Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 55: Tender Moments

Chapter 55: Tender Moments

"Nothing but... bone..." Daphne repeated after Sirona, her head feeling lighter and lighter with each word. There was an incessant ringing in her ears that couldn’t seem to go away, sending her heart rate spiking.

She took a shaky breath, then two, and when the third one came and went, Daphne realized that she was having trouble breathing. No matter how many gulps of air she tried to take in, none of it seemed to ease the thirst for oxygen that had been building up in her lungs. Her shoulders rose and fell in quick succession, her breath so loud that each pant was audible.

"Daphne, look at me." Atticus quickly sat on the bed, holding Daphne by the shoulders so that her body was slightly turned to face him. "Look at me."

Struggling, Daphne managed to raise her line of sight to meet Atticus’s. His amber irises looked like bright flames, threatening to swallow her whole. Yet, even though the heat was frightful and hazardous, there was also so much life in them.

"Breathe," he said.

She followed.

"That’s it. Slowly. And out."

Again, she did as told.

After a few more times, she felt herself land back into reality. The unpleasant fuzzy feeling in her head had subsided, the ringing turning dull and soft before eventually going away entirely.

The entire time, Sirona watched silently from her little corner, not wishing to disturb the little bubble that the couple had created for themselves. When she was finally done with the tonic, she portioned it out for Daphne before taking it over to her.

"You’ve lost quite a lot of blood when the building went down," Sirona explained. "This will help you get some strength back. Your wounds should heal much faster as well."

"Careful," she said while handing the bowl over to her. "It’s hot."

Before Daphne could reach out for the bowl, Atticus intercepted it, basically snatching it from Sirona.

"Let me," Atticus said. Daphne watched with widened eyes as the bloodthirsty king she knew gently blew onto the spoonful of tonic in an attempt to cool it down before feeding it to her.

"I can feed myself. I’m not a baby, Atticus," Daphne chided, trying to take the spoon from him.

But Atticus shook his head and looked pleadingly at her, causing her heart to waver as she focused on his sad puppy eyes. "You have suffered a terrible ordeal. Can’t you let your husband dote on you? For my sake, if not yours?"

Daphne’s face flushed. It was so embarrassing! She quickly glanced at Sirona, who was pointedly grinding the leaves loudly, the very picture of concentration.

"Fine," Daphne said, trying to sound reluctant, yet she still opened her mouth and sipped at each spoonful Atticus fed her. Her tone was also much lighter than before when she had been angry at him.

Atticus had also noticed it as well. That little detail was enough to stretch his lips into a smile as he continued his motions, dutifully playing the role of a good husband.

"Besides, you are my baby," he smoothly added, earning himself a roll of Daphne’s eyes. However, that slight tilt of her lips couldn’t be missed.

"Sleazy," she muttered. But her red cheeks told a different story, and she eagerly drank each spoonful of tonic from Atticus’s own hand, all while staring at him. In no time at all, the bowl was empty.

Sirona cleared her throat. Daphne was startled― she had forgotten they weren’t alone!

"If you’re done flirting, I’ll return to my own quarters," she said with a look of barely concealed disgust on her face. "I badly need a bath after camping here for days."

The doctor yawned and stretched her muscles, and Daphne could hear the popping of her joints as she released days’ worth of tension. Daphne’s jaw dropped, looking back and forth between Sirona and Atticus in disbelief.

"You had her stay here the entire time?" she asked.

"Of course! What if something were to happen to you?" Atticus placed the bowl down, his eyebrows furrowed. "What if you needed urgent medical attention?"

"And now that Her Highness is visibly fine, I will be off getting my much-needed beauty sleep." Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Sirona all but dashed for the door as if afraid that if she was one moment too slow, Atticus would change his mind and make her stay another three days. "Adieu."

Once they were left alone, there was an awkward silence that settled between Atticus and Daphne. Neither of them dared to speak first, suddenly realizing how closely they were seated and how intimate their positions were.

Daphne was the first to pull back. Yet, before she could, Atticus ― who had his hands clasping hers ― tightened his grip, not wanting to let her go.

"What’s wrong?" she asked softly.

