Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 381: Too Little Too Late I

Chapter 381: Too Little Too Late I

Daphne frowned; this design looked oddly familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she had seen it despite the nagging sense of unease in her mind. She carefully wrapped it in a handkerchief to prevent it from cutting herself, before tucking it into her pocket.

Zephyr squeaked, staring at her with pitiful eyes, begging to be let out of his watery prison. Daphne decided to compromise by releasing him and tucking him under her arm instead, where he made a pleased trill.

"Come to think of it, Zephyr, where is everyone?" Daphne asked, her lone human voice echoing lowly through the empty infirmary.

The guards that Atticus promised were all missing. Something must have happened to them― they wouldn’t have left their posts otherwise; they had too much fear and respect for Atticus’s orders to disobey him so flagrantly.

Did the intruder work with someone in the palace to get rid of them? But she had caught no sign of a struggle, no dead bodies slumped against the wall. It wasn’t like Jean Nott’s first escape from the dungeons.

There were just too many mysteries. This, paired with the lateness of the hour and the unexpected exertion, left her with a vicious headache. Her eyes were once again drawn to Sirona’s ominous notes. Zephyr looked down and saw a picture of his wings and let out an affronted squawk. Daphne wondered if he could understand writing in this form.

It was too much of a coincidence, wasn’t it?

Sirona could theoretically write about harvesting Zephyr’s wings, but there was no way she would arrange this kidnapping. Sirona loved to experiment, but she was first and foremost a healer. She wasn’t a criminal!

Daphne shook her head as her fingers twitched.

Sirona was a friend. She had saved everyone more times than Daphne could remember. Besides, if she truly meant Zephyr harm, she could have struck at any time. God knows there were moments when Daphne was completely incapacitated.

But Zephyr’s life was at stake. With a mental apology to Sirona, Daphne quickly grabbed at a bunch of her notes and stuffed them into her pockets, before knocking over the copy of History of Magic and setting fire to the desk.

Zephyr let out a surprised squawk as he saw the flames rise.

Sirona wouldn’t know her notes were missing if she believed they were all burnt to a crisp.

As the fire burned merrily, she heard the sound of footsteps running towards the infirmary. Quickly, Daphne bolted away from Sirona’s desk to return to Zephyr’s bedside, making it look like she had never stolen her notes, despite the contents whirling in her mind.

The door of the infirmary opened to reveal Atticus, whose eyes widened when he caught sight of her cradling Zephyr in her arms. Jonah was behind him, and both Atticus and Jonah’s mouths fell open in surprise when they caught sight of the burning desk.

Sirona was going to lose her mind.

"Put out that fire!" Atticus ordered, and his men got to work. Daphne gritted her teeth. So Sirona’s desk took precedence over her welfare?

As though he sensed her ire, Atticus quickly turned to her.

"Daphne! Are you alright? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in bed?" Atticus fired a barrage of questions as he looked Daphne over for injuries.

Daphne shook her head, giving him a cross look.

"I’m fine," Daphne said, "In fact, I should be asking where on earth you were! If I wasn’t here, someone would have made off with Zephyr with us being none the wiser. Where were your men? Didn’t you promise me that you’ll have your men protecting Zephyr from all corners? In the end, I saw neither the head nor tail of them!"

The more Daphne ranted, the angrier she became. Even if someone had ill intentions toward Zephyr, how could Atticus offer so little protection? Especially in Zephyr’s weakened state― it was as though he wanted someone to come and steal him!

As she ranted, Jonah slowly inched away, thankful that he was not the focus of Daphne’s ire for now. The fire was extinguished, but there was no saving Sirona’s lost notes.

Daphne continued to yell, "Even the chickens raised by the kitchen staff were given more defense against predators, yet Zephyr got nothing― the window was still wide open for any daredevil to sneak inside and snatch him up!"

Atticus was gobsmacked at Daphne’s words. He blinked, as if finally registering the emptiness of the room, and the burnt curtains.

Then he asked, "Daphne, you’re saying that someone tried to kidnap Zephyr tonight?"

"Exactly! Did you lose your sense of hearing? Do you think I set fire to curtains and desks for fun?" Daphne burst out, enraged. In her arms, Zephyr let out a series of shrill cries, his beady eyes glaring daggers into Atticus’s face, as though blaming him for his failure to keep him safe. "I managed to fight him off for now, but there’s a chance that he might try again in the future."

"I’ll place more guards―" Atticus started, but Daphne was so furious that she immediately cut him off, despite knowing that it was impolite.

"From now on, I’ll be sleeping with Zephyr in the infirmary," Daphne said firmly. "Either that, or he sleeps with me in my room. You can sleep elsewhere."

"What?" Atticus demanded in surprise, "We can just share a room together with him, there’s no need―"

"No, I’m very mad with you. If you’re not moving out of the room, I will," Daphne said, and her words echoed in the quiet of the infirmary.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out, willing herself to calm down. She needed the space to think about everything that she had learned tonight and look through the stolen notes, and she couldn’t do it with Atticus hovering around her.

It didn’t miss her notice that Atticus still had not responded to her original question regarding his whereabouts.

Jonah looked for a way to break the tension; he hastily looked around and caught sight of the daggers embedded in the wall behind Sirona’s burnt work desk. He quickly drew attention to them.

"Are these the daggers thrown by the intruder?" Jonah asked as he began to pry them away from the wall. They were thrown without enough force that they left tiny indents on the wall. If they had hit Daphne, she would have been in a world of pain.

"Yes," Daphne said icily. "He was aiming for me."