Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 379: Haunting Scribbles

Chapter 379: Haunting Scribbles

When her hand fell against the cool mattresses, Daphne sat up in a startle. She hadn’t even noticed that she had fallen asleep, much less her companion had left her in the middle of the night.

The activities of the last couple of hours had left her body sore and aching beyond belief. Perhaps it wasn’t too good for her to leave her husband without release for so long― he would just turn into a savage beast afterward. Her hips were paying the price, but it was a welcome ache. She had missed lovemaking with her husband for too long.

"Atticus?" she hazily called out, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she scanned the room. The windows were left open, allowing the cool breeze to blow into the room, causing the sheer curtains to dance. However, there was no sign of Atticus.

Daphne reached down again and touched the bedsheets. They were cool to the touch, meaning Atticus must’ve left the room for a significant amount of time prior to her waking up. The bed no longer held his warmth and without him by her side, Daphne, too, felt a little cold.

She climbed up from the bed, wrapping a shawl across her shoulders as her feet padded across the floors to the door. First, she checked the ensuite bathroom, a little disappointed to find that Atticus wasn’t in there despite the lighted candles. Then, her eyes fell to the main doors of the bedroom.

Perhaps he left for a midnight stroll, unable to fall asleep? She wouldn’t be surprised. That amount of physical activity they just went through wouldn’t be enough for Atticus, especially after they had gone so long without intimacy.

Tightening the shawl around her shoulders, Daphne ventured out of the room. If it weren’t for Atticus, then her journey would be to get herself a midnight snack. Her stomach was already growling, a sensation much more unpleasant than the ache of her inner thighs.

In the middle of the night, the hallways of the royal palace were left deserted. There were barely any servants or staff members spotted. All that was left were wispy shadows cast by the brilliant silver illumination of the moon and the gold of the dancing flames of the candles.

Daphne had just headed down onto the ground floor where the kitchens were when she looked up and across the hallway― the infirmary was right there. She could afford to spare a couple of minutes to visit Zephyr.

Thus, she instead chose to change her course and headed for the infirmary instead.

However, the nearer she got, the more uneasy she felt. There was just something eerily off about tonight, beyond the empty bed, the lack of staff, and the silence of the night. Her suspicions were confirmed when she reached the infirmary only to see that not only was it left unguarded, the door was left slightly ajar.

Her heart plummeted as she picked up her pace. In her head, a thousand and one circumstances flashed through her mind. Maybe Zephyr would be gone. Dead, maybe? Plucked clean of his feathers with his bare body left dead and bleeding on the bed. Or perhaps, intruders could’ve kidnapped him whole, leaving nothing but an empty bed and disheveled sheets.

She burst into the room, the door slamming open as she hurriedly searched the four corners for the familiar figure. Daphne had only let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was even holding when she spotted Zephyr still in his bed, snoozing peacefully.

Instantly, her posture relaxed, all of the anxiousness and tension dissipating from her muscles as she made her way over. While Daphne wasn’t sure where the knights Atticus had posted had gone off to, she was at least glad that nothing happened to Zephyr while they were missing in action.

"Where did they all run off to?" Daphne chided softly under her breath, shaking her head.

She turned to look at Sirona’s usual spot in the infirmary― documents were scattered across the table, along with vials both empty and filled. Some of her notebooks were left wide open while others were shut. There were bookmarks marking certain pages, along with drawings and diagrams depicting things Daphne could not understand.

There was even a mug filled with half-finished cold tea, most likely left forgotten when Sirona had left the infirmary to rest for the night.

The breeze was particularly strong tonight. When yet another gust blew into the room, some of the documents on the desk were blown right off, sending them flying everywhere. Daphne reached for them immediately, picking up the scattered pieces before placing them back on the table. She picked up a random book, preparing to use it as a paperweight to hold the pieces of parchment down when her eyes landed on what the documents were even about.

Her heart warmed when she noticed sketches and scribbled writings of griffins. Clearly, Sirona and Prince Nathaniel had been working hard in an attempt to find a cure for Zephyr. That was something Daphne was grateful for.

Curiosity budded within her. She cast a quick glance at Zephyr, confirming that he was still peacefully asleep before she sat down and began to sift through the documents. Not all of these were personal notes written by the healers. Some of them were books from the royal library. Perhaps Daphne would be able to help out by finding something they could’ve missed.

She doubted she would be any better than the actual experts in this field, but an extra pair of eyes was better than nothing. Besides, Atticus wasn’t back yet. If he was, he would know to look for her here.

"Why is this here?" she murmured under her breath, noticing a familiar title from the corner of her eye. Picking it up, Daphne began to flip through. She hadn’t seen it wrongly. It was the book she had taken from the library with Blanche’s help earlier in her stay.

The History of Magic.

Those four familiar words shouldn’t have appeared here. However, she supposed it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Sirona to borrow it in hopes of finding something useful in there for Zephyr, or maybe even Silas.

Setting it aside, Daphne began to read the notes on griffins instead. Her frown grew with every passing second as her eyes scanned through the various notes on griffins and how they could be slain. Not much was documented about how to treat them, she could see that now. However, there was an odd amount of notes on how they could be killed.

Or worse, harvested.

Why was this book among Sirona’s notes?

Daphne hadn’t managed to keep a horrified gasp from escaping her lips when she came across a drawing of a pair of wings. They weren’t colored nor were the wings in the drawing depicted with any particular animal, but by inference, it could only be referring to a griffin’s wings.

Along with the drawing was a set of notes. They were more like messy scribbles, clearly in Sirona’s familiar handwriting. Dots, diagrams, and circles connected Sirona’s writing with her doodles.

Element: Air.

Feathers didn’t work.

Bone needed. Magic from bone marrow? Blood?

Cut from here to here.

The few pieces of parchment slipped from Daphne’s hands; it felt as though they had scalded her.

What exactly was Sirona researching?!

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