Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 354: Oddly Merry I

Chapter 354: Oddly Merry I

"Yes, Your Majesty!" the knight squeaked out. He bowed so low that it looked as though his forehead was about to slam onto the ground.

Walking in front, the knight quickly led them to an inconspicuous little hut wedged between some of the better-known brothels in the district. He stood in front of the door, silent and patient as Atticus and Leonora dismounted from their horses.

Leonora frowned, examining the door.

It didn’t look like it had been damaged. Whoever the deceased was, they probably weren’t killed by Alistair. After all, the rest of the street was in tatters. Windows barely hung on the frames, glass, and wood were everywhere, and even the furniture had been scattered out into the open.

"The body is in here?" Leonora asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Yes, Your Highness," the knight replied. He pushed open the door and led them in.

Leonora’s garnet ear studs and bangle began to glow bright scarlet. The moment it began to pulsate, a small flame lit up in the center of her palm. It was just enough to light the way.

In comparison, Atticus walked leisurely slowly behind. He even had the luxury to whistle a jolly tune under his breath, his footsteps light as he trailed behind Leonora. Every once in a while, he would look left and right, his mood much better than before.

Lips twitching, Leonora itched to ask King Atticus just what exactly he was so merry about. He didn’t seem any bit worried at all for Daphne’s safety.

A part of Leonora felt calmed down by his behavior― she trusted the king’s judgment when it came to his wife. Hence, it was highly unlikely it would be Daphne’s dead body they would find in this building. However, how was he so sure that it wasn’t her?

Even Leonora, who had been the last one out of those who were dispatched to search the town, couldn’t be so sure of herself. Unless there was something that King Atticus already knew that he hadn’t bothered sharing with the others.

"If I may," Leonora started, ultimately unable to keep her curiosity to herself. The curious cat might die but those animals had nine lives. She could afford to lose one. "Are you not worried at all, King Atticus?"

Maybe she and her entire family had all been wrong. Perhaps King Atticus didn’t give a rat’s ass for Daphne’s safety after all, and their marriage was an act for a bigger plan in the shadows. Daphne might even be unaware of it all, kept thinking that her husband had truly loved her up until her last breath.

"Of course not," he breezily replied. "My wife is safely snug in the infirmary with the best healer I know. What is there to worry about?"

Alright. That meant that his caring act was not a complete scam, at least.

"How are you so sure?" Leonora asked.

They followed the knight down a long hallway before trailing down a flight of stairs. Without windows, this place was eerily dark. They had passed by some tables with suspicious shredded documents and scattered empty bottles, but they weren’t anything too worthy of attention when there was a bigger fish to fry.

If needed, they could always have a better look later.

Atticus shrugged. "I’ve had a rather peculiar night during Daphne’s coronation ceremony," he said. "And for that, I believe I owe you all an explanation, at least."

Leonora pursed her lips. That, he did.

After all, she and the rest of her family had been cordoned off from a section of their own home without rhyme or reason. King Atticus had never properly provided any explanations for why he had done such a thing, only that Daphne had been injured.

But how? Why was she even in such a state when just minutes ago, before she was found unconscious outside, Leonora had still caught sight of her older sister mingling with guests?

Unless...

"You’re fully expecting to see Daphne’s dead body," Leonora said. "However, that is just another woman wearing her face."

King Atticus’s lips twitched in interest. A light glinted in his clear eyes, the bright gold reflecting the light of the flame from Leonora’s palm. He looked devilishly smug, almost as though he was impressed that Leonora could figure it out and pin it down so quickly.

"I see now why the royal battalion of Reaweth is under your command and not your idiotic brother’s," he remarked.

A wave of pride swelled in her chest. Leonora didn’t even care that King Atticus had so blatantly insulted her older brother because it was true― a truth that her father would never admit out loud last time back when it mattered.

Out of King Cyrus’s children, only two qualified for the throne back then― Alistair and Leonora. Before Daphne had awakened her powers, Alistair was the crown prince merely because he was the oldest and because he was a son, not a daughter. If it weren’t for the fact that he had messed up so badly, Daphne wouldn’t have had a chance.

Just like how Leonora never had the chance despite being the more capable sibling, all because she was a woman.

"There was a woman interacting with the guests during Daphne’s coronation ceremony," Leonora said. "My guess is that Your Majesty might have encountered her that night?"

Atticus nodded, amusement dancing across his face. His lips twitched. "That is accurate."

"Judging by what you said just now, the imposter must be someone we know?" Leonora continued. She then pursed her lips, the cogs in her head spinning.

’Farewell to a family member.’ Those were King Atticus’s exact words. ’Good riddance.’

Other than Alistair, there was perhaps only one other member of the Reawethen royal family who could’ve offended King Atticus so much. It was enough for him to wish death upon them. If they hadn’t been murdered by fate, he might’ve done it himself.

Now it was Leonora’s turn to smile. After all that had happened in the last few months, ever since Daphne had gotten married to King Atticus, she couldn’t help but agree with the king of the North.

That woman was only a family member because their good-for-nothing father couldn’t keep it in his pants. He had betrayed his marriage and once the fruits of that labor had been birthed and raised, he had tried to encourage his child to do the same.

Good riddance indeed.

"King Atticus, Princess Leonora."

The knight’s voice pulled both their attention to him. They silently watched as the knight stepped aside to reveal a woman on the floor, lying in a pool of her own blood.

Her long platinum blonde hair had been soaked through, dyed a faint shade of pink where it touched the blood. Heavy metal chains held her down, preventing her from escaping the room while she had been alive. She was dressed in nothing more than a sheer white dress that had now become red with fresh blood and brown with old stains.

Even while dead, her blue eyes were wide open, indignant at her unfortunate demise. They seemed to pierce directly into Leonora’s soul, causing her to shiver.

They truly looked uncannily alike. However, Leonora knew who that was, despite the body bearing Daphne’s face.

"Drusilla..."