Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 355: Oddly Merry II

Chapter 355: Oddly Merry II

"What did I say?" Atticus smirked, happily strutting into the room and past the horrified knight. "Good fucking riddance." His voice was sing-song, a skip in his step as he bent down to poke at the dead body.

Leonora was still reeling in shock. She gasped sharply, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stared at the corpse in front of her.

Other than the face, the entire body was mangled and ruined beyond recognition. Flesh and skin were colored in more shades than what should normally be on a human body. It seemed like Drusilla — or at least Leonora assumed she was Drusilla — had sustained several beatings and general abuse before she had eventually succumbed.

"Princess Leonora, aren’t you going to greet your lovely sister?" King Atticus teased, a huge sunny smile on his face as he poked and prodded at the dead woman’s forehead. "It’s a miracle you could even recognize her, considering how she wasn’t even fortunate enough to die with her own face."

Leonora winced. That was truly a fate she wouldn’t even wish upon her worst enemy, much less her own sibling. However, Drusilla deserved it, to say the least. She had wanted so badly to replace Daphne that she was even willing to replace her face.

She had made her bed and now, she must lie in it.

"Drusilla is the only one that would fit all of the clues you’ve given," Leonora said.

She stepped forward, pursing her lips. As a veteran warrior, Leonora had seen her fair share of mangled dead bodies. It was still jarring, however, to see a sibling dead.

"She may not be my favorite sibling but she was still someone I grew up with," she continued. "It’s only fair that I would recognize her. I am more curious as to how you did, King Atticus."

"Please," Atticus said with a snort as he rolled his eyes. "She is the only woman dumb enough to do such a thing."

"And I suppose Your Majesty has also figured out how Drusilla became this way?"

"The handiwork of your sweet older brother, of course," Atticus said. There was no harm in sharing what he knew― the Molineros had the right to know what sort of monstrosity their previous heir-apparent had been.

He stood up, folding his arms across his chest as he used the toe of his shoes to flip the woman over. She flopped lifelessly onto her back, her head rolling to one side.

Atticus was feeling generous. Seeing Drusilla’s corpse was the cherry on top of the cake.

Thus, he said, "Ran his experiments on the women of your palace and turned a bunch of them into blondes, all to perfect the recipe so that he could turn Princess Drusilla into a copy of my wife."

Leonora sighed. That sounded something like her deranged brother would do. Ever since he had been relieved of his hand, Alistair’s brain worked a lot more differently than the average folk, and not in the best way. Worse, if her father had caught wind of this before everything turned so disastrous, Leonora was sure that he would’ve supported Alistair and Drusilla’s grand schemes.

She didn’t particularly like King Atticus, and her sister Daphne even less. However, with how everything turned out in the end, she was starting to understand why these two had to act in such a way.

Her family was absolutely demented.

"And you found her out," Leonora deduced.

"Hard not to," Atticus said with a scoff. "Princess Drusilla might’ve charmed her way into many men’s beds but she still had a lot more to learn before she could be a perfect copy of Daphne."

It was difficult to imitate perfection, after all, and that was what Daphne was in Atticus’s eyes.

Leonora had nothing more she wanted to ask. She walked forward and took one look at the metal chains. They seemed to be made of something dark and upon closer inspection, Leonora realized it wasn’t even metal at all. Her eyes flitted over to the ring that sat snugly on Atticus’s finger.

Those chains were made of obsidian. There was no way Drusilla would’ve been able to break out of them even if she had the capacity to do magic. Judging by the state of her body and the lack of crystals around, there was no way Drusilla could’ve summoned even a spark, much less a flame. To have her use two elements would be impossible, even if she was at her best.

"How did she end up here?" she murmured, wondering out loud.

"How else?" Atticus snorted. "Alistair must’ve sold his good little sister over to Jean Nott for the extra doses that turned him into the monster he is. Quite deserving, to be frank."

Leonora wisely kept her mouth shut. Her instinct was to retort that King Atticus had been the one to create the need for Alistair to seek out Jean Nott in the first place, but then again, Alistair would’ve kept his hand if he had been smarter with his actions. Unlike her brother, Leonora was fairly capable of learning from others’ mistakes.

She cleared her throat and gestured to the door, ordering for the knight to stand guard outside in case Alistair chanced by the red light district again. Then, she made her way out, only turning back when she was already almost out of the room.

"There were documents on the tables outside," she said. "If this was Jean Nott’s hideout, there could be something important."

"Nott wouldn’t leave something important behind unless it’s something he wants us to see," Atticus immediately said. "But I suppose it’s better than staying in this room with a corpse."

He sauntered away, throwing a look back at Leonora, who stood unmoving. Her gaze was fixated on her half-sister’s dead body.

"There’s a bloodsucking monster out there on the loose," Atticus reminded. "I wouldn’t want to carry a dead body with me if I were you. He might get attracted to the blood."

Leonora’s eyes gleamed. She slowly turned to face Atticus, a confident smirk pulling the corner of her lips up.

"Isn’t that exactly what we want?"

Atticus’s smile matched hers.

"You know, Princess Leonora," he said, "I am starting to appreciate the way your mind works."