Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 465: Old Scores Laid Bare II

Chapter 465: Old Scores Laid Bare II

His eyes, pools of molten gold, glowed with an intensity that transcended the physical. Yet, within that radiant allure, there simmered a tempestuous undercurrent― a silent storm of anger. The usual warmth in those golden orbs was eclipsed by shadows, casting an unsettling veil over their luminescence.

As he fixed his gaze on Daphne, it felt as though the air itself quivered in response to the unspoken fury contained within. The usual spark of vitality in his eyes now resembled smoldering embers, threatening to burst into flames at any moment.

Daphne had seen Atticus angry before― there were more times than she could count. However, each time, there was a bit of amusement that was mixed with his grievances. This time, however, it was pure frustration that could only be described as murderous.

"I can close one eye to the damned bird when everything is going well, Daphne," Atticus slowly said. "However, the undeniable truth is that he is the direct cause of the death of our child― your child. You carried the baby in you for months; you were willing to pin the blame on me, and yet you protect this murderer for taking away a would-be member of our family?!"

Instantly, a prick shot through Daphne’s chest. She moved back in her bed just as Atticus stood to his feet, taking a step closer to the bed until he was cornering her between him and the frame. Discontent blazed in his eyes and there was no question of his wrath.

"I am your husband before he was your pet, friend, or make-believe child!" Atticus yelled, his voice nearly cracking at the end.

For a second, pain and betrayal flickered through his irises. It disappeared right after Daphne blinked― she wasn’t given a chance to confirm what she saw.

"Have you treated me as a proper husband?" Atticus asked, his voice weak. His shoulders slumped, and in an instant, all air left him, leaving him deflated. "What of our vows?"

"Why did you steal me away?" Daphne asked in return, tears brimming in her eyes. She didn’t understand why she was crying. Perhaps her body already knew to mourn for a broken marriage before her mind did. "I wasn’t supposed to be your bride. Yet, you stole me from my true fiancé. Why?"

"Because," Atticus said, "I needed you."

Daphne’s heart skipped a beat. She knew, rationally, he didn’t mean that in a romantic way. How could Atticus, a cold-hearted tyrant who could have anyone in the world as he so wished, care for a powerless princess he had never met before? There had to be another reason why he needed her, other than for love.

"I was not pushing the blame on the griffin," Atticus slowly said. However, his voice was monotonous― there was no anger, no pain, and definitely no joy nor amusement. "However, you’re right. I did want his wing even before he fucked up. Only back then, I was considering perhaps a more humane way of extraction, similar to the kelpie’s eye."

From behind his back, Atticus pulled out a small dagger. It was unsheathed and the blade glinted as it caught the light, menacingly dazzling as Atticus played with it.

"You wanted to know, didn’t you? What did I need with the kelpie’s eye? That was what your little rag-tag team wanted to find out, wasn’t it?" Atticus leaned in. He whispered, "Well then, I’ll tell you."

Daphne pressed back against the frame as far as she could go. The wood was digging into her back but she didn’t care. She ignored the burn of her muscles and the soreness of her body.

"Don’t you think people like Jean Nott should be weeded out before they grow too... brave?"

"Brave?" Daphne echoed, her voice barely even above a murmur.

"Experimenting, playing around with magic, finding new ways to expand its horizons," Atticus listed out. "That was what Jean Nott was trying to do. He had a valiant but stupid dream."

"What..." Daphne paused, thinking back hard to what had happened in the past. She had heard this before. Her face snapped up to look at Atticus just as she recalled.

Francessa Seibert and her husband, Lucien Seibert. Jean Nott had promised them powers beyond their wildest dreams. That was what led them down that dark road and eventually to their demise.

"You’re finally connecting the dots," Atticus said. "Took you long enough."

"But to share the gift of magic is wonderful!" Daphne argued. "Many people’s lives could be made better with this advancement. That’s what King Rowan Verimandi wanted when he shared magic with the rest of the world."

Atticus immediately barked out in laughter, his voice belting loudly across the room.

"Or worse!" he exclaimed. "Think about it, sunshine. One man holds the ability to grant the world magic. However, why would he give it to everyone and anyone? Not everyone is as righteous as King Rowan. Especially not Jean Nott. Just look at what he made the Seiberts do for him in exchange."

"But―"

"Besides, did you think the process would be that simple?" Atticus asked with another chuckle. There was no mirth in his voice, just cruel sadistic mockery. "I am sure that he mentioned this to you before― we’re two sides of the same coin. You know what that means?"

Daphne kept silent. That was fine. Atticus didn’t need her to answer anyway.

"You have Zephyr and Nereus under your care. What about the other griffins and kelpies that live in the wild? Do you care for their lives and deaths? Do you still think it’s a good thing that magic can be shared with anyone― and not everyone, mind you!" Atticus said, "Just whoever Jean Nott wants. Anyone he deems worthy can be gifted with magic, all at the cost of a wild kelpie’s eye and an untamed griffin’s wing."

With a gasp, Daphne’s hands flew to her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away as her heart thundered in her ribcage.

"Tell me, my love," Atticus said. "Do you still think sharing the gift of magic is a wonderful thing?"

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