Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 74: Recipe for Disaster

Chapter 74: Recipe for Disaster

"If you knew I was tired, why would you still want me to waste my time and come down here?" Atticus asked, giving her a displeased look. "You could just get Jonah to deliver it to me."

"But... but I wanted you to try it personally," Daphne replied meekly, feeling ashamed that she was imposing her desires on Atticus, instead of thinking about his comfort. But perhaps the soup would go a long way in improving his mood. "It’s just that... well... you’ve not been coming down for any of the meals the last couple of days and I wanted to see you."

She gently pushed the bowl a little closer to him.

"I made it specially for you. I hope you like it."

The savory aroma of the caramelized onions was tantalizing, simmered in a beef broth that had been spiced with all sorts of herbs and wine to help deepen its flavor. The layer of melted cheese on top of soft, fluffy bread that had soaked up all of the soup’s flavors created a whole new depth of fragrance that would make anyone salivate.

Daphne had only portioned out a bowl for Atticus, with the rest in the kitchens. There was almost nothing more she wanted to do than to sprint back there and grab a bowl for herself, but she didn’t want to waste any more of Atticus’s time.

Besides, Atticus didn’t seem like he was willing to eat with her.

"You usually don’t want to see me, remember?" Atticus pointedly replied. He pinched the skin between his eyebrows, sighing as he got up from his chair. "I really don’t have time for this. I need to go."

"Please stay," Daphne grabbed his wrist, nearly on the verge of tears. Atticus was so disinterested in her now that it hurt.

"Just try a little. I know you usually have your meals brought up to your office, so it’s not as though you are skipping meals. Soups are easy to eat and you can be off in no time."

Under Daphne’s pleading eyes, Atticus could only let out a heavy sigh. He reluctantly sat back down and half-heartedly picked up the spoon, dipping it into the soup.

Daphne bit her tongue. She wanted to tell him to scoop it properly! Atticus was picking up just the broth and none of the ingredients inside that made the soup as hearty as it was. Without even bothering to blow on it, he placed the scorching liquid in his mouth, swallowed, and then placed the spoon down.

There was no change in his expression. Daphne’s heart fell further.

"Happy now?" he asked.

Daphne could only nod, crestfallen. Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks, but Atticus didn’t seem to notice.

He got up from his chair, the legs of the furniture screeching against the floor loud enough to make her wince. He ran a hand through his hair, irritated.

"I really need to go now. Give my soup to Jonah and let him know if you need anything."

In just a few seconds, Atticus had disappeared from the dining hall, leaving just Daphne in the middle of the otherwise empty room. The bowl of soup was still full, but her heart felt emptier than ever.

***

"I can’t believe you didn’t finish her soup," Jonah said accusingly when he visited Atticus in his office at night, another bowl of soup in his hand.

Daphne had let him finish Atticus’s leftovers with a teary look in her eyes. It made Jonah wonder if she cut too many onions, but it turned out to be, once again, Atticus’s fault.

"What soup?" Atticus asked distractedly as he pored over intelligence reports. "I didn’t drink any soup."

"Soup that your wife made for you. Ring any bells?" Jonah asked. "Thanks for that anyway, I managed to get a really good meal out of it."

"You drank it all?" Atticus raised his head, finally registering Jonah’s words. "Then what’s that in your hand?"

"That’s my bowl of soup," Jonah said firmly. His hand hovered protectively over it as though it was his firstborn. "You can’t have it."

"You drank mine! I was expecting you to give it to me! What else am I supposed to drink? I’m hungry." Atticus whined, kicking his heels like a child.

"You didn’t want to drink yours to begin with, Mr. One Measly Sip!" Jonah retorted. "And Daphne made it specially for you too! Nice going, by the way. Thanks for upsetting her further. If you wanted it so badly you should have drank yours when you had the chance."

Atticus shrugged. "The last few days have been hectic. You know that."

"Too busy to spare some time for your wife?" Jonah raised an eyebrow. "After how clingy you acted before..." Jonah caught the smugness in Atticus’s eyes, and he understood. "Goddamnit Atticus, why are you doing this on purpose? Do you like making life harder for yourself?"

Atticus blinked innocently, but there was a smirk on his face. "No, but I like seeing Daphne try her best to win me over." He sighed lovingly. "It’s fun being on the other end of this for a change. I could get used to this."

"You’re just sore and bitter over her choosing Eugene Attonson over you, her own husband."

"...That too," Atticus said, crossing his arms, a petulant look on his face. "Seriously, how was I a less trustworthy man than him? I would have been less offended if she picked a beggar off the street to vouch for!"

Jonah only shook his head in disapproval. His best friend was a stubborn vindictive bastard. Poor Daphne, for liking someone like him.

"Less about my wife and more about our itinerary," Atticus said, suddenly going back to business. "I’ve already worked out the route we’re going to take, so you simply need to provide the relevant security detail."

He handed Jonah a document for him to look at. Jonah read it and raised an eyebrow.

"You’re really going the long way around," he commented. "So many stops in so many towns. "

"What better way to show her around Vramid? We can explore the neighboring kingdoms as well. It’s been a while since she’s had a proper breather. More importantly, how are Daphne’s magic lessons coming along? Will she set me on fire?"

"When she finds out you’ve been punishing her, possibly, yes," Jonah said dryly. "But then again, you don’t need me to tell you that. After all, haven’t you spent her lessons spying on her from your window?"

Atticus flushed an ugly red. "Shut it."

Jonah continued. "What a lucky coincidence, that the courtyard you had painstakingly prepared for her turned out to be visible from your office window."

"Will wonders never cease," Atticus replied blandly, chucking a paperweight at Jonah. Jonah dodged it easily, nearly cuddling his soup bowl. Atticus narrowed his eyes at the gesture, feeling strangely jealous.

"Now hand me the soup my wife made for me and no one gets hurt."