Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 59: Unsavory Rumors

Chapter 59: Unsavory Rumors

"Your Highness, what are you saying?" Jonah asked in shock.

He glanced at their clasped hands and then hurriedly peered around just to make sure Atticus wasn’t looming around the corner. He might be Atticus’s best friend, but that didn’t mean that Atticus wasn’t going to end him when he caught Jonah touching his wife.

Never mind that it was Daphne who made the first move! The man wouldn’t care for such details. He tried to pull his hands away, but Daphne held firm, shooting him a pleading look.

"You need to release Eugene from the dungeons!" Daphne said fervently. "He can’t stay there, he’ll fall sick. He got injured when he tried to save me. Please Jonah, please. You can’t let him rot in there!"

"Your Highness..." Jonah sighed weakly. "That’s not possible. If the king has not given the order to release him, I can’t go against his orders. That’s treason and Atticus might have me hanged."

He might not, but Jonah wasn’t going to risk it. When it came to Eugene Attonson, Atticus was a bull on a warpath, and Eugene was the red flag waving in the ring.

Daphne’s face fell.

"But..." She knew Jonah had a point, but then she had another idea. "How about you let me into his cell then?"

"What?!" At this, Jonah really choked on his spit. He couldn’t believe his ears. "Your Highness, you must be joking! Do you know how terrible the place is? You’re injured― you shouldn’t even be anywhere there!"

"I would never joke about this. And you said it, it’s a terrible place. How could you bear to leave him there when he’s injured?" Daphne asked, the light returning to her eyes as she realized she could use this loophole to help Eugene.

If he wasn’t allowed out to receive medical attention, she would bring medical attention to him!

"Please, Jonah? You know deep down that Atticus is being unreasonable. He blamed Eugene for bringing me out of the castle, but the reason I went with him was because Atticus lied to me! He pretended to be poisoned, remember?"

Jonah was conflicted. On one hand, Daphne had a point. If he wasn’t sworn to Atticus, he could flat-out agree with her. Atticus was the one who immaturely tossed the first pebble down the mountain, and it snowballed into a landslide with consequences far beyond his imagination.

But Atticus was his best friend and his liege.

"...I understand your point, Your Highness. But I can’t. I’m sorry," Jonah said regrettably, pulling himself away from Daphne’s hands. "You’re asking too much of me."

"I see," Daphne said, resignation coloring her tone. "So you’re this type of man. A coward."

"I beg your pardon? What did you just call me?"

"I said, you’re a coward," Daphne repeated plainly, fire in her eyes.

Jonah flinched, hurt by her words. Daphne’s limbs were weakened by her earlier exertions, but sheer fury gave her the energy to stand up again, and she did, glaring down at Jonah who could only stare silently up at her.

"You know deep down Atticus was in the wrong, but because he’s your king and your best friend, you don’t dare to call him out on his behavior. You let him continue and leave an innocent man to suffer in the dungeons, simply because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"I’m thoroughly disappointed in you." Daphne declared.

"Your Highness!" Jonah exclaimed, his green eyes wide with shock. He had never been on the other end of Daphne’s sharp tongue because Daphne never had cause to scold him. He had always been looking out for her best interests, even when Atticus hadn’t.

Which was why his refusal to help hurt almost as much as Atticus’s.

"Forget I even spoke to you today. I’ll do this myself." As Daphne turned around and prepared to leave, a hand suddenly grabbed her own, causing her to stop.

It was Jonah, looking remarkably contrite.

"Let me go this instant. Or are you going to drag me back to Atticus?" Daphne demanded, frost coating her words, warning Jonah to tread carefully.

Jonah took a deep breath before meeting her eyes evenly, steel in his voice.

"You’re right, it was cowardly of me. I cannot let Eugene out, but... you’re right. I can let you in," Jonah decided.

Daphne breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed Jonah by the hands, shaking them fervently in gratitude. "Thank you, Jonah! You’re truly the best man here. You won’t regret this."

"Too late, I already do." Jonah sighed, closing his eyes. "But if I didn’t, I have the feeling that you would go to the dungeons alone and injure yourself trying to break him out."

