Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 48: Escape

Chapter 48: Escape

The chair crashed into the wall right next to Daphne as she jumped out of the way, biting her lip to stifle the scream. She didn’t want them to know she was awake.

She had spent the last ten minutes dodging wayward furnitures, praying they wouldn’t hit her as the mercenaries squabbled with one another about her. For mercenaries that spent so much effort in kidnapping her, they were certainly lax in making sure she was unharmed. She flinched as another chair flew in her direction.

Soon after the first man’s conversation over the sodalite with his mysterious employer had ended, his comrades had returned― two others, twins that were ridden with countless scars. She had been listening into their conversation the entire time, cowering into a ball and praying they wouldn’t remember she was in the same room.

They most certainly conversed as though they didn’t remember she was there, listening to their every word.

"She is a liability," one of the twins, Broc, said. Daphne had caught their names when they had returned to the shed.

He had a large scar that ran from the center of his forehead down to his left eye, making it seem as though his face was split into two. That one eye was fully white, blind, but Daphne had a feeling he was even more dangerous than a man with two functioning eyes.

"Every second she is here is a second nearer to our demise."

"Don’t forget that we live under the rule of a mad king," the other twin, Bram, added. He was no better; there was a large scar that split the right side of his upper lip into two. "And the rumors have it that he is madly in love with his new wife. He would not be happy to hear about this, if he hadn’t already."

Daphne’s heart ached. The rumors were false. Atticus wasn’t madly in love with her. He was just mad. And in love with mocking her.

"It will only be a matter of days before he finds us. Hours, even."

The first man, Clive, ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "And you think I am unaware of that?"

"Is he planning on giving us the payment anytime soon?" Bram asked. He folded his arms across his chest, his expression turning even sterner than before. "If not, I suggest we kill her. We’ve at least got the down payment already. It would be enough for us to leave this wretched town before fleeing to another kingdom."

Daphne’s breath hitched in her throat. Her struggling stilled, afraid to even breathe too loudly.

Broc nodded. "The mad king has been tightening controls over the borders due to the crystal smugglers of the black market. If what the rumors say are true, it would be soon before it becomes impossible for anybody to leave the kingdom once he finds out the queen is missing."

"He has half a day more," Clive said with a grunt. "Until then, she is to be brought in alive and unharmed."

His words caused a huge weight to be lifted off Daphne’s chest, allowing her to breathe properly again. She might have an expiry date but at least her life wasn’t in immediate danger.

Her hands went back to work. She had previously found a chip in the wall― a sharp edge of a wooden pillar that she could grind down the ropes that kept her hands bound. If she could get that off, she had a good chance at running when the other two mercenaries left again.

She didn’t have much time. Quite frankly, Daphne wasn’t willing to bet on it either. For one thing, she didn’t know who the employer was and whether or not he would cough up the payment in time for the mercenaries to keep up their end of the bargain. On the other hand, well... Daphne didn’t have faith that Atticus would find her before they killed her.

There was only one person Daphne could depend on and that was herself. She refused to be the damsel in distress and play as a sitting duck.

Slowly but surely, she felt her binds loosen around her wrist. Then, a crisp snap sounded. It wasn’t loud and hadn’t gathered enough attention, but that slight sound reminded Daphne of the ring of victory bells.

"We will have a look at the current situation around the borders," Bram said. He picked up his satchel on the table, walking to the door with his brother. "Let us know if he provides an update."

"If he provides one." Clive snorted.

The twins quickly left the shed then and the door closed shut behind them.

Daphne took the chance when Clive had been distracted. She quickly shook off the ropes from her wrists before reaching for the ones at her feet. Her fingers worked through them quickly, effortlessly untying the knots in place.

Silently, she thanked the training her maids had put her through back in the Reawethen royal palace. They had always feared she would get herself into some sort of trouble due to her lack of magical aptitude; it seemed like that training was finally put to good use.

However, Daphne had only just stood back up on her feet when her mini-victory was shattered.

"Oi! What do you think you’re doing?"

The harsh voice caused Daphne to whip her head in the direction of the speaker, her face paling greatly when she realized she had been caught before her plan had even begun.

Clive stood there watching her, his face filled with fury. The shadows cast by the flickering candle flame only added a tinge of madness to his expression. Daphne’s lips trembled in fright at the sight, her already-wobbly knees trembling even further as she took a step back.

Yet, there were only so many steps she could take. It didn’t take long before her back pressed against something solid. She had been backed into a corner already.

"Thinking of escaping?" Clive sneered. As he edged in nearer to Daphne, he picked up the sword that had been placed on the table. The blade dragged against the furniture then the walls and the floor, creating a screech that was painful to listen to.

"No... I..." Daphne stammered, looking back and forth. Her eyes searched for something ― anything ― that could help her current situation.

Then, they narrowed in on some small broken shards on the floor by the table. The shards of ceramic were colorful, most likely pieces that made up a vase. Unfortunately, Clive was a huge obstacle that stood between her and the makeshift weapon.

Daphne took a deep breath, steadying her voice. She closed her eyes for a split second before opening them again. This time, her gaze was determined.

"Who is my buyer?" she asked instead.

"That’s for me to know and for you to find out, Your Majesty," the mercenary dragged out the last two words sarcastically.

There was no hint of respect in his tone and from his actions, it was quite clear that while Daphne was the queen of Vramid and a princess of Reaweth, these titles were nothing in the eyes of those beyond the control of the law.

"All you have to do," Clive tapped the tip of the sword against the wooden floors, "is to sit and wait there all pretty for the payment to come in."

With a sharp ring, the blade was poised right by Daphne’s throat. It didn’t touch her skin and most certainly was nowhere near drawing any blood or killing her, but if she breathed even a bit too heavily, it would be an all too different story.

"You better not try anything too funny, little lady," Clive warned. "It would be awfully terrible if I had accidentally nicked you."

There was enough space. Just enough. If she had moved fast enough and without warning, she could and might just be able to dodge the sword and round behind Clive before he could react. Clive was a blocky man, decked with muscles and blessed with a tall height. However, while he would be tough to beat in battle, Daphne bet that he was not as agile in comparison.

Was it worth the risk, then? To attempt an escape and get killed for riling up her captor, or sit and wait for her death to come when no one came for her?

Daphne was an impatient woman at times. This was one of those times.

She waited until Clive had let down his guard for a split second before diving sharply to her left, away from the corner she was stuck in. True enough, Clive wasn’t able to react in time. When he did, his sword was pushed forward via his instinct and had been wedged deep into the wall.

Daphne, who had rolled out of harm’s way, could only watch with her lips slightly parted. If she had been any slower, her neck would’ve been skewered right into the wall already!

"You bitch!" the man roared with fury.