Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 533: The Other Contestants

Chapter 533: The Other Contestants

Atticus nodded. "It’s not as though we have anything better to do," he said with a shrug, and they got a servant to lead them to the west wing.

As they walked closer, Daphne heard the sound of panicked yelling ahead. The thunderous footsteps of the guards echoed through the hallways.

"What’s the commotion?"

"Protect Princess Cordelia!" The guards bellowed. "There’s an assassin in the castle!"

Daphne nearly stumbled in surprise. An assassin? In broad daylight?

"Sounds like trouble," Atticus said, his voice delighted beyond belief. He eagerly lengthened his strides, and Daphne did her best to keep up. Her husband must have been hoping for some excitement to happen.

In the past, Atticus would have demanded Daphne to stay behind for her own safety. However, now that Daphne was one of the only two people in the world blessed with magic, he was utterly confident in letting her join in the festivities.

Hopefully, there would be enough culprits for them to destroy together. It would be utterly disappointing if there was only one small fry for them to share.

They arrived at the heart of the commotion; there was a small blockage in front of one of the corridors leading to a particular room. Through the crowd of men, Daphne could faintly make out the faint line of guards, who were most likely doing their best to keep the nosy participants out, but nothing could stop them from gossiping about it.

"I bet ya anything it’s that no good Saxiu," one man complained. "He was always a no-good scum!"

"I put my money on Omi being the culprit," another man said. "He never liked Yael, remember?"

"Guys, you’re all wrong. I’m certain this is done by Waylen! You saw how good he was at gutting fish! Bet you anything, those skills were used in gutting poor Yael!"

Daphne’s ears perked up. Apparently, a man called Yael had been killed, and the culprit was still a mystery. Atticus cleared his throat, and his looming stature quickly attracted the attention of the other men, who turned around and glared at him, hostility in their eyes?

"Huh, who are you?"

"Another candidate? So late?"

"Piss off! Not another stupid prince!"

Before Atticus could promptly correct their misconceptions by sending them through the nearest wall, Daphne emerged from behind him and smiled.

"Wait, there’s a woman with him!"

The hostility vanished almost immediately, replaced by frantic, adoring confusion. There was a mild panic as they registered Daphne’s presence. Daphne, in her elaborate silk gown and her hair tied up in an elegant bun, was a vision to behold.

Atticus didn’t blame the men for uselessly gaping at his wife as they quickly tried to straighten themselves out, fixing their clothes and their postures as though it would have made a difference to their presentability.

It wasn’t her fault that she was so utterly stunning that mere mortals like them could do nothing in the face of her grace and beauty.

However, that didn’t stop him from feeling the familiar curl of jealousy coil itself along his throat. This time, he cleared his throat loudly and wrapped an arm around Daphne’s waist, shooting death glares at everyone else whose eyes dared to linger on Daphne for more than a split second.

"This is my wife," Atticus declared loudly. "Now will someone tell me what is going on?"

"You have such a beautiful wife, but you still want to take part in this contest?" Someone yelled angrily. Atticus whirled around, but he couldn’t pinpoint the exact source of the voice. "You have some nerve, mister!"

A chorus of angry yells followed his statement. Daphne tried not to snicker at this turn of events.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"Boo!"

A muscle twitched in Atticus’s jaw as he was slandered by this bunch of idiots. Did Princess Cordelia not vet the participants of her contest? How could she let these imbeciles into her palace? For heaven’s sake, Atticus was one of the most renowned individuals in the world. How did they not recognize him?

Maybe he ought to demonstrate his abilities to jolt their memory. But before he could send them flying to the ceiling, Daphne tugged on his arm and shook her head minutely.

Fine. They could live for another day.

"I’m a friend of Princess Cordelia," Daphne said sweetly, and more than one man swooned at the sound of her dulcet voice ringing in their ears.

Atticus stood tall, nearly plastering himself to her side in case any of these men harbored delusional ideas of making Daphne’s theirs. He was just short of hissing at them like an angry cat, protective of its food.

Daphne, however, had long mastered the art of turning a blind eye to his bouts of blatant possessiveness. "Can you let me know where to find her?" she asked.

The men hastily bowed, nearly stomping on each other as they tried to fulfill her request. The resulting commotion caused more than a few stubbed toes and hastily aborted curses, with Atticus’s presence as a possible competitor tossed to the back of the men’s minds.

Of course, they were as useful as a flock of headless chickens. Atticus rolled his eyes. He was just about to demand Jonah to solve this issue from wherever he was when he heard Cordelia’s voice echo through from the other end of the corridor.

"What in the sea’s biscuit is going on here?" Cordelia demanded angrily. "Stop crowding the hallway!"

"Princess Cordelia!" The men chorused in unison, their backs bowing like a sea of dominos, revealing the regal figures of Daphne and Atticus standing at the back. Jonah, who was guarding Cordelia, raised a surprised eyebrow.

"King Atticus, Daphne, what are the both of you doing here?" Cordelia asked.

Hastily stifled gasps and meek cries of dismay filled the hallway as the men realized who they had been insulting. Atticus was amused to hear the sound of prayers muttered frantically under their breaths, as though that would save them from his wrath.

Luckily for them, he had bigger fish to fry. His wife approached Princess Cordelia worriedly.

"We heard there was an assassin!" Daphne said, "Cordelia, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"Your security must be terrible, if someone could sneak in without magic," Atticus couldn’t help but add.

"I’m fine," Cordelia said, but Daphne noted that she sounded more frazzled than usual. She didn’t even respond to Atticus’s quip, instead she addressed her men. "Guards, send everyone to their rooms. No one is to leave their rooms until we have concluded our investigations. Failure to comply will lead to immediate disqualification. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Princess!" the men said, and they fled the hallway as though the hounds were on their heels.

"Both of you, come with me," Cordelia ordered and she led them into the room where the supposed murder was.

The first thing that greeted Daphne’s eyes was a pool of blood.

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