Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 468: True Feelings

Chapter 468: True Feelings

"And you didn’t forget too," Daphne finished quietly. There was no way to prove Atticus was telling the truth, but there was also no way to prove he was lying. It was Atticus’s word, a series of damning similarities, and a wrong that lasted generations.

"How could I?" Atticus laughed, but there was no mirth. "Vramid was an utter shithole before I took over. My grandmother was a princess who should have married nobility and lived the rest of her life in luxury, but instead, she hid in the slums of Vramid and got married to a cobbler, who then died when sickness spread. Her son, who should have been king, made his living bowing his head to corrupt officials."

"And you decide to take revenge on the whole world just because of one mistake?" Daphne burst out, her hands clenched into fists at her side.

"It’s not revenge, really," Atticus said with a shrug. "I am just taking back whatever originally belonged to my family. Besides, if I truly wanted to take revenge," a murderous glint shot through his eyes, "I could’ve just waged war against your family. There wasn’t a need to steal a bride."

"War..." Daphne echoed, her head thrumming.

She felt as though her brain was about to explode. Every blood vessel in her body was throbbing, her blood roaring in her ears. She could hear her own heartbeat in the silence of the room, thudding so loudly that she was sure Atticus couldn’t possibly miss it as well.

Wasn’t this it? Wasn’t Atticus trying to declare war against the magical world?

"Why didn’t you, then?" Daphne asked through tears, her voice breathy. "Kill me. Kill the rest of my family. You will have your kingdom back."

Atticus smiled, but this time, there was no anger nor sadistic rage. All that was visible in the curve of his lips was sadness. He shook his head.

"That is the crime of your ancestors― not yours, not your family’s. Even though your brother is a psychopath and your father is an unfit ruler and even more so an unfit father, your family doesn’t deserve to be executed for crimes you did not commit. You, especially..."

Atticus trailed off. He reached forward, ignoring the way Daphne flinched away from his touch. He took hold of a small chunk of hair that had fallen over her face, and gently, he helped comb it back behind her ear.

"You’re my wife," Atticus murmured, his voice soft. "I plan to keep to the vows I made during our marriage."

"I am just a tool, a means to an end," Daphne spat out. "How could you lie so easily?"

With a sharp echo, Atticus brandished the small dagger once more. Magic wrapped around Daphne’s hand, forcing her to hold it out to him. The shimmer of clear, iridescent magic brought the dagger down to her finger, causing her heart to skip a beat in fright.

She closed her eyes, expecting the worst, only to feel a small pin prick on her finger. Instinctively, she jolted a little from the sensation, but quickly opened her eyes when she realized there was nothing more.

Atticus dripped her crimson blood, freshly extracted from her index finger, into a small tube he had prepared. Once he had enough — just a couple of drops — he quickly corked the test tube and allowed Daphne free range over her movements once more. She quickly withdrew her hand, holding it to her chest as she stared at the wound.

"Relax, I didn’t poison you," Atticus said. He kept the collected blood and then the dagger, his magic dissipating in the air. "You wanted to know what I kidnapped you for, yes? This is why. I needed blood from the ruling family of Reaweth for the ritual to work. Since your family overthrew mine, that means your blood is needed."

With another wave of his hand, a fresh bandage was brought over, followed by a salve. It was just a small wound, something that would’ve healed by itself even without medication. However, Atticus tended to Daphne’s finger as though it was a matter of life and death. While it should be a heartwarming sight, Daphne could not muster any good feelings in her heart for him.

She was conflicted, needless to say.

Did her husband even love her? Why didn’t he share this with her earlier? They had been in love for a decent amount of time― he didn’t need to keep such things from her.

However, she quickly answered her own questions just by looking at Atticus as he wrapped her finger in a layer of gauze.

Even if he told her, would she accept his plans and help him? He would still require the same ingredients for the ritual to work― that included a kelpie’s eye and a griffin’s wing. Daphne would’ve never been able to close an eye to this and let him harvest organs from Nereus and Zephyr.

"I do love you, Daphne," Atticus mumbled just as he secured the bandage, staring at her hand rather than meeting her eyes. His voice quivered with what Daphne thought was fear. "While I did not approach you for the most valiant of reasons, I have fallen in love with you after our time together."

"Then stop this madness," Daphne pleaded. "You will be setting the world back by at least a century’s worth of advancements with this. Nereus’s eye can still be returned. Zephyr’s wing―"

"It’s a necessary evil, I’m afraid," Atticus said, his voice firm. "I am correcting what my great-grandfather did wrong. He should’ve never shared his gift with the world. Rather than a gift, it is more of a curse." His eyes trailed down to Daphne’s belly before he looked away. "If it weren’t for Jean Nott..."

He didn’t finish his sentence but Daphne knew fully well what he meant. If it weren’t for Jean Nott and his magic, Daphne’s child would still be alive. She would’ve never miscarried. They could’ve had a happy family.

"I love you, Daphne. And that is why I need you to stay here, safe." With that said, he stood up and pulled away. His quick strides brought him to the door nearly instantly and Daphne could reach out to him with wide eyes.

"Atticus―"

"Don’t fret," he said, "I promise I’ll treat Silas and turn him and Alistair back into proper humans before conducting the ritual. Your family — other than Alistair, who will have to pay for his war crimes against Reaweth — will be unharmed so long as they stay out of my way."

"Wait―"

"I love you," Atticus said, smiling gently, sorrowfully, "even if you don’t love me back."

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