Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 62: A Man’s Reputation

Chapter 62: A Man’s Reputation

"Well?" Atticus had one eyebrow raised, his arms folded across his chest. Since the three hadn’t fully climbed the stairs yet while Atticus was waiting right at the end of it, he was also on higher ground, enabling him to look down on them quite literally. "I’m waiting."

Jonah and Maisie kept silent; Jonah, because he was still trying to find a way to explain the situation without causing everything to implode, while Maisie was too terrified to speak.

Meanwhile Daphne had no such reservations. She turned her flinty gaze on that imposing figure waiting at the top of the stairs and snorted at his dramatics.

"Nothing that you ought to care about," Daphne said dismissively, even as her fingers curled into fists. How annoying.

Of course Atticus would be here to greet them right as they left the dungeons― to call him a shadow was too complimentary, he was more like a foul stench that refused to go away.

Daphne tried to walk around him, gritting her teeth through the pain just to pick up more speed. Yet, having seen through what was going on in her head, Atticus quickly stepped to the side, blocking Daphne’s path. Whenever she moved, he followed, and the two were caught in an infuriating dance until Daphne could no longer take it.

"Move!" The words burst out, her cheeks flushed scarlet and her fists clenched in anger. "What is wrong with you?"

"What is wrong with me?" Atticus echoed after her in disbelief, his expression quickly matching hers. "That question should be answered by you. Haven’t I been clear enough that you are not to look for Eugene Attonson? Are you actively defying me, my queen?"

"I do not need this false crown nor this false title." Daphne seethed. "What is wrong with a prisoner visiting a fellow prisoner?"

"You’re not permitted to visit him!" Atticus roared, his voice down the stairs and through the dungeons. Every imprisoned criminal in Vramid now knew of their marital spat, and most shuddered at the king’s anger.

But Daphne was unintimidated.

"Fine, then I shall simply pack up and live in the cell next to Lord Attonson then! If you’re so fond of throwing people into the dungeons without trial, I might as well make your job easier and join him. I’ve already committed the grand crime of disobeying you."

A dark cloud loomed over Atticus’s expression, his face gloomier than a violent storm. His stare was deadly, fixated on Daphne despite speaking to Jonah. He said, "Jonah, make sure that my queen stays in her quarters at all times. If she is found anywhere else in this palace ― or out ― I will have your head. Understood?"

Jonah’s eyes widened. "Atticus―"

"Understood?"

One look at the king and Jonah knew that this was no longer up for argument, both as a friend and as a subordinate. Jonah pursed his lips, sighing.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Escort the queen back to her quarters, Jonah."

His icy gaze pierced through the air, devoid of warmth or empathy, as if a frozen storm raged within. The lines etched upon his face spoke of a hardened resolve, a mask of anger tightly clenched, ready to unleash its fury upon any who dared cross his path.

Each furrowed brow and tightened jawline carried a weight of warning, a silent proclamation that echoed in the chilling depths of his piercing eyes. The coldness radiating from him enveloped the room, a frigid aura that sent shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to be in his presence. No one dared to challenge him in fear of having to face the full force of his wrath.

"And make sure she stays put."

***

"Please understand, Your Highness," Jonah said. His eyes filled with remorse, casting a sorrowful gaze that reeked of pity. "There is nothing I can do with his orders made so clear. I’m sorry."

The downturned corners of his lips mirrored the weight of his apology, as if every word left unspoken hung heavy upon his conscience.

"But Jonah―"

"I know that Lord Attonson is a friend of yours, but do understand that his reputation among Vramid’s nobility isn’t for naught nor was it created out of thin air," Jonah continued. "That man may have shown you kindness and respect but the same can’t be said for a lot of other people, the king included. I am sure you must’ve heard of the rumors that surround him?"

"We can’t judge people by the rumors about them," Daphne retorted instantly with a raised eyebrow. If there was someone with nastier rumors surrounding them than Eugene, it was Atticus.

