Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 410: Odd Decor

Chapter 410: Odd Decor

"Atticus!" She whirled around to gaze at her husband. There was a reddish flush on his face as he stared at her, blinking slowly under the lights. She hurriedly opened the door to their room and gestured to Atticus to enter. "Did you drink a lot?"

"Just a bit. Xahan’s food is very spicy, so I needed to drink to wash it down," Atticus said, his tone hoarser than usual as he gazed at Daphne and then at the huge bed prepared for their arrival. His wife looked paler than usual, but his attention was on the room’s decor. Daphne turned to see what he was looking at, and her mouth fell open.

There were flower petals strewn all over the sheets as scented candles glowed and bathed the room in a dim, romantic light. The heady scent of briscusberries and aedrove vine filled the room, causing Daphne’s body to heat up at the implications.

A long time ago, she and Atticus were affected by the same powerful aphrodisiac. She took shallow breaths and decided to focus on other things in the room, such as an innocent conversation with her husband.

"He must have done it on purpose then since my meal was nothing short of amazing," Daphne replied, deciding not to mention her upset stomach. Surely it would fade when she got a good night’s rest in a proper bed, instead of being forced to sleep on top of the carriage seats. "Then again, Cordelia helped me put in a word."

"How kind of her," Atticus said dryly.

He was offered no such consideration from the woman who wanted to seduce him months ago. Now, the princess of Nedour only cared for Daphne’s welfare, and Atticus was nothing more than a reluctantly tolerated add-on.

"Why did you take so long to return though? My dinner went long because we were stuck in negotiations," Atticus said. Hopefully, Daphne would never find out the terms of his negotiations. "I thought you’d be already resting here."

"Queen Lavinia invited me to see her youngest daughter."

A brief smile bloomed on her face as her mind recalled the memory of baby Bianca’s adorable little face, her delicate lashes fluttering open to reveal beautiful brown eyes, the way she yawned contentedly in her mother’s arms.

"She was so tiny, you should have seen her." Daphne held out her arms to estimate Bianca’s size. "She cried when I held her though. But still, she was lovely and so sweet."

"Oh." Atticus’s mouth went dry.

This was perfect. The heavens above could not have handed a better opportunity for him on a silver platter. Daphne liked babies. He needed babies. A child would make Daphne happy in the future, even if Atticus didn’t.

With Daphne’s kind nature, Atticus knew she would be capable of raising a child with his blood with love, even after she had written Atticus off for dead.

And if Daphne was pregnant, she wouldn’t be able to dig her nose into his business. Her priority would be keeping her unborn child safe.

That decided it. Atticus took a step forward, and then another. He would get Daphne pregnant, even if he had to fuck her through the night, and every night throughout their stay here in Xahan to do it.

Daphne paused, sensing the strange atmosphere. She had half-expected Atticus to complain about the uselessness of babies and how needy they were, but instead, Atticus’s eyes were drawn to her lips. Daphne’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, her mouth feeling strangely dry.

She had to break the heady atmosphere before she did something she regretted. Her eyes darted around the room and focused on the various oddities on the mantelpiece.

They were several strange, vaguely long objects, with rounded tips. Some of them had protruding parts, as though they were shoots off a plant. Some had bulbous parts along their length, and Daphne wondered if this was meant to illustrate some type of rare Xahan fauna.

Daphne walked over to them and held one curiously. It was a wide, girthy thing that felt cool to the touch. She held it up to the candlelight and marveled at the quality of jade used to carve it. It was quickly warming up in her hands.

Strangely enough, she couldn’t see any inscription on the carving that explained what it was. Maybe this was customary of Xahan’s interior decorations. She could picture Cordelia flinging them when she was angry.

Who was Daphne to judge?

"Wow, this is impressive," Daphne still commented, holding it up for Atticus to take. Atticus choked. "This jade is heavy; they must have spared no expense to make this."

Atticus could only reply with a garbled word. He knew exactly what those long, phallic objects on the mantelpiece were, even if his innocent wife did not.

He couldn’t believe his eyes! How could King Calarian outfit their room with carnal toys when Atticus was away? And how did he get his hands on so many varieties, so much so that they looked like a veritable garden when placed together?!

After he talked with Sirona, Atticus had taken a walk along the grounds to contemplate his next plan of action, forcing himself to sober up in the cold night air. He was sure they weren’t there when he entered the room with Sirona.

To think his servants worked so quickly. Atticus was both impressed and appalled that they could slip into his rooms so easily, and speechless at the audacity of King Calarian to offer such toys to visiting royalty.

If anyone dared to visit Xahan before, they definitely wouldn’t after this. Was this part of King Calarian’s plot to ward off visitors, much to his wife’s despair?

Was this why the couple had four children? Was it?

Was it?!

Oh gods, did King Calarian use them on his wife? Did his wife use them on him?

This was too much.

Atticus tugged at his collar, suddenly feeling too warm for clothes. King Calarian’s conversation replayed itself in his mind. Daphne needed to be with child for his plans to work, and the room was setting the mood marvelously.

And those stupid phallic toys were taunting him. Daphne’s hands were curled around one of them so easily, it just made him think of her wrapping her fingers around his hardened cock and jerking him off.