Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 58: Damage Done

Chapter 58: Damage Done

"As much as I appreciate it, Your Highness, that’s treason," Eugene said pointedly.

"I’m the queen!" Daphne said with more confidence than she actually felt.

Technically, as Atticus had oh so kindly reminded her, she was a prisoner with a beautiful crown on her head. It was ironic that a caged bird like her was attempting to free Eugene from the dungeons, but if she didn’t do it, who else would? Certainly not Atticus, that was for sure.

Eugene got hurt for her sake. Daphne remembered him wanting to escort her back to the castle when he found out his wallet was missing, but she was stubborn and insisted on catching the pickpocket.

And look at them now. One lying in a pool of his own blood in the dungeon, the other with weakened muscles, broken bones, and a shattered heart.

"I’ll get help. Please, just hang in there," Daphne said. She eyed the bars contemplatively. If no one was willing to help her, could she use her powers to melt the metal and pull Eugene out?

Then she recalled that she burnt two men to the bone and quickly put that dangerous idea out of her head. She didn’t want to accidentally torch the entire castle and Eugene just to get him out. While she was feeling more than delighted to set fire to Atticus for what he had just said to her and how he had treated Eugene, there were innocent people whom she would rather not get caught in the crossfire.

Daphne needed lessons in controlling her powers, but now, she would rather blow herself up than get them from Atticus.

Bet that would make his day. He wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore.

"Your Majesty, don’t look so down." Eugene tried to give a cheerful salute. "I have nothing better to do anyway. Might as well get some beauty sleep."

Daphne shook herself out of her self-pity. Eugene needed her help and she had to give it.

"I’ll come for you soon." She promised before stumbling away back into the light.

Eugene could only watch her retreating back with a wry smile. There was but one thought in his mind as he watched her retreating figure.

’To have someone put in so much effort for me... is this how it feels like to be loved?"

***

"Your Majesty, I just saw you half an hour ago. Why are you here and not being grossly domestic with your wife?" Sirona asked, blinking blearily as though she could banish Atticus from her sight. "Did something happen to Daphne?"

She had finally taken a bath and was merrily entering dreamland. At least, that was before Atticus entered her quarters without as much as a ’how do you do’.

Every maiden in Vramid probably dreamt about seeing Atticus’s face the moment they woke up, but when Sirona opened her eyes and saw Atticus’s constipated expression looming over her, she could only feel dismay. She began to get up, not forgetting to curse him a thousand times over as she did so.

"No. Daphne is fine," Atticus said. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he couldn’t find the words.

Sirona slumped back down on her bed and pulled up her covers.

"You should know how contraception works. Get the pills from my shelves. Now shoo. I barely even slept a wink yet."

Yet Atticus didn’t move an inch. Sirona opened an eye and saw that Atticus had an expression that could curdle milk.

"Trouble in paradise already?" Sirona prompted when it seemed like Atticus was just content on glowering at empty air.

"There’s no trouble," Atticus said with gritted teeth.

"Then I suppose you’re hanging out in my private quarters for fun?" Sirona rolled her eyes. "That’ll go over well with your wife."

A muscle jumped in Atticus’s jaw. Sirona waited for him to speak, her eyes nearly falling shut by the time Atticus finally let out a single, exhausted, exhale.

"She hates me now."

She jumped a little, startled when he had suddenly spoken right as she was about to fall asleep. It took her a second to register his words before the sentence made sense.

"Excuse me? How?" Sirona was now wide awake, staring at Atticus disbelievingly. "What did you do, dump the tonic all over her head?"

"I just... Well..."

"Your Majesty, I left you for barely an hour." Sirona’s eyelid twitched in irritation. "And somehow, within that hour or less, you’ve managed to piss off the very same woman that you were practically sprawled over?"

"I didn’t say anything!" Atticus’s attempt at defending himself was weak. There was nothing he could use as an excuse, merely pacing back and forth in what Sirona thought was an attempt to wear down the wood of her bedroom floor.

"Well, you must’ve said something that made her chase you out like that! It’s not like I don’t know about your talent in pissing off women."