"You know me too well." Daphne beamed. "Now let’s go and save him!"

"Wait, right now?" Jonah spluttered.

"No time like the present." Daphne insisted, and she tried to pull him up. But in her weakened state, getting up so suddenly brought a rush of dizziness to Daphne’s head. Her vision blanked for just a fraction of a second, her knees going weak as she lost her balance and started to fall.

It was Jonah that ended up supporting her, his arm wrapped around her waist before she stumbled too far. With their hands already linked in the first place, it didn’t take him too much effort to pull her upright.

"Woah, careful!" Jonah’s fingers curled around Daphne’s waist, holding her in place.

There wasn’t enough time for Jonah to watch for propriety; in his haste to make sure she wouldn’t fall, he had used a little too much strength and brought Daphne straight into his arms. Her chest pressed against his, arms tangled with each other’s in an attempt to stay on their feet, and when Daphne had regained her senses from that temporary blackout, she realized that she was way too close to Jonah.

"Thanks," she said with relief. However, even that was short-lived.

"What do you think you are doing?!"

The harsh voice caused Daphne and Jonah to peel away, with the latter nearly all-too-guiltily shoving Daphne out of his arms as if she were a hot potato. Daphne stumbled a little but otherwise regained her balance, her head turning quickly to look at where Jonah was now staring, jaw-slacked and wide-eyed.

"My liege," Jonah squeaked out, his voice an octave higher than usual. He cleared his throat, quickly regaining his composure. "What brings you here?"

Atticus stood just a couple of feet away, his face as black as a stack of coals. He had his fists clenched tightly, his gaze murderous as he glared hard at both Jonah and Daphne.

That wasn’t a pretty sight for him to see at all, and judging by his reaction, Jonah was willing to bet that all Atticus saw was them caught in an embrace, not that Daphne had nearly fallen and Jonah had just caught her in time.

Sirona stood right behind Atticus, her lips poised in a distasteful frown. Yet, the sympathetic look in her eyes told Jonah enough― unlike Atticus, she had indeed seen, or guessed, what had actually transpired. Yet, just like how Jonah didn’t wish to step up and reprimand Atticus for imprisoning the largely-innocent Eugene Attonson, Sirona wasn’t willing to step in and risk her own neck now that Atticus was on a warpath.

Jonah couldn’t even blame her. Karma was a bitch.

"Funny you’re asking that, seeing that you’re in my castle. Why should I not be here?" Atticus snarled in reply.

Before Jonah could respond, Daphne moved so that she now stood in front of him, effectively shielding him from Atticus’s direct view. While Jonah wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good decision on her part, he was at least grateful not to be left out to solely withstand Atticus’s fury.

"Your Majesty," Daphne said woodenly, "how nice of you to drop by."

Atticus’s frown deepened even further. ’Your Majesty’? Had they always been so distant with each other?

"You should be in bed," he said. If looks could kill, Jonah would’ve already been six feet under and Daphne’s forehead would’ve been seared through with the heat of Atticus’s gaze.

"I wonder why I’m not," Daphne retorted evenly, her voice cool. "Wouldn’t it be nice, Healer Sirona, to have a bed and some food to help me regain my energy while I have wounds to tend to?"

Sharp as ever, Sirona quickly deduced that the queen was no longer talking about herself. Her lips pursed tightly together until it formed a straight line, immediately recalling the poor man that Atticus had chucked into the depths of the dungeons out of anger despite everyone else’s disapproval.

"That would be best, yes," Sirona slowly said. She cast a wary glance at Atticus, who was so overwhelmed by his anger that his face was starting to turn red like a beetroot. "Which is why you should be in bed right now, Your Highness, and not overexerting yourself like that in a way that could hinder your own recovery."

"Yes." Atticus seethed. "Instead of fraternizing with my subordinates, perhaps it is best for you to return to your quarters." Something dark flashed through Atticus’s eyes, murderous and frightful. "Might I remind you that you are still the queen of Vramid against all odds, the mother of this kingdom? It would be unsavory to have rumors of infidelity leak out to the public, wouldn’t you agree?"

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