"Yes." Jonah gave a defeated smile. "You’re right. We can’t. So please practice the same judgment with His Majesty. Atticus cares for you much more than you think. You’re not just a prisoner in his eyes."

Daphne immediately turned silent. From the moment she arrived in Vramid, she had judged people without actually meeting them, taking the rumors as truth. First with Atticus, then with Eugene. Daphne had known about their terrible reputations even in the distant lands of Reaweth and she had labeled them as dangerous criminals even before she had properly gotten to know them.

But she had grown and changed, and now she was judging both men by their actions.They have proven themselves in vastly different ways.

Eugene had been nothing but gentlemanly and intelligent, while Atticus...

How disappointing that she was married to the man that actually lived up to his rumors.

"Jonah, I’ve given him many chances. And yet, where has that led me?" Daphne asked bitterly. "Or did you forget that you’re now keeping me imprisoned in my own room to prevent your execution?"

Jonah winced. The queen had a point. Still, as Atticus’s oldest friend, he had to convince her yet another chance.

"Perhaps when the both of you have calmed down, you can have a proper talk with Atticus to iron out your issues. He’s not an unreasonable man," Jonah suggested as he made his way across the room to the door. He opened it, prepared to step out before Daphne could argue. "If you need anything, Your Highness, my men and I will be just outside."

When the door closed shut, all that was left in the room was silence.

Daphne could only scoff.

Oh yes. Atticus was not unreasonable. So it was perfectly reasonable for him to call her a prisoner, insinuate she was unfaithful, and lock her up in her own room? A talk would definitely solve everything. Maybe Atticus might accuse her of some other crime and banish her to the woods.

Maisie watched in trepidation as her queen scowled and glared at the door without saying a word. After a couple of moments had passed with no signs of stopping, she had to interrupt.

"Are you alright, Your Highness? Do you want to take a rest? Or food? I can bring something for you from the kitchens," she asked hesitantly.

Daphne was startled by her words but then she quickly smiled. There was a light dawning in her eyes and while Maisie was happy that her queen no longer looked like she was out for blood, the new look on Daphne’s face sent warning bells ringing in her head.

"Maisie, I’m fine. I was just thinking." She said, as Maisie’s words caused an idea to form in her mind, "What do you think about Eugene?"

Maisie blinked, flustered at the strange question. "Lord Attonson? He’s... alright?"

Her queen liked him as much as her king hated him, and Maisie was afraid of offending either party if she said anything good or bad about him.

"...Maisie, would you be fine if I sent you to the dungeons to look after him?" Daphne asked, wondering if it was too much to ask of her maid.

"By myself? In the dungeons?" Maisie squeaked, shaking her head frantically. "I’m sorry, Your Highness. I wouldn’t dare! The king... the king will..."

"It’ll be fine. I’ll make the arrangements." Daphne promised, grabbing Maisie’s hands pleadingly. "Just do what you just did today. Please? For my sake?"

Maisie’s face was conflicted, but eventually she nodded.

***

The next day, Maisie went down to the dungeons alone, with the same basket of supplies. She jumped and squeaked at every moving shadow, and the disembodied groans from inmates echoed through the corridors, a terrifying accompaniment to the scene.

Eventually she made it to the foot of the stairs.

Then she realized a glaring problem. How was she supposed to even enter the dungeon cell to help him? Previously it was Sir Jonah that released him, but now she was completely alone, with no one waiting for her.

Did the queen expect her to throw the bandages through the bars?

She gingerly made her way to the dungeon cell, only to blink in surprise.

The cell was already open. Eugene Attonson was sitting up against the wall for a change, and he looked a lot better than before. It was startling to see how one day of care could have transformed him drastically. Suddenly, Maisie realized why her queen was so intent on treating him well.

Eugene smiled and waved.

"Hello, I see you’re the sacrificial lamb for today?"

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