Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 428: None The Wiser

Chapter 428: None The Wiser

When Daphne was finally awake, it was Atticus who found himself rubbing sleep from his eyes. He had gotten nowhere near enough sleep after their nighttime excursion, and yawns kept on emerging from his mouth.

Strangely enough, Daphne only seemed endeared at this display of pathetic tiredness from him, even as he was half-slumped in front of her during lunch. There was a marked change in her attitude towards him; the sweetness of her sleepy mumbles from the night before no daydream, they were as real as the grains of sand stuck in Atticus’s ears. And hair. And nearly every crevice of his clothes and shoes.

Atticus wondered what led to this shift in attitudes, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He had endured his fair share of misfortunes the night before― nearly dying in an explosion and getting spat at by a smelly camel.

And he would have to repeat this experience nightly until he got what he came for.

"How was the mining?" Daphne asked curiously as she prodded a piece of meat near Atticus’s mouth, feeding her exhausted husband with her own cutlery.

Atticus opened his mouth like a foolish child and chewed. His mind felt like it was shrouded in a deep fog, and all he felt was warmth and love from his wife in her care.

"Camels are stupid. Daphne, don’t ride camels," Atticus complained with a shudder. "Mine spat at me! Straight in my face!"

Daphne giggled and fed him another piece of meat. He ate it obediently.

"That’s good to know, but what about the mining? Are you done already?"

"Ha... Not even close," Atticus said.

He was a ruthless king, and ruthless kings didn’t whine like schoolboys, but Atticus wanted some sympathy from his lovely wife and he wasn’t beyond milking his suffering for all it was worth.

"Daphne, not only were the camels rude, there was sand everywhere, and the mines were so dilapidated... if Jonas’s bottom bumped into the wall, the whole thing might collapse with us in it. I thought I would die, and the cause of my death would be Jonas’s fat bottom!"

"Couldn’t you use magic to hold it up?" Daphne retorted, amused at her husband’s theatrics. Nothing could harm a man as powerful as Atticus.

"Can’t." Atticus’s shoulders slumped and the corners of his lips were downturned, the very picture of a miserable man. "The iron meteorites explode when they come into contact with magic."

"Oh..." Daphne had not known that. Queen Lavinia had missed out on this tiny detail when she mentioned their husbands would be out examining the iron meteorite mines. "That sounds... inconvenient."

"It is! Sunshine, you have no idea, I was hacking away at the rocks with a pickaxe. A pickaxe! Like a neanderthal," Atticus pouted, and Daphne smiled wider at Atticus’s re-enactment of his suffering. "And all I got were those tiny useless bits that couldn’t even save Silas’s pinky finger, let alone his whole body. My luck was so bad, please smack me in the head if I ever decide to gamble."

Daphne giggled harder, but all mirth left her eyes when Atticus continued to speak.

"Then an explosion happened. When I get my hands on the person responsible for this, I’ll wring his neck with my bare hands and let every camel in Xahan spit on him," Atticus growled out. "He must have wasted so much ore!"

"An explosion? Was anyone hurt? Did someone use magic?" Daphne asked quickly, worry clouding her voice.

Atticus shook his head wearily, "No, all of us were fine. No casualties. King Calarian is dealing with the aftermath now. I hope Queen Lavinia doesn’t mind me stealing her husband from her. I’ll need to go back there again tonight."

"Do you think King Calarian did it?" Daphne asked quietly, as though she was afraid of being overheard.

"Possibly, but he had no reason to destroy his own resources. He wants me to help him get them since it’s not worth it for him to do it with his own hands," Atticus explained, and Daphne nodded. "Honestly sunshine, you might think me ridiculous, but I suspect Jean Nott is behind this."

Daphne froze, the blues of her eyes trembling in fear. Her fingers were shaking. Atticus sat a little straighter at this uncharacteristic display, his lethargy replaced with worry of his own.

"Daphne? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing!" Daphne hastily replied, her voice higher than normal. She cleared her throat and calmed down. "It’s fine, I was just surprised to hear his name after so long... We never caught him either. If he’s here, then everyone is in danger. Especially now that I’m with child..." Daphne’s voice trailed off, a hand on her belly.

Atticus’s eyes darkened at the thought of Jean Nott laying his hands on his pregnant wife. Just the very thought caused an animalistic surge of rage to course through his body. He reached out his hand to cradle her much smaller one.

"Sunshine, I’ll protect you, so don’t be afraid. I can even take on ten Jean Notts to save you and our child."

"I’d rather you didn’t," Daphne replied, with more bemusement than fear. "Ten against one are very poor odds." Yet she still squeezed his hand in gratitude, the fear from Jean Nott’s impromptu visit slowly receding enough that she could breathe more easily.

"For him, certainly," Atticus retorted easily. "The fact that there’s only one of me is the world’s way of giving him a handicap."

"Arrogant," Daphne said, shoving more food in his mouth, an indulgent smile on her face. "Now eat your lunch and go back to bed, you’ll need your rest for your trip later. And thank you for getting the kitchens to prepare a meal for me. I thought you had forgotten about me when you didn’t show up."

"I would never," Atticus said instinctively, even though he most certainly had.

To stop himself from blabbing out nonsense, he hastily opened his mouth and shoved more food in, chewing vigorously, much like the camels he detested. Daphne laughed and laughed, and she didn’t tell him why, even when he whined childishly at her, demanding a reason.

It was their most pleasant lunch in a long while, but sadly all good things had to come to an end. Atticus bid Daphne a reluctant goodbye with a long kiss, before making his way back to their rooms.

On the way, he bumped into Sirona, who was hurrying to consult notes with Queen Lavinia. Suddenly

"Thanks for the save," he muttered from the corner of his mouth. "I owe you one."

Sirona snorted and replied just as quietly, "I can’t believe I still have to wipe your ass at your grand age. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. If Daphne finds out, I can’t save you. "

"Noted," Atticus said with a minuscule nod, and they parted ways, with Daphne none the wiser.

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