"She didn’t chase me out," he confessed. "She was the one that left her room."

"She what?!"

This time, Sirona actually jumped out of bed. She scurried for her clothes, quickly putting on a coat over her nightgown so that she looked a little more decent. All the while, Atticus had his back facing her, gentlemanly as ever.

"And you call yourself a husband!" Sirona scolded. "Do not ever tell anyone that you were once under my tutelage. You know damn well that she is not supposed to be up, out, and about like that when she had just woken up from a coma!"

Atticus spluttered, now turning back to face her. "Well, she insisted!"

"And I’m sure you had nothing to do with her sudden insistence to be out and about?"

Atticus was pointedly silent.

"Thought so. Word of advice Atticus, next time you make your wife angry, perhaps try apologizing instead of looking for me. I can treat all sorts of ailments, but I have no cure for you constantly putting your foot in your mouth." Sirona lectured, grabbing her bag of herbs.

"God knows I’ve tried to find one. Come on, let’s go look for your wife. Make sure to look appropriately repentant. Grovel if you must."

"I’m your king," Atticus grumbled, but he followed after her like a schoolboy scolded for breaking the rules. After Daphne had determinedly stumbled out of the room, he was filled with incredible regret when he recalled the words he said in a pique of anger.

Her parting words were an endless loop in his mind, along with her eyes, looking at him with hurt disappointment.

’It would have suited your plans if Lord Attonson died defending me and I died because no one knew where I was gone.’

’I have forgotten my place.’

’I shall not waste your time any further.’

He was outraged at Daphne for caring about Eugene Attonson, and even more upset at Eugene Attonson’s existence. In his anger, he lashed out at Daphne.

And now, Daphne would probably never care for him again. In his attempt to hurt Eugene Attonson, he lost the one thing that he had come to care for more than his thirst for―

Never mind. There was no use in pondering over such mindless things any further. Words that had been spoken can never be taken back; the damage was already done. Now, he could only pray that there was a way to mend the rift caused by his senseless anger.

First things first, they had to find Daphne. Surely she would understand!

***

Meanwhile, Daphne was stumbling through the castle halls, in search of one person that she could count on for help.

"Jonah!" Daphne called out, nearly breathless. Finally, she stumbled upon him.

She hadn’t even been walking that long but each step she took felt like a thousand needles were stabbed through the sole of her feet. Perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea to hop out of bed so eagerly right after she had just woken up from a two-day coma, but she would rather that than stay in the same room as that royal pain in the behind.

"Jonah, wait!"

"Your Highness?" The man’s eyes widened when he realized who had been the one calling out for him this entire time. He thought he had hallucinated the queen’s voice but now that he was face to face with her, red face and all, Jonah all but screeched in horror. "Your Highness, you shouldn’t be out of bed like that!"

"I’m..." Daphne huffed, "I’m perfectly fine."

"You are obviously not!" Jonah exclaimed. "This way, Your Highness."

Daphne took hold of Jonah’s outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her to the nearby benches. She had caught sight of him right at an outside corridor that neared the courtyard. The benches were outdoors, overlooking a beautiful fountain and rows and rows of delicate flowers. Even the air was lightly perfumed, the scene picturesque.

"Please be careful," Jonah said, carefully helping her sit.

When she finally sat down, Daphne couldn’t help but lean against the backrest, sighing in contentment. Finally, sweet reprieve! Her legs had been aching so badly that she felt as though they were about to fall off.

"How are you feeling?"

"Not too horrid," Daphne answered.

She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to relieve the ache that had started to build. Her hand paused when she suddenly remembered what Atticus and Sirona had informed her when she had just woken up.

"Did you already..."

"Hear about what happened?" Jonah finished the sentence for her. His smile was sympathetic. "Yeah... My men and I were there in search of you that night. We saw what happened."

"Then you know about what happened with Eugene, then?"

"Lord Attonson?" Jonah frowned. "What about him?"

"Jonah, please." Daphne reached forward, grabbing Jonah’s hands in hers. Surprised, Jonah jolted a little where he sat beside her. "You have to help him!"

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