The Hidden King's Stolen Wife
Chapter 116: Stolen

Chapter 116: Stolen

Rafael stared dumbly back at Soleia, his mind whirling at the implications of Soleia’s words. His gaze turned back to the bed.

"Not your own..." he mumbled in disbelief. He quickly recalled what Soleia told him, and then compared it to Oliver’s testimonial about the event.

"You mean to tell me... your earlier attempt at cyromancy was actually Florian’s? Is that even possible?"

Even as he asked this, he realized how redundant his question was. Soleia was not a liar. She had somehow done the impossible, and the proof was right in front of him in the form of dry notes and bedding.

Rafael wet his lips, suddenly nervous. He knew Soleia could amplify magical abilities, but storing them was completely unheard of!

No wonder she had fallen so ill, so much so that the palace physicians could not understand why. Soleia’s poor health due to Orion’s mistreatment was a convenient scapegoat. If Soleia had been harboring a foreign magical residue inside her, it would have wreaked havoc on her internal systems.

She could have died!

Perhaps it was entirely possible for nullifiers to absorb powers from other users to use at a later date― it wasn’t as though there was any nullifier left that Rafael could ask about this. All of them either died young if they were lucky, or they were imprisoned and worked to death, if not murdered. Maybe they were forced to absorb powers and imploded from within.

Either way, no one was going to volunteer such a piece of world-changing information.

"You catch on fast," Soleia said, smiling self-consciously at the awed look in Ralph’s eyes. She didn’t think she deserved that sort of raptured devotion that people usually gave to holy statues. "Well it’s only a hypothesis, and I haven’t exactly proven it beyond reason doubt, but―"

"But when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever that remains, however improbable, must be the truth," Rafael said firmly.

Goosebumps crawled up his arms. Soleia’s very presence could rewrite the world’s knowledge of magic as he knew it. He fought the urge to leap into the air and scream― if he had her support, winning the crown would be a foregone conclusion.

"Do you want to test it on me?" Rafael offered, trying not to sound too eager. He stretched out his arms. "Absorb as much as you can, and then fling it at me."

Soleia raised up a hand at the wall, trying to repeat her earlier feat. But a sense of exhaustion soon overwhelmed her, and she swayed on her feet. Rafael panicked, hurriedly catching her before she could fall.

"I’m fine... just a bit giddy," Soleia said reassuringly, "I can still try again. Give me a moment."

Rafael cursed himself internally for not thinking more about Soleia’s welfare. All the magic discoveries in the world wouldn’t mean anything if Soleia died in the process. His eyes were full of guilt. "No, Princess, I was tactless. I forgot that you already had a taxing day. You should rest."

"It wasn’t so bad. Maybe there’s a limit to how much magic I can... absorb. My body isn’t strong enough yet," Soleia mused as she pressed a hand over her heart.

Was it just her imagination, or did she feel a sudden cold chill that had nothing to do with her surroundings?

At least she didn’t feel feverish. She could still stand on her own two feet. Soleia considered it a marked improvement over what happened the last time she accidentally unleashed Florian’s powers.

Or did the sickness happen because she unleashed Florian’s powers?

There was only one way to find out.

Sir Ralph was still staring at her with worry. He looked like he was a second away from going on his knees and pleading for forgiveness.

"Sir Ralph, were you serious about letting me test this theory on you?"

Ralph nodded his head so quickly she was reminded of a children’s bobble-head toy. "You can do whatever you want to me. Even if you stab me in the chest, I won’t complain."

"If you were stabbed in the chest, I highly doubt you would have any breath to complain," Soleia retorted.

Sir Ralph responded by stretching his arms out, giving her an unobstructed view of his clothed chest. It was... quite expansive. Broad.

She suddenly remembered how comfortable it was sleeping on it, and her face colored.

"See something you like?" Rafael quirked an eyebrow. "Don’t be shy."

Soleia’s face colored and she cleared her throat, trying to get her thoughts back in order. "I’m not shy. I’m focusing. Now quiet."

"Hit me with your best shot, Princess," Sir Ralph said with a flirty wink. "I can take anything you throw at me."

"Shush, did you not hear me order you to keep quiet? Why are the men I meet all so chatty today?" Soleia scolded him good-naturedly and raised her hand, deciding to aim it at Ralph’s stomach. If something went wrong, a stomachache was easier to treat.

Meanwhile, Rafael’s face curdled at the reminder of his oldest brother. Gah. He had spent his whole life trying not to be like him.

Rafael waited, and waited. Soleia focused, and then focused again. She tried to remember how it felt to use Florian’s powers against him and to channel that feeling.

"Princess? Any time now..."

"I think I feel something... Wait..." Soleia insisted, but her fingers were depressingly free of mist.

"Now it just looks like you’re constipated," Rafael whined on purpose. "Are you sure what you’re feeling is indigestion?"

That completely broke Soleia’s focus, and she broke down laughing. "Shut it. Haven’t you heard? Princesses don’t poop. The latrine is completely for show."

"I know," Sir Ralph said sagely. "Royalty would never be so uncouth and be ruled by baser bodily functions."

They caught each other’s eyes and a new round of laughter started again.

Suddenly, her entire body felt lighter. Soleia could feel the day’s stresses leave her the longer she spent with Ralph, but she couldn’t let herself dwell on the reasons why. Orion was her husband, not Ralph. Perhaps with enough time, she would feel this same ease with Orion now that he was open to the idea of marrying her.

"Princess?" Rafael asked hoarsely. Soleia’s eyes shifted away from him, almost with guilt. "What’s the matter?"

A sharp knock on the door answered his question.

"Open up. I know you’re in there!"

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