She didn’t miss how Atticus’s hands seemed to clasp her own perfectly, or how the warmth of his palms felt like cozying by the fireplace during a rainy day. They had just been fighting right before everything went down in flames. Now, it was as though none of that had ever happened and everything was perfect between them.

As though calling each other ’husband’ and ’wife’ was a perfectly perfect thing to do.

"I don’t know why but I was so scared," Atticus confessed. His gaze was poised down at the sheets, afraid to meet her eyes. "I thought I wouldn’t be able to find you in time. That when I finally did, I would be too late and something would’ve happened to you. Or worse... I wouldn’t be able to find you at all."

"But you did," Daphne firmly replied. "You found me. And you brought me home."

As soon as the word slipped from her lips, Daphne’s heart skipped a beat.

Home.

Was this cold, foreign castle her home now? She had been in Vramid for only weeks and days, not even barely enough to carve her shadows into the stone walls of this frigid palace. Yet, there was just something about the people here and the bonds that she had made that made this place so much more vibrant than the country she grew up in.

What was Reaweth but a shadow of her past? What was Vramid other than a beacon of her future?

"Is this place really?" Atticus questioned, thinking of the same thing as Daphne. "Home? Do you really consider it as such?"

"I’ve come to enjoy this place," Daphne admitted, "as well as the company of the people that live here."

"Oh." Atticus seemed to glow from within. "I’m truly glad to hear that. I know that we have gotten on the wrong foot," a vast understatement if Daphne ever heard one, "but I’m glad that this place is growing on you. Hopefully not like a fungus."

Daphne snorted at the imagery. "Should a king be calling his kingdom something so undignified?"

"I’m not blind to the flaws of my kingdom." Atticus shrugged ruefully, a finger gently rubbing Daphne’s knuckles. "For every criminal Jonah and I catch, at least two or three escape. And now you have met them. Words are superfluous in the face of the hardship you faced, but I must still apologize," Atticus hung his head low, keeping his eyes on her hands.

"Atticus, normally people look at the person they are apologizing to," Daphne said dryly, cupping his face in her hands. Her skin tingled at the contact, but she held firm, tilting his head so she could meet his eyes again. "And I forgive you. This was an unexpected occurrence."

"That’s not a good enough reason to forgive me. You could have died! Or worse!" Atticus exclaimed.

"Atticus, stop with this useless guilt and self-pity. I could technically die from a blow to the head, or from bad food. One must make peace with that," Daphne said, blinking calmly.

"I refuse!" Atticus tried to shake his head, but Daphne tightened her hold on his face.

"Are you claiming you know my feelings better than I do?"

Atticus spluttered.

"Atticus, I was powerless for most of my life. I had to watch my siblings go on to achieve great things while I stayed behind, hidden for my own protection. Without you, I wouldn’t have unlocked this power. You gave me the earrings that saved my life. For that alone, I cannot thank you enough."

"Even if unlocking your power nearly killed you?" Atticus asked, but there was understanding in his eyes.

"Precisely. I’ll still need to learn how to control my abilities. What better way than learning from you?"

"You really know how to flatter a man," Atticus said, the stress from earlier leaving his face. "But be warned, sunshine, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me for mercy."

These words, paired with Atticus’s languid drawl and the intense look in his eyes, sent heat crawling up Daphne’s face. She immediately tugged her hands away from his face. Why did he have to make it sound so... lewd?

"You’re a menace," Daphne grumbled as she avoided his eyes. She’ll have to tell Eugene about Atticus behaving like a brat, he would surely commiserate with her. He was a perfect gentleman, always kind and willing to help―

Daphne nearly leaped out from the bed. How could she have forgotten about Eugene’s plight?

"Atticus!"

"What, sunshine?"

"Did you save Eugene too?"

"Eugene?" Atticus’s face darkened at the name. Oh, it was Eugene now― wasn’t it Lord Attonson just a few days ago?

"You know, Lord Attonson! I saw him getting beaten up by my kidnappers. Did you get Sirona to take a look at him?" Daphne asked anxiously.

"..."

"Atticus?"

"..."

"Atticus, answer me!"

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