove his point, he held out his hand and focused. There was nothing but the faintest hint of a flame before it was snuffed out.

Prince Nathaniel and Sirona exchanged worried glances. Even if Prince Silas wasn’t the strongest fighter out of the Reawethen royalty, he was still regarded as a magical prodigy― all of them were. For him to produce such a weak flame was... pathetic, to say the least.

"Forgive me for the interruption, but you must tell us everything that happened to you," Prince Nathaniel said, a quill poised at the top of his leather-bound notebook. "Leave nothing out."

"The more we know, the faster we can get to treating you and stopping that vile creature," Sirona added. "You’ll make your sister’s life easier."

"Okay," Silas said, sounding frighteningly vulnerable in a way he had not sounded since he was a child. "I can handle that."

On the other side of the room, Daphne walked Leonora to the door. The latter kept looking back to glance at Silas. An uneasy feeling settled in her chest, much like the queasy sensation she had when she couldn’t contact Silas earlier in the day.

Daphne, who had noted Leonora’s uneasiness, offered her a small smile.

"He is in capable hands," she said. "Sirona and Prince Nathaniel are both great healers."

Leonora had a hand on the doorknob. She paused, snorting as she gave Daphne a deadpan expression. "Is this your way of comforting me?"

"I don’t know," Daphne said. "Do you feel comforted?"

"Not in the least bit," Leonora replied. However, her lips did twitch a little, which was a good sign. "Didn’t you say that you wanted to help?"

"I did," Daphne affirmed. "But you’re not going to let me lead a team of my own, are you?"

"The men assigned to Silas’s team will follow me instead," Leonora said. "If I were to support your wish of sending you out to look for Alistair, your husband will make sure I die before he leaves to hunt down Alistair or Jean Nott. So no."

Daphne shrugged. "Fair enough." She had figured that would be Leonora’s reply.

"You can, however..."

"Yes?"

Leonora pursed her lips. She then looked keenly at Daphne. For the first time since Daphne had known her younger sister, she had never seen Leonora make such an expression. Not to her, at least. She might be the older sister but Leonora had never shown her the respect a younger sister often would to their older siblings.

Yet, this time, Leonora looked like a child who was making a request, hoping the grown-up would help to make it come true.

"Take care of him," Leonora said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She turned back and looked at Silas, watching as he narrated his experiences with Alistair to Sirona and Nathaniel. The two healers keenly listened, their quills flying across the parchment as they scribbled down every last detail.

"He’s my younger brother too, you know," Daphne pointed out.

"We’ve not been very good siblings," Leonora stated.

"It’s nice to have self-awareness."

Leonora scowled but otherwise didn’t argue. She continued, "I wouldn’t be surprised if you used this chance to take revenge. Leave him to rot like..."

"Like you all left me?" Daphne finished. Leonora’s silence was an answer enough for her. She chuckled, then said, "Believe me, I could do that. A part of me wants to too. But I am not just your older sister, I am also the crown princess of Reaweth."

She smiled gently at her younger sister, someone whom she had never had positive feelings for before today. In all her life, Leonora had always been the headstrong, independent overachiever. Daphne barely interacted with her, and even when they did talk, it was never a pleasant conversation. As such, she had never seen a gentle side to Leonora.

Not until she realized the way Silas was treated in comparison to everyone else. Her twin brother was Leonora’s weak spot.

"If I am not out there on the battlefield, then the least I can do is to keep the people of Reaweth’s royal palace safe, right?" Daphne finished.

Leonora’s lips tightened into a straight line. She tore her eyes away from Silas and then turned her attention back to her older sister. With a grim nod, she twisted the doorknob and took a step out.

"Let me know at once if anything happens," Leonora instructed. "Anything."

"I’ll try," Daphne said, waving her hand to shoo her little sister away.

Leonora merely huffed before she slammed the door behind her, her footsteps slowly turning fainter and fainter as she walked off.

Silas, on the other hand, had just finished recounting his story. When he ended on the note that Alistair’s hand had been chopped off and regrown in less than five seconds, Prince Nathaniel and Sirona shared a look.

Their quills froze in midair, a blotch of ink splattering on the parchment.

"Is there anything else?" Sirona asked hesitantly.

She had a bad feeling churning in her gut ever since Silas started recounting the events that transpired. For one thing — and it was most likely the same reason why Prince Nathaniel had paused in his writing to look at her — Prince Silas’s face was turning paler and paler by the minute. His veins had also grown significantly darker than before.

"Not that I can think of," Silas answered. He bit his lip, drawing blood. The blood vessels in his eyes grew a little darker in color.

"Prince Silas," Nathaniel said, "did you by any chance... ingest Prince Alistair’s blood?"