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Stolen by the Rebel King

As a princess who could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne was kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realized that she was in over her head. She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent. King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North. Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring. No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne. However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be. In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough. ― [Excerpt] “Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.” “Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?” “Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.” “Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers. There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once. Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles. “I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out. “Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.” ― Discord Server: https://discord.gg/7HAMK2bRYU

saltedpepper · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
578 Chs

Cordelia

"Then why don't you teach her a lesson?"

At these words, Veronica and Penelope nearly jumped in surprise. They didn't expect an eavesdropper, let alone one as accomplished as Marchioness Francessa Seibert. Before she got married, she was Earl Rindwald's daughter. It was an open secret that she was one of the prime candidates for Atticus's wife, since her father was among the first people to support his bid for the crown.

She had definitely tried her fair share of buttering Atticus up but the king was as cold as the kingdom's winters. For a woman who had a heart of ice, it was impossible for her to melt down his defenses.

Atticus had refused to take her as a wife, so she married Marquis Seibert instead. It didn't miss their notice that Marquis Seibert wasn't at the ball.

"My lady!" They both bowed hurriedly.

Veronica and Penelope were just small fry when compared to someone like the Marchioness. The lady was someone they looked up to, a name that they were familiar with. Even though every woman strived to become the queen of Vramid, there was just one woman they wouldn't mind losing to― Francessa.

She would've been the perfect queen. There was no other among their age group that was more fitting for the title, and most certainly not the trojan horse of a princess Reaweth had sent in a marriage of alliance.

"Good evening, ladies." Francessa smiled with all the goodliness of a saint. However, if only the women looked closer, they would've noticed that her expression was about as dark as any and everything that was rotten and soiled.

"Good evening," Penelope fairly greeted back.

"My lady, what did you mean by…?" Veronica trailed off, waiting for Francessa to continue.

"You heard me." Francessa's smile maintained, ever beautiful like a porcelain doll despite speaking words that were filled with poison. "She's still an outsider, isn't she? And if it was a marriage of alliance, she might not even have the king's backing."

"His Majesty defended her just now…"

"Only because everyone is watching," Francessa smoothly answered. "If there weren't anyone watching, why would he defend a wife he didn't even want?"

At her words, the other two women looked at each other and smiled.

***

Daphne caught the look of displeasure on Atticus's face when he yet again caught her wandering off on her own. That made it the fourth time that night she had disappeared from his sight, and the fourth time he had caught her.

It wasn't that she was actively trying to escape but it was getting boring standing around faking smiles for people she didn't know that well.

"And where are you trying to run off to this time?" Atticus sternly asked, frowning deeply. He caught her by her elbow, gently but firmly holding her in place, preventing her from running off further.

Daphne matched his expression. "Apologies, Your Majesty," she stressed his title sarcastically, "but corsets and high heels aren't exactly the most comfortable things to wear. Especially when I am famished and exhausted."

"Such a pampered princess." Atticus clicked his tongue. "Let me escort you―"

"Your Majesty!" A distant voice caught both their attention, cutting Atticus's sentence short as they whirled around in the source of the voice.

There, Daphne caught sight of a lanky-looking man dressed in a suit that looked way too big for him. Beside him was a beautiful woman with long pastel blue hair, curled neatly in waves. Her dress was a matching color, slightly darker in tone. The combination created a beguiling contrast when paired with her tanned skin tone.

Daphne wrinkled her nose. She hadn't a clue who those people were but judging by their appearances, they didn't look like they were mere nobility. For one thing, that woman had plenty of jewelry stacked on her delicate arms, the most jarring of them all was the sapphire-studded bangle she wore on her wrist.

Someone of high rank, she assumed. There were very few that could afford jewelry like that, not to mention so many.

"Your Majesty," the man repeated, "my humblest greetings." He bowed low, extravagant, holding a hand to his chest and the other spread out.

Atticus's eyes landed on the blue jewelry decked on both their bodies, quickly guessing their identities.

"Lord Castillo," Atticus nodded. His gaze then turned to the woman. "And you must be Princess Cordelia. Happy to see that you both could join us on this momentous occasion."

Princess Cordelia. Cordelia Aberforth of Nedour, Daphne assumed. It was a coastal kingdom that was far away from both Reaweth and Vramid. While Daphne knew that Vramid and Nedour had trade partnerships, their relations weren't good enough for the crown princess herself to show up at a mere ball all the way across the continent.

"Yes, congratulations to Your Majesty―" Lord Castillo cut himself short, sharply turning his gaze to eye Daphne up and down before continuing, "Your Majesties," he corrected. "As Vramid's biggest trade partner, His Majesty King Marinus thought it was only respectful to attend. Alas, His Majesty's hands are a little tied at the moment and thus he sent the crown princess in his stead."

Princess Cordelia surely did not disappoint. The woman stepped forward a little, a beautiful smile on her face. When she moved, so did her hair. The silky strands slipped off her shoulders, revealing her bosom. Her low-cut dress left little to the imagination.

"Greetings, Your Majesty." She curtsied, purposely dipping lower than what was needed. Daphne could fully well look into the cleavage of her dress without even intending to.

Daphne snorted. She had an inkling on what this princess was here to do and behold, the latter had indeed proved Daphne right.

"Has the kingdom of Nedour fallen so low that their princess has to act like a harlot?" Daphne asked inquisitively, purposely taking a slow long glance at the deep cut of Cordelia's dress, where her sadly unimpressive cleavage was attempting to make an impression.

Cordelia's face purpled to match her dress.

"I'll forgive you for your ignorant words, Princess Daphne." Cordelia shrugged delicately, rising to her full height. "It's not your fault you never left your country's borders until today. The world is vast, and the world of fashion is even more so."

Daphne scoffed.

"Ah, but it's impolite of me to bring out your defects, isn't it?" Cordelia let out a tinkling laugh, mockery in every syllable. "When you have no magical affinity, even a priceless necklace on you is worth nothing."

Daphne clutched at the garnet, not liking the covetous way Cordelia was looking at it. First her husband, now her jewels. This woman was a menace.

"That's not how you activate magic affinity." Cordelia tutted, a wicked glint in her eye. "I'll show you what power is."

And Cordelia flicked her wrists, and the sapphire bangle began to